Santa's Last Gift Page 3

  Seb swallowed hard before making himself say that he was going to sort his things. She rose. “I understand. You must be tired. Come say good night, though, okay?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Alone, Seb mechanically hung his clothes in the closet and filled the shelves with what remained. A laugh wafted in through the open door. Curious, he walked down the hall to what had once been the guest bedroom and now was the girls’ room.

  Standing at an angle outside the doorway, Seb had a clear view without being spotted. A pair of twin beds rested on opposite walls, separated by a window. Matty sat between the beds on a half-size pale yellow chair, long legs drawn up comically to nearly his chin, swinging his free arm around with wide gestures as he read, while Chance and Rowen listened raptly from their respective beds. Seb recognized the classic tale of Little Red Riding Hood. Rowen giggled as Matty croaked in a fake grandmother voice and then shrieked when Matty let out the climatic “Better to eat you with, my dear.”

  A lump formed in his throat. Of course his nieces preferred Matty. He was everything Seb could never be—present. Seb thought back to the strained conversation over dinner. At work he was levelheaded, never anxious about speaking to anyone.

  Except, apparently, a pair of little girls.

  Book discarded, Matty thrashed around on the floor pretending to be a dying wolf with a granny popping out of its tummy.

  “Nothing is more important than protecting your family,” Granny Matt was saying. His voice deepened back to its normal baritone. “And you two will always take care of each other, right?”

  Chance nodded vigorously. “That’s my job as big sister.”

  “An’ mine as little sister.”

  “How come you don’t have a brother or sister?” Chance asked.

  “Because my parents didn’t have any more children after me,” Matty answered in a way that made Seb think this question had come up before.

  “Mommy can be your sister. An’ us,” Rowen volunteered.

  Chance corrected, “He’s our uncle.”

  Seb hurried back to his bedroom before he’d be caught eavesdropping. Plopping back down on the bed, he pulled a long white envelope out of his toiletry case and worked it over with his fingers before removing the letter. This day had not gone as planned.

  Premier Planning was an internationally renowned event-planning firm. A few months ago, he’d been recruited for a vice-president position that paid double his current salary. The only catch was that Premier was headquartered in London. The invitation for an interview had been a flattering surprise. The job offer letter had been a shock—and the final motivation to schedule this trip home for the holiday. Because the offer came with a hard deadline. They wanted his commitment by January 2nd. He’d been grateful to have the time to tell his family and get them used to the idea. Once that was done, he’d email back his acceptance.

  He tucked the envelope back in his toiletry case and headed downstairs to his mother and sister.

  Matthew

  IT was a little past nine when Matt had the girls settled. Their Uncle Seb’s arrival made them chatty, asking question after question, some easy, some tough.

  Matt wasn’t surprised that the girls hadn’t yet taken to their barely familiar uncle, and he could see that Baz was taken aback by Matt’s presence in their household. Matt knew it was likely that if he weren’t around, Chance and Rowen would embrace Baz more quickly. After all, they were affectionate children.

  But Matt considered them his family.

  Downstairs, Stephanie and Cheryl were sitting in the living room with wineglasses in hand. Baz sat stiffly in the armchair flanking the sofa. He was pensive as he stared unfocused into the fireplace flames.

  Dropping next to Stephanie, Matt nabbed her wineglass and took a sip. “Get your own,” she snapped. He was taken aback. Why was she on edge? Surely it wasn’t because of her brother?

  “Nah,” he said, his attention diverting to Baz. If body language was anything to go by, Matt had overstayed his welcome. Well, he did need to set up his workshop for tomorrow’s project. “I should head out.”

  “Already?” Cheryl asked.

  He couldn’t fight his own regret. “Yeah. I’m firing up the kiln tomorrow and need to get things ready.”

  “Where do you have your shop set up, Matty?” Baz asked. Hearing his nickname in Baz’s deep voice warmed Matt as surely as the roaring fire.

  “When my parents wanted to move to Florida a few years ago, the housing market wasn’t so hot in this area, so they’re letting me live here as long as I pay the taxes. My dad said either the house or the proceeds from it would go to me eventually anyway, so I might as well take advantage of staying in it since the mortgage is already paid off. I set up a workshop in the basement. Had to make some modifications for safety but it’s a big enough space, since I work on mostly small pieces. If I do anything large, then I have to rent space at a larger facility.”

  “Do you do large pieces?”

  “I’ve had a couple of commissions.”

  Cheryl smiled. “He’s being modest. He had a piece on display in a Park Avenue Malls exhibit a couple of years ago.”

  Stephanie interjected, “That’s in Manhattan. As in where you live.”

  “You’ve been to the city, then?” Baz questioned.

  Matt had never even thought of looking up Baz when he’d gone to New York City. Since Baz was always traveling, even if Matt had remembered, it would have led to nothing.

  “Been a couple times, when they were doing the installation for the Park Avenue exhibit. Mine was on Fifty-Fourth Street.”

  “Yeah?” Baz rubbed imaginary lint off his trousers. “I’d have liked to have seen it.”

  “If I get another opportunity, I’ll be sure to text you,” Matt said before realizing he’d have to get Baz’s phone number first. They stared at each other a moment as if grasping that necessity at the same time.

  The moment was broken when Stephanie jumped up. “I need another glass of wine. Seb, Matt, either of you want one?”

  They shook their heads in unison, and Matt didn’t expect the next words that came out of his mouth. “If you aren’t doing anything tomorrow, I could show you around the workshop.”

  “Oh, yes, you should go. It’s fascinating,” Cheryl said.

  Baz looked startled. Matt didn’t know if he should offer Baz an out when Stephanie returned with her topped off glass and added, “Mom and I will be working and the girls have school. Why sit here alone all day? Take Matt up on his offer.”

  “If you’re sure it’s okay,” Baz said.

  “Of course it is. I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise. I have some pieces I’m working on. Then we could maybe grab lunch. If you want.” He didn’t know if he was overstepping. It’s not like Ma and Stephanie had asked him to babysit the prodigal son. But Baz looked so flipping lost.

  And to be honest with himself, he wanted to re-get-to-know the shy-teenager-turned-confident—and good-looking—man.

  “Okay,” Baz said after a long beat. He looked at his mother and sister. “You know, I am rather tired. I think I’ll head up.”

  Matt stood. “I’m heading out too.” Puzzled at the ongoing weird vibe he was getting from Baz, he put his hand out. “Nice seeing you again.”

  Shaking his hand, Baz nodded. “You too.”

  Cheryl hugged Matt and said she’d see him tomorrow. “I’m making crab cakes.”

  “Oh, my favorite! I’ll be here.”

  From the corner of his eye he saw Baz staring. Stephanie grabbed Matt’s arm. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  Puzzled because they never bothered with ceremony like that since Cheryl’d given Matt his own key, Matt asked, “What’s up?” as soon as they were alone in the small foyer.

  “Ryan,” she answered. Matt braced himself. “He’s asking about taking the girls for Christmas.”

  “What did you say?”

  Her eyes darkened. “I asked if he could wait
till next year, once Chance starts first grade. But he’s got Brittany now and he says they’d really like to have the girls with them this year.” She took a deep breath. “He’s been good about it… and our agreement is to take turns.”

  The thought of not having the kids around for Christmas just about gutted Matt. He knew how much more it must be killing Steph, even if it was Ryan’s turn.

  “Crap.” A few stronger swear words came to mind but old habits….

  “Yeah. I haven’t mentioned it to Mom yet. And the girls…. I think there’s still a chance I can persuade him to wait till next year—with Seb finally coming home, it would suck even more if the girls had to go to Ryan’s.” She stopped and Matt could see tears in her eyes.

  “If there’s anything I can do…. Would it do any good for me to talk to Ryan?”

  Steph squeezed his bicep. “I don’t think so. But if I think of anything you can do, I’ll ask.”

  Nabbing his coat from the hook, Matt had to ask what had been eating at him all night. “Do you think it’s okay for me to be here like I—like usual? I don’t want to confuse the girls regarding their real uncle.”

  “Nonsense. You’re as real as Seb! Where else would you be? There is no Christmas without a Starr.”

  He laughed. “Or a Chesnut.”

  He hugged her tight before heading out. “’Night, Steph,” he called out before she shut the door behind him.

  Chapter Three

  Sebastian

  A NATURAL early riser, Seb was the first one downstairs the next morning. He started a pot of coffee, assuming his mother and sister would be joining him shortly. While his kitchen repertoire was limited, he knew how to handle eggs and decided to surprise them with breakfast. To his delight he found bacon in the freezer and set about frying that first since it would take the longest to get it crispy the way he liked it.

  It only took a few minutes of sizzling before he heard Stephanie’s happy sigh. “Oh my God. Tell me I’m not dreaming.”

  “You’re not dreaming.”

  His sass got him a swat with a dishtowel. “Wise guy. Mom filled the fridge yesterday in anticipation of your visit. Glad she’s not a procrastinator like me. Well, the girls will be delighted. Full breakfasts are a weekend treat.”

  Seb looked toward the kitchen’s entryway. “Are they up?”

  “Mom’s with them.”

  Seb whisked eggs in a bowl while Steph settled on a counter stool and sipped at her coffee. She made a face and then added another spoonful of sugar.

  He laughed. “Still take it at the diabetes-inducing level?”

  “Shut up.” She sipped and looked satisfied. “Besides, it’s what all the cool kids do now. I’ll have you know we finally have Starbucks just like in the big city.”

  That got his attention. “They opened a Starbucks here?”

  Her sneer was all the reply he thought he’d get. But then she added, “We have both a Starbucks and a Dunkin’ Donuts.”

  “The Dunkin’ was here for years.” He sipped his own coffee, cream, two sugars. Smooth as silk. His mother loved good coffee. Back when his dad was alive, it always came from one place. “The Beanie is still open?”

  “Yep. Came close to closing a few times. But that ‘Hipster Haven’ write-up for Fir Falls in The New York Times three years ago gave us this boost. We became a ‘must stop’ along the art and antiquing trail. And the article told everyone to head to the Beanie for the best java in a fifty-mile radius.”

  Seb remembered that article. In fact, he had it saved in an album because it had featured his mom’s shop, Chesnut Collectibles and Ceramics. He blinked because he’d never connected the art his mother sold with Matthew Starr.

  “Steph… why didn’t you tell me you and Matthew were friends?”

  To anyone else, Stephanie’s big blue eyes would look guileless, but Seb knew his sister. “I didn’t?”

  “No, you didn’t. He said he moved back four years ago. That’s a long time to forget to mention it.”

  She busied herself with nabbing a piece of bacon straight off the griddle. The grease crackled as she tossed it onto a paper towel and laid it on the counter. “Is it?” she replied right before snapping the bacon slice in half and inhaling each piece. “Mm. Bro, you have to come home more often. I don’t remember the last time we had bacon in the house. Mom and I are watching our cholesterol after Dad, well, you know… but it’s so good.”

  Before he could get her back on topic, the patter of small feet announced the arrival of the girls.

  Rowen stopped short and bumped into her sister’s back as if she’d forgotten about Seb. Maybe she had, given the novelty of his visit. Chance persevered and approached with purpose. “Eggs and bacon?”

  Seb smiled, hoping that today they’d start warming up to him like Matty promised. “Yep. Do you want some? I’m about to scramble the eggs now. It’ll be a few minutes.”

  Both girls glanced at their mother, who smiled at them. They both nodded and climbed up on the stools to wait. Mom entered behind them. “Oh good, I see you found everything.” She pressed her palms together and looked at Stephanie. “I thought we could splurge since Seb’s visiting.”

  “You don’t have to sell me on bacon.” She laughed and nabbed another slice.

  Her mother frowned. “Use a plate.”

  Ignoring the good-natured scolding, Seb turned his back and started stirring the eggs. A hushed voice said, “Cheese.”

  “Cheese what?” Stephanie prodded.

  “Cheese, please,” Rowen said without looking at Seb.

  “She likes cheddar. On just about everything.” Stephanie rose to get the block of cheese and grater. After making a small mound on a paper plate she handed a pinch to Rowen. “Are you part mouse?”

  Rowen giggled as she ate the small shreds. The remainder of the cheese was dumped onto the eggs, and Seb stirred it in until melted. He lowered the flame and announced with pseudo formality, “Breakfast is served.”

  The meal passed quickly as everyone ate their fill. Mom was leaving first to open up the shop, Chance would be getting on the school bus, and Stephanie would drive Rowen to preschool before heading to join their mother.

  “I have to return the rental car this evening,” Seb said to his sister. “Can you pick me up from the Enterprise Rent-A-Car down on Painted Post Road later?”

  Stephanie blinked distractedly as she finished packing Chance’s lunch. “Sure. Or I’ll send Matt.” Seb was about to object that he’d find some other way to get back when Stephanie directed him to nab a juice box from the refrigerator and the words were lost.

  After the bustle of buttoning coats and securing mittens and getting shy goodbyes, Seb returned to the kitchen to stare at the mound of dishes with a rueful grin; it wasn’t like the catering staff was going to come by later to take care of everything. He loaded the dishwasher, then realized he’d forgotten to ask Stephanie for Matty’s phone number. He knew the address. But it wasn’t like he could just show up. The invite was likely only forced politeness. Why would Matty want anyone hanging around when he was working? It was intrusive, and it wasn’t like he and Matty had remained friends.

  His phone buzzed and he grabbed the dishtowel to dry his hands before retrieving it from his back pocket. Stephanie had texted him Matty’s phone number. Before he could talk himself out of it, he created the contact. A few seconds later, he composed a text message.

  Hi. This is Seb. If you still want to give me a tour of your workspace let me know when I should come.

  He was deriding the note as lame even before the small “delivered” appeared beneath it. Another buzz made him jump and he nearly dropped the phone.

  Yes, absolutely. :) Any time after 10. Same address.

  Seb wanted to be annoyed at the assumption that he remembered the address but the grin on his face superseded that reaction.

  THE large Craftsman-style house had been updated with gray exterior shingling and cream trim since the last time he’d walked u
p the steps over ten years ago. Shoving his hands in his jacket pockets, he fought the tension in his shoulders, muscles tightening as if forced into too small a space. This was such a bad idea. What the hell was he thinking of, coming to visit Matthew Starr? The words of the last man he’d attempted a relationship with played on a loop. Who the hell hurt you, Seb?

  With a familiar creak, the glass-paned double-wide door swung open and Matty stood on the threshold glancing down at Seb. “You made it.”

  Seb blinked. Did Matty think he wouldn’t find his way here? On a deep breath, Seb took the stairs up to the wide front porch. “Um. Yeah. House looks nice.”

  Waving his arm, Matty grinned crookedly. “Thanks. I renovated some after the folks moved out.” He shrugged and ducked his head. “Mostly in the kitchen. C’mon in.”

  Following Matty inside, Seb absorbed the interior changes as he hung his jacket on the coatrack by the front door. It looked like some walls had been knocked down. What had been a closed parlor now opened directly to a new gleaming kitchen. The cabinetry looked the same, warm honey colors and inlaid detailing. But now there was also a large island, bottom painted a cool gray-blue and topped with gray-veined marble that echoed the new exterior color.

  “Whoa,” he gushed. “Did you do all this or your parents?”

  Hand scrubbing the back of his head, Matty ducked again shyly. “Kinda both. I mean, I designed it. Well, with the contractor. And my folks paid for most of it. Since, you know, kitchens always add value.”

  “It’s gorgeous.” He spun to take in the huge space, laughing wryly. “I think you could fit most of my apartment in here.”

  Matty chuckled. “Yeah, well, that’s the advantage of living out here.” He walked to a corner that held a professional quality coffee maker. Pulling out the stainless steel carafe, he asked, “Coffee?”

  Debating, Seb hesitated. He’d had two cups already that morning. Matty took a gulp from a large mug before sighing like he’d inhaled a breath of heaven.

  “Still your drug of choice?” Seb remembered Matty’s copious intake from years ago.