Page 9 of We Wish You a Messy Christmas

five

The party was winding down some when Olivia’s dad suggested she head home before him to surprise her mom, adding, “And you can let her know to expect a houseguest.”

She already knew that Dad had invited Malcolm to stay overnight at their house. Although she was pleasantly surprised by her father’s hospitality, she wasn’t sure it was a good idea. But how could she cancel this plan without looking inhospitable to Malcolm? Although it seemed unfair of Dad to make her spring it on Mom, she agreed. Bracing herself, she thanked her host and made the short trek home, silently praying with each step. Maybe Mom would be okay with it. After all, she prided herself on being the perfect hostess . . . well, when it was a guest she’d invited. Never with those messy McEntires, as her mom liked to call them.

“Olivia!” Jane exclaimed as Olivia came quietly into the house. “What on earth are you doing here?” She peered out the front window. “I didn’t see your car. But you probably had to park on the next block thanks to those neighbors.” She scowled out the window. “That red SUV has its wheels in my planting strip.”

Olivia glanced outside. “But it’s only on the bark, not hurting the bushes.”

“Yes, but if it were summer, I’d have annuals growing there.” Jane’s tone was sharper than usual. “I’m hoping and praying they’ll sell their place before next summer. That house is too big for just two people, and they’re both in their sixties now. It’ll be hard to keep it up. Not that they ever did.” Her brow creased as she turned back to Olivia, then broke into a smile. “I’m sorry, honey. Listen to me going on like that.” She gave her daughter a stiff hug. “It’s wonderful to see you. I have some dinner I can warm up. I made it for your dad, but he’s been next door all day, so I finally put it in the fridge.”

“I already ate, but thanks.” Olivia didn’t mention it was the McEntires’ house she’d eaten at. No sense poking a hornet’s nest.

“Well, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?” Jane’s head tilted to one side. “Did you lose your job?”

“No, nothing like that.” Olivia glanced toward the kitchen. “I could use a cup of tea.”

“Of course.” Jane linked her arm in Olivia’s. “I just got a new herbal tea I haven’t even tried.”

As her mom fussed about the immaculate kitchen, Olivia sat at the breakfast bar, planning her words. Finally, the tea was set down, along with some store-bought chocolate mint cookies.

Olivia sipped her tea. “This is good, Mom. I’ll have to get the name before I leave.”

“Yes, of course. How long can you stay?”

“We have to go back tomorrow.”

“We?” Jane’s thin brows arched. “Who’s with you?”

“I, uh, got a ride here with Malcolm McEntire.”

Jane’s eyes grew large. “You mean, Malcolm next door McEntire?”

Olivia explained how they’d crossed paths several months ago. “I couldn’t believe it when he was the vet treating Shannon’s cat.”

“Shannon?”

“Just a work friend. Anyway, there was Malcolm, looking so grown-up and handsome in his vet jacket. The next thing I knew, we were meeting for coffee and laughing about old times.”

“Old times?”

“Oh, you know. Growing up next door. I spent a lot of time at their house. They were so fun and loud . . . it was kind of like belonging to a big family.”

Her mom’s scowl returned as she folded and refolded the pretty floral cocktail napkin. “So, you came home with Malcolm McEntire.”

“Yes, at the last minute he wanted to make an appearance for his mom’s birthday.”

She grimly nodded. “And he’s over there at Cindy’s now? And you’ll ride back to the city with him tomorrow?”

“That’s right.” Olivia bit into a cookie, ignoring the fact it tasted like flavored sawdust in her mouth. She could tell that somehow her mother had suspected something. Perhaps Cindy had given hints. But why this cat and mouse game? What did her mother hope to gain from it?

Jane looked intently at Olivia. “So . . . is this, um, this friendship just that? A friendship? Or is there more going on?”

Olivia washed the cookie bite down with tea then shrugged. “I’m not totally sure, Mom. But I know I like him . . . a lot. And he seems to like me.”

“Olivia. Of all the men on the planet, you would have to get involved with a McEntire. Was this intentional? A way to hurt me?”

“Oh, Mom.” Olivia took in a calming breath. “The McEntires are wonderful people. I was just in their home, and it was filled with love and laughter and good food. I wish you’d gone over there for Cindy’s—”