A Dye Hard Holiday (Curl Up and Dye Mysteries, #5) Page 5

  “Our parents aren’t the kind of people who do things they don’t want to do,” Josh wisely said. “It might seem like they just decided it on a whim on the trip here, but I know better. This has been brewing since Destiny and Dylan took their first breaths. They were just waiting to spring it on us.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, probably so.”

  “We’re going to need to set some boundaries, I think.”

  “You do?” I asked in surprise. “Like visitation times?”

  “No, Gabe,” Josh said like I was a dunce. “I can see our moms deciding that they want to be the ones to watch the twins while we work. They’re going to tell us we can save the money we pay our nanny and put it toward the kids’ college funds. And while that sounds amazing, it blurs their roles in the kids’ lives. They’re supposed to be grandparents who spoil them rotten, not the person that fights them to eat their peas and take their naps. Jennifer does an amazing job of that.”

  “Man, I bet she’s enjoying her paid break though.”

  “Not really,” Josh said with a smirk. “She texted me five times before noon asking about them. She’s coming by to play with them tomorrow because she misses them so much.”

  “They are the cutest kids in the world.” I tipped my head and thought about the point he raised. “Let’s not borrow trouble, but we should have a response prepared if it’s suggested.”

  “I think we need to keep Jennifer as their nanny, but let the grandparents take them out to do fun stuff when they want to.”

  “Which will be every day,” I told Josh. “I think we’re going to need to set some more specific parameters, Sunshine.”

  “I don’t want to be too tough either, especially since they’re moving here to be with them.”

  “That’s their decision, not ours. We must do what’s best for our family dynamic, and as much as I love our parents, under foot every day isn’t where I want them. So, how do we do this?” I asked. “We don’t want to be dicks and tell them how it’s going to be, but I don’t want them moving here under false pretenses either.”

  “Well, they haven’t sold their homes yet, so let’s put this conversation off until after Thanksgiving. The last thing I want is tension in the air while I’m preparing my feast. It’ll make my turkey dry or something.”

  “I hate dry turkey,” I grumbled.

  “Right, so let’s not ruin the happy vibes with wild assumptions on our part.”

  “Deal,” I agreed. “What else happened today beside learning that Dr. Dickhead and our parents want to move to Blissville?”

  Josh snorted. “I’m such a bad influence on you.” I knew he was referencing the nickname I gave to Trent. “Doesn’t have quite the same ring as the Dr. Dimples tag name that Chaz gave Kyle, but it’s just as accurate.” Josh got quiet for a second then a goofy smile spread slowly across his face. “I think Meredith is pregnant.”

  I sat up straighter and looked at him. “Think or know?”

  “Think,” Josh answered. “She was drinking ginger ale instead of coffee this morning. Meredith never gives up her caffeine.”

  “Maybe she had her limit for the day before she came over,” I suggested.

  “Not Mere.” Josh shook his head. “She drinks a cup of coffee per hour.” Josh knew her far better than I did, so I couldn’t dispute that.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t come right out and ask her,” I observed.

  “It was hard, but I figured she was keeping it to herself for a reason. Maybe she just wants to hold onto it a little longer, or maybe she’s waiting to do something fun and cute. All I know is that I better not be reading about it on Facebook with everyone else. Chaz and I gave her away at her wedding, so we deserve advanced screening of whatever it is she’s planning.”

  I laughed at his hoity expression. “I’m sure Mere and Harley will tell their closest friends before they post it on social media. Who does that, anyway?”

  “Everyone,” Josh responded. “You wouldn’t know that since you don’t have an account.”

  “I think social media is evil,” I told my husband. “People hide behind computers to bully and demean others.”

  “True, but that’s only a small part of it,” Josh explained patiently. “There are also the times that millions of people rally in support of a cause or a person who needs bolstering. It’s a great way to stay in touch with friends and family who’ve moved away or learn about your favorite actor’s favorite restaurant. It’s the most effective advertising tool for the salon. It’s not all bad.”

  “Yeah, I was really thrilled with the hateful Twister messages you got from that homophobic asshat that didn’t think gay men should be allowed to adopt kids after you announced we were expanding our family during one of your segments on Channel Eleven. Getting called a pervert on social media was a lot of fun.”

  Josh threw his head back and roared with laughter.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “It’s called Twitter, Gabe.”

  “Whatever it’s called,” I groused. “It’s dangerous.”

  After that incident, I made Josh swear he would be extremely cautious about the photos he shared of our house or kids. I didn’t want some crazed lunatic threatening the safety of my family. It was too fucking easy for people to obtain things about you that was none of their fucking business. Were those motherfuckers who sold addresses and phone numbers for a few bucks going to step up and protect my family from zealots who thought I should die because I love another man? Fuck no! Keeping my family safe was my number one fucking job, so that meant no pictures of our children would ever be posted on social media or on his show. Whoa! Apparently, I had a lot of fucks to give.

  Josh agreed, of course, because we had more than just ourselves to worry about. In fact, one of the reasons for my chest-thumping started to kick up a fuss in her crib. We sat there listening to the monitor for a minute to see if Destiny would go back to sleep, if not we would snatch her out of there before she woke Dylan up.

  Destiny became more vocal, and I imagined she was starting to kick her legs, making her displeasure at being ignored known. Josh started to stand up, but I put my hand on his wrist when another voice came through the monitor.

  “Hush there, sweet angel,” Bertie said. I could tell that she had picked Destiny up because she had stopped crying. “You’re going to be a diva just like your daddy, aren’t you?”

  Josh smiled proudly. “Damn straight! She’s going to be strong and assertive; a real force to be reckoned with someday.”

  “Your mom can’t hear you through the monitor.”

  “I believe that I was the one who had to convince you of that fact,” Josh told me. It was true; I worried that the sounds of us making love would be blasted through the monitors that Josh strategically placed throughout the house. “Besides, I was warning the universe.”

  I pulled him tighter against my chest and kissed his smart mouth. It didn’t take long for my body to heat up and crave him all over again. “I have a force you can reckon with, Sunshine.”

  Josh rubbed my erection through my sweatpants. “I can see that, Captain Obvious.”

  IT WAS A DAMN good thing that I gave up being a perfectionist—or at least stomped the piss out of those tendencies when they popped up. There was no room for that ridiculousness when preparing a meal to feed over twenty people. I remembered the good ole days where I used my grandmother’s china and real silverware instead of the paper plates and plastic utensils I’ve resorted to using on big occasions. I missed the formality, but not washing the dishes afterward.

  “Is there anything we can do to help you, Joshy?”

  I looked over my shoulder and saw that my mom and Martina looked eager to help but unsure of their reception. I had everything under control because I ran my kitchen like a seasoned chef. I advance-prepped the fuck out of everything I could and choreographed the rest of my cooking so that everything was done at the same time. I was grateful I had insisted on that wall double oven when
we remodeled the house. Gabe said it was overkill because I had a third oven with my stove, but he quickly learned how wrong he was. Two turkeys, one spiral cut ham, and enough side dishes to feed a battalion took careful planning, time, and three ovens. Of course, the suggestion came from a man who wanted to fry one of the turkeys. No, sir. Not for Thanksgiving.

  Even though I didn’t need help, I greatly appreciated their offer. “I could always use your company,” I told them. I suspected they had ulterior motives for their timely visit, but I kept my thoughts to myself and let it play out.

  It wasn’t until Martina started slicing mushrooms for the risotto that she spoke up. Handling Gabe’s nemesis—the only food he hates—probably spurred her to action. “Are you guys okay with us moving to Blissville? Be honest, son.”

  I glanced over at her as I continued to sweat the mixture of celery, carrots, and onion in herbed butter. Martina’s posture was rigid and she looked like she was holding her breath.

  “We’re thrilled that you want to be near us,” I replied. “It’s the best present you could’ve given to our family, Mom.”

  Martina released a shaky breath and gave me a relieved smile. “Yet, I’m sensing a but here.”

  “There’s always a but,” my mom added. “Is there something that concerns you, love?”

  Gabe and I decided not to discuss our concerns with them until after Thanksgiving because the last thing we wanted to do was ruin anyone’s holiday. However, it seemed silly to say that we didn’t have issues one day then turn around and tell the truth a few days later. I decided to ease them into it by utilizing the tact I’d cultivated from dealing with salon clients for almost a decade.

  I took a deep breath and released it. Here goes. “The only concerns we have are that you’ll give up everything to move here and regret it later, or you’ll be upset when we tell you that we intend to keep Jennifer as our nanny.” It was my turn to hold my breath while I waited for their reaction.

  When it came, it wasn’t anything that I expected. The moms burst into laughter, clutching each other like it was the funniest thing they had ever heard.

  “Josh, we have no desire to raise your children for you,” my mom said haughtily.

  “That’s not exactly what I said,” I told her, sounding more than a little irked. “We just didn’t want your feelings to get hurt.”

  “Honey, we’ll find plenty to do,” Martina said. “Heck, Al is already thinking about opening a body shop here. He made more friends in one day here than we made the first year we moved into our new neighborhood in Miami. This is going to be a great move for us.”

  “We can’t stand the idea of missing another Halloween like we did this year. Sure, the kids didn’t go trick-or-treating, but seeing your family dressed as characters from The Wizard of Oz in pictures isn’t enough. Gabriel as the Tin Man and you as the Scarecrow was so cute, and little Dorothy and Cowardly Lion were just too precious for words.” My mom smiled through the tears that formed in her eyes. “We want to spend more time with our sons and grandchildren, but that doesn’t mean we want to be in your face every second of every day. We won’t tell you how to raise your children, but we’ll be on hand if Jennifer gets sick or needs some time off too. I promise you that it will be a wonderful thing for all of us.”

  Everything they said sounded almost too good to be true, but I decided to accept it at face value and deal with problems if, or when, they arose rather than trying to micromanage every little detail and person in my world. I smiled and said, “That sounds perfect, and we’re so excited that you’ll be here for all of Destiny and Dylan’s milestones.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Martina said wistfully. “First day of preschool…”

  “And kindergarten,” my mom added. “Blink and that day will be here.”

  “You know it,” Martina agreed. “Oh, and visits from the tooth fairy.”

  “Next thing you know, they’ll be going to prom and graduating from high school.”

  Tears filled my eyes, because as fun as those sounded, it would happen too soon. I wasn’t ready for them to go to school and lose their teeth. They looked at Gabe and me like we hung the moon and stars, but someday they would look at us and roll their eyes because we were the stupidest people on the planet. And I sure as hell wasn’t ready for the day that some girl or boy broke their hearts.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Josh,” my mom said. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  I blinked and wiped the tears that slid down my face. “Why does time have to go by so fast?”

  Gabe walked into the kitchen just then with both kids in his arms. Hand to the heavens, I must’ve emitted some kind of signal because my man always knew when to swoop in and make things better.

  “Daddy!”

  “Daddy!”

  Gabe took in my wet, swollen eyes and looked suspiciously at the moms. “What happened in here?” he asked suspiciously.

  “It was the onions,” I said, wiping my hands on my apron and taking the babies from him. That would explain the wet eyes, but not the trembling lips I pressed to one forehead then the other.

  “He just realized how fast this year has gone and got a little emotional,” Martina told Gabe.

  “All lies,” I said, trying to sound tough. “It was the onions.”

  “I’ve never seen onions make you cry in the years that I’ve known you,” Gabe said. He smiled wryly as he pulled the twins and me into a hug. “I get it, Sunshine. I want to stop the ride sometimes too.”

  “Or just slow it down a little. I’m not ready for them to lose teeth, go to school, think we’re stupid, or get their hearts broken.” My voice was muffled against his chest, but I could tell he heard every word because he tightened his arms around us like he could protect us from all those bad things.

  “Let’s just enjoy today because it’s all that we have, Sunshine.”

  I nodded after I pulled back. “I’m going to let the moms finish making the stuffing while I get the twins ready for our guests.”

  “Get ready? They’re already dressed,” Gabe said, sounding perplexed.

  “It’s like you don’t even know me sometimes.” I kissed his cheek and headed upstairs to the nursery. I wasn’t sure I would dress the kids up extravagantly for every holiday, but you better believe I would for their first holidays. We had memories to make and hold onto.

  Mama Richmond made Destiny the cutest little turkey day outfit I ever saw. It was a brown onesie that had a bedazzled turkey in crystals on the front. She sewed on an orange and yellow tutu and made brown, orange, yellow, and white striped leggings. We topped the outfit off with a big yellow headband that looked so beautiful against her coal black hair. She blinked her big blue eyes at me and clapped her hands because my daughter was already a fashion guru before the age of one. I knew she’d have our friends and family eating out of the palm of her hand. I was also certain that she knew it too.

  I set her in the crib and turned my attention to her brother who was eating his fist. The kid was like his papa, ready to tear into his food. Dylan’s outfit wasn’t as fancy as Destiny’s but it was equally adorable with a turkey face embroidered on the front of the brown corduroy overalls and feathers on his cute little tushy. His little turtleneck was made of the same soft cotton material as Destiny’s leggings. Dylan’s brown eyes sparkled in mischief as he tried to wrestle away so that I couldn’t redress him. Our boy was a nudist at heart.

  Gabe and I had the cutest damn kids in the entire land, which was proved by the aahs and oohs when we returned downstairs. Gabe grinned from ear to ear when I set them down and they toddled toward him. “There’s Papa’s little gobblers.”

  “Gobble! Gobble!” Sassy squawked.

  “Eat me!” Savage added.

  Gabe’s eyes rounded innocently. “I’m trying, Sunshine. I think it will be easier to apologize for our kids’ foul language than it will be to change Savage’s.”

  “Probably.”

  Buddy ran into the living room from the kitc
hen looking guilty as fuck. “What did you do?” I asked him, not that I expected him to answer. He just lowered his head in shame then hid behind the couch.

  I hurried into the kitchen to see the damage, confident it couldn’t be too bad because the meats and side dishes were in the ovens. The only thing left on the counter was… “Oh no.” I covered my mouth with my hand.

  “What?” Gabe said, rushing into the room. “Did he get a turkey?” He skidded to a halt when he saw the carnage on the floor and gasped. “Worse!” He sounded so miserable that I expected to see tears in his eyes. “Please tell me you have a backup pie saved someplace. Don’t fail me, man!”

  I shook my head in disgust as I looked at the overturned pie plate and the sticky mess it made. “Well, of course I made an extra one just for you, but now it’s the only one I have.”

  “My house, my pie,” Gabe said sternly. “They’ll have to eat pumpkin pie or that pumpkin crunch crap you made.”

  “Pumpkin crunch cake, not crap,” I corrected, looking at him in disbelief. “You really want to deprive our guests of apple pie?”

  “Fuck yeah,” Gabe said in a tone a person reserved for the word duh. “Call Deanna; I bet she has one of those frozen ones.”

  “How about I make you another one this weekend?” I countered. His response was a glower that Brenda Leigh Johnson used on the shadiest of suspects. Here’s the thing; I can’t deny Gabe anything. The right thing to do would’ve been for me to put my foot down and use the reserved pie for my guests, but I couldn’t do it. “Fine, but you’re telling everyone it was your dog who ruined their dessert.”

  “I have no problem with that. I have plenty of experience managing hostile crowds.”

  “Well, let’s hope this won’t require riot gear,” I quipped.

  Our guests started filing in not long after the apple pie incident. Destiny and Dylan lit up like little Christmas trees when the older kids showed up. They gave up trying to walk because they were too slow to keep up with the Dorchesters and Adrianna. They dropped to their butts then scrambled after the kids at a fast-paced crawl, squealing and giggling as they went.