Home for the Holidays Read online

  She couldn’t let him walk away without saying something. Maybe because Christmas was getting closer and he was taking her babies away from her for three weeks. Maybe because he used her every chance he got, and she let him. Maybe because she was tired of putting out fires, so she’d finally let one consume her.

  “Yeah?” He turned back to her with a glance at his watch.

  Dahlia simply studied him for a minute. While the years had taken a toll on her, he’d hardly changed at all. They’d met their junior year in college. In the business school. He was good-looking with that thick black hair, perceptive dark eyes, and a slight dimple in his right cheek, but it was his charisma that had drawn her in. She hadn’t planned on seriously dating anyone, and she hadn’t planned on getting married right after they graduated, but Jeff had swept her up with his energy and optimism and enthusiasm. That’s what he did. He made people get carried away. But he didn’t sweep her up in his charm now. She didn’t love him anymore. Maybe she’d never really loved him as much as she’d loved the idea of him, the idea of who they could be together. But she’d still given up everything for him, for their family. And she couldn’t keep doing that for the rest of her life. Not when they were no longer a family.

  “The kids can stay here. And I’ll bake cookies with them.” She steered her gaze to the snowflake music box, which had gone silent. “But you’ll have to pick them up on Sunday.”

  “Ohhhh…” He drew out the word with concern. “I’m afraid Jade and I have plans Sunday. It would work better for us to pick them up Monday night since we’re heading to the airport early Tuesday morning.”

  Why wasn’t she surprised? This whole cookie-baking situation was really just a way for him to find free childcare. “Well that won’t work for me.” Her heart thumped harder, pushing heat through her veins. “You come pick them up on Sunday. Because I’m leaving town.” She wasn’t going to do it anymore. She wasn’t going to let him take advantage of her love for her children like this. He’d wanted this divorce and now he had to learn to do things for the kids on his own.

  “Leaving?” His smile tightened into confusion. Ah, yes. Because what life did she have outside of her kids? None. But that had to change.

  “Where are you going?” he demanded.

  “I’m going to spend Christmas with my aunt Sassy in Colorado. Not that it’s any of your business. In case you’ve forgotten, we’re not married anymore.” And it was past time to stop acting like they were.

  Chapter Three

  Rose

  Rose’s nerves kicked in the second Gregory pulled up in front of the high-end bridal boutique with its intimidating stone façade and sleek glass windows. “Keep driving,” she told him, only half joking. “We could drive all the way to Tybee Island and spend the afternoon in bed.”

  Her loving fiancé glanced at his watch. “Wish I could, but I have a meeting on the other side of town in twenty minutes.”

  When they’d first started dating, he would’ve gladly canceled a meeting to steal some time away with her. In those days, they were constantly sneaking out to his parents’ beach house on Tybee Island, but these days…well, between all of his meetings and the constant wedding plans, she couldn’t remember the last time they’d been spontaneous.

  “It’ll be fine.” Gregory leaned over and brushed a quick kiss across her cheek. “Go pick out your dress. I can’t wait to see it.”

  “I’m just not sure I want to go with anything fancy.” She eyed the storefront that Wedding Bliss had labeled the only place to purchase a dress in all of Savannah. “I was hoping I could make my own dress.” She’d even sketched out a few different designs and had gone to look at potential fabrics. But when she’d shown them to Gregory’s mother, the woman had simply laughed and told her she couldn’t possibly make one that would fit such a grand occasion.

  “You don’t have time to make the dress,” Gregory said, sounding an awful lot like his mother. He sat up straighter, staring at something down the block. “Oh, good. Sydney is here.” Relief loosened his frown into a relieved smile. “You two have fun. I’ll see you later tonight.”

  “Right. See you tonight.” At nine o’clock when he finally got home from work. Rose pushed out of the car and had barely gotten the door shut before Gregory peeled away from the curb.

  “Sheesh. Did he rob a bank or something?” Syd asked, watching the Mercedes take a hard right.

  “He has a meeting.” A meeting that was more important than spending the afternoon in bed with her apparently, but she didn’t want to talk about that. Instead she faced the massive glass door in front of them. “We’d better get in there.” They were only five minutes early, which, in Evaline Cunningham’s world, meant they were ten minutes late.

  Sure enough, the second Rose and Syd walked in, both Evaline and Rose’s own mother Lillian ambushed them. “Good, you’re finally here. We found you the perfect dress.”

  A horrified gasp hurtled up from the very center of Rose’s chest, but she caught it in her throat and gave her mother and Evaline a practiced smile. “I’m not sure it’s the right style.” That was Southern speak for There is no way in hell you will ever see me wearing that. Especially at her wedding.

  She eyed the atrocity dangling from the padded hanger that Evaline held in front of her face. It looked like an owl had gotten tangled up in a roll of tulle. And the gems and sequins—good golly, Miss Molly. She’d have to hand out sunglasses to the guests.

  Leave it to Gregory’s mother to pick the most ostentatious dress in the entire store. As the matriarch of a family that had virtually become royalty in Savannah, Evaline didn’t bother with subtleties. Normally the woman didn’t bother spending time with common folk either, but she hadn’t had much of a choice when it came to Rose.

  Eight months ago, Rose had been minding her own business—going about her very ordinary, but happy, life, and—BAM. She’d fallen in love. She’d been cleaning the fourth floor of the Cunningham Enterprises high-rise downtown. Vacuuming, actually. Which happened to be one of her least favorite activities, but she’d taken the custodian job to increase her savings so she could keep her fledgling interior design business afloat. That evening, she’d put in some earbuds, and danced her way around a conference room with one of those industrial vacuum cleaners that had a long hose. After one too many twirls, she’d gotten a bit tangled and had nearly toppled over when, suddenly, strong hands had taken hold of her shoulders to steady her.

  She’d turned around and there stood Gregory Cunningham in all of his tall, dark, and handsome glory. His tie had been loosened, and the top four buttons of his starched white shirt were undone, only adding to his charm. You’re a good dancer, he’d said. And you’re handsome and kind, she’d immediately thought. Because she was most definitely not a good dancer, as evidenced by the fact that her legs were still tangled in the vacuum hose.

  Gregory had twirled her the opposite direction to free her and then he’d taken her out for a drink. The drink had turned into dinner and then dinner had turned into breakfast and before she knew it, she and Gregory were spending romantic weekends at his family’s beach house on Tybee Island. Within six months, they were engaged because Gregory said, and she quoted, It’s taken me my whole life to find you and I don’t want to wait anymore. So, they were getting married in only five months. Much to his mother’s staunch disapproval.

  But the wedding would change Evaline’s mind. Rose would show her she could fit in with their friends and their family. She just wouldn’t do it wearing that hideous dress.

  Chin raised, Rose looked into her future mother-in-law’s cutting blue eyes. “I think I should keep looking.” She had already decided there would be no feathers at her wedding. No gems either. It was going to be at Red Gate Farms, for the love of God. She needed something nostalgic and romantic. “Brown feathers simply aren’t right for a late spring wedding.” Or any wedding where the bride didn’t want to be mistaken for an owl.

  Rose’s mother and Evali
ne shared the look. They stood shoulder to shoulder in a desperate unified force as though they’d already decided this was the dress before Rose had even arrived.

  Rose tried to smooth over Evaline’s scowl with a bright smile. “It is a very…interesting dress. I guess I’ve always had my heart set on something else, that’s all.” The statement resonated with a subtle vibration in her heart, strumming unknown chords. It was that feeling again—the one that nudged at her hopes. The wonder of something else. Something more, something different, something…deeper. She loved Gregory—he was her fairy tale come true. The man she’d dreamed about since she was a little girl—but trying to earn his family’s approval had started to make her feel like someone she wasn’t sure she wanted to become.

  “Rosie?” Her mother fluttered a hand in front of her face. “Are you absolutely positive you don’t like the dress, darling?” She glanced at Gregory’s mother with a placating smile. “Because I think it’s absolutely lovely. Evaline has such exquisite taste, you know. And I think it would be very flattering on you with that empire waist.”

  Ah, yes. Her mother had always made a point of helping Rose find a way to dress around her curvy hips. Lillian also never disagreed with Evaline, no matter what. Her mother had spent far too long trying to climb the social ladder to ruin it all with one wrong word to Evaline Cunningham.

  “It would be perfect if you were doing a Game of Thrones theme for the wedding,” Syd commented as she gave the dress a good long look. “It screams tragic medieval princess.”

  The voice of reason. Thank God she’d brought Syd along. With an ally she might actually manage to walk out of here with something she adored rather than something her mother-in-law deemed perfect. As her college roommate, Syd had proven time and again she could keep her wits about her in the most stressful of situations—like that time Rose had accidentally started a small fire in their dorm room with a candle and a dozen cute firefighters had shown up to put out the blaze.

  “Game of Thrones?” Evaline stalked back to a rack and slammed the hanger onto the bar. “I think it’s elegant. Unique.”

  “But we don’t want a barn owl landing on her head in the middle of the ceremony thinking he’s found his true love, now do we? Think of the scandal that would cause.” Syd batted her mascara-free eyelashes innocently at Gregory’s mother. She didn’t care what the matriarch thought of her. Didn’t care what anyone thought of her, actually.

  Rose couldn’t remember the last time she’d left the house without mascara. Or lipstick. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn her hair back in a ponytail. After all, you never knew when someone from the local media would want to snap a picture, her mother liked to remind her. She glanced at Syd, who’d opted to dress in black yoga capris and a rainbow tank top that said “Good Vibes” for this little outing.

  Oh, what she wouldn’t give to spend a day in yoga pants…

  “I think we should all trust Rose’s judgment,” Syd said helpfully. “After all, she is an interior decorator. She has a great sense of style.”

  Uh-oh. Warning bells started to clamor in her chest, bringing an ache just beneath Rose’s breastbone. Sydney wasn’t going to bring up Rose’s idea. Surely not now. Not here…

  “In fact,” her friend went on, encouraging Rose with an excited lift of her eyebrows, “Rose was just telling me the other night how much she’d love to redecorate your family’s beach house.”

  Evaline’s gaze shifted to Rose, casting her in an awkward spotlight.

  She was going to kill Syd for this. Yes, she’d said she wanted to redecorate Evaline’s beach house, but she never would’ve brought it up to the woman herself! Everyone seemed to be waiting for her response. “Um, right. Yes. Sure,” she stammered, searching for words. “Because you said you were interested in having it redecorated at some point and I have ideas.” Okay, she had more than ideas. She had completed a whole design scheme, but she hadn’t had the guts to show it to Evaline yet.

  “You would be a great client for Glamour Girl Design,” Syd prompted when Evaline said nothing.

  “A client?” Gregory’s mother belted out a rare laugh that caught Rose so off guard she nearly toppled over onto the marble floor. “Surely you’re not still talking about continuing your little hobby.” Evaline shared a long look with Rose’s mother.

  “I’m not talking about it.” Rose found it difficult to meet the woman’s eyes. “I am going to keep my business.” The business she’d been working on for well over three years—ever since she’d graduated with her design degree. Glamour Girl Designs may not have taken off yet, but all she needed was one big client…

  “When do you plan to do that?” Evaline marched over and gazed down at her. “There are going to be certain expectations of you in this family. Committees you’ll need to participate in, charity events you’ll need to attend. When are you going to have time to run your own little design business?”

  Gregory kept asking her the same question, so she told Evaline the same thing she always told her fiancé. “I’ll find the time. It can be flexible. I can take on only a few clients as my schedule allows.” She tried her best to hold up her shoulders in the midst of the woman’s stare down.

  “But it won’t be necessary.” Evaline shook her head. “We already have interior decorators for all of our properties. You’ll need to focus on the things that are important to this family.”

  And obviously Rose wasn’t important. Her goals didn’t matter.

  “Evaline is right, Rose,” her mother chimed in. “You’re going to have such a visible position now. So many responsibilities. It’s not a good time to get distracted with a hobby.”

  “It’s not a hobby. It’s a career.” And it was what she’d been doing her whole life—taking average or mundane spaces and giving them vibrancy, personality, beauty…

  “You can give our designers your recommendations,” Evaline said as though that was settled. “I’m sure they’ll take your thoughts into consideration.”

  The dismissive tone drew Rose to her feet. It was one she’d heard too often as the youngest of three sisters. No one ever took her seriously. Her hands balled into fists, but she couldn’t argue with Evaline. Not in front of everyone else.

  “Why don’t we all take five?” Rose asked instead. “I need to freshen up.” Southern speak for I can’t stand the sight of you right now so I’m escaping to the restroom.

  “That’s a fabulous idea.” A saleswoman who had been watching from a distance hurried over to Rose’s mother and Evaline and prodded them toward a spread of small tables near the back of the store. “We have a refreshment area over here. There’s peach iced tea and a platter of fresh fruit and some of the most darling pastries you’ll ever see.”

  “Pastries?” Syd suddenly perked up, but Rose linked their arms together and dragged her in the opposite direction.

  “We’re going to visit the powder room. Be right back.”

  “But I don’t have to pee.” Her friend tried to resist. “And look! They have green macarons back there.”

  “You can have one later,” Rose muttered all but shoving Syd through the bathroom door. The restrooms were every bit as opulent as the boutique itself—everything seemed to have been plated in gold, shimmering under the light of more chandeliers. The calming scent of lavender drifted in the air.

  “Whew.” Rose finally managed to inhale a full breath. She walked to a mirror and checked her lipstick. Amazingly still intact, but that shiny spot on her forehead…wow. She dug around in her purse for her compact. “Things were getting tense in there, huh?”

  “Ohhhh.” Syd hopped up to seat herself on the marble vanity. “I see. This is where I give you a pep talk, right? That’s why we had to sneak away to the bathroom?”

  Rose concentrated on powdering the oil field on her forehead. “A pep talk for what?”

  “You know. About how everything’ll be okay. Things may seem bad now, Rosie,” her friend recited dutifully. “But I’m su
re it’ll all work out. You’ll find someone else.”

  That stood her up straight. “What’d you mean things seem bad?” And… “Find someone else?” She’d only brought Syd in here so they could complain about her mother-in-law for a few minutes, not so they could pick out a whole new future for her.

  “Well, this is the third shopping trip we’ve been on and you can’t find a dress.” Her friend gave a shrug. “Isn’t that a sign or something? Like the universe telling you not to marry Gregory?”

  Rose dropped the compact back into her purse. “It’s not a sign.” It couldn’t be a sign. She and Gregory were compatible in nearly every area. They’d done all of those personality tests. Relationship therapy, too—which he’d pushed back on since they got along fine most of the time, but she’d wanted to make sure. That their relationship was right. That they could communicate. In the end, the therapist said they had the best communication skills she had ever seen in an engaged couple.

  See? Rose didn’t need anyone else to give her a pep talk. She could do it by herself. She hoisted herself up on the flawless counter next to Syd. There was something about sitting there with her legs dangling that made her feel like a little girl again. If Evaline walked in right now, she’d have a conniption. For some reason that made her smile.

  “The perfect dress is out there,” Rose insisted. “I’ll find it. The wedding is still months away.” That would be plenty of time to still have alterations done. “I don’t want to find a dress too early. What if I lose weight?” Or dear God, gain it?

  Syd gave her the assessing look of a best friend. She had these round, gorgeously dark eyes that could be as cunning as Maleficent’s. “Are you sure this is what you want? One. Hundred. Percent. Sure?”

  A wild thumping started in Rose’s heart and she had to look away. “That’s not fair. You’re asking me this at a very inconvenient time.” At a time when her future mother-in-law had just completely discounted her hopes and dreams. Having a few doubts right about now made sense.