Robyn Neeley - Christmas Dinner

“He couldn’t feel my presence,” she said. “What do I do now? How do I stop this?”

Her grandmother grabbed Amanda’s hand. “All you need to do is open your eyes. We’ll have dinner waiting for when it’s the right time for you to come back. A nice lasagna.” With that, she scooped up the little feline from the floor.

“Goodbye, Amanda,” her grandparents said in unison.

She watched as the three elderly figures disappeared into the white clouds.

“Goodbye,” she said softly. It was comforting to know her deceased grandparents were always watching over her.

She stood over the bed and stared at her lifeless body. What should she do? Open your eyes. The words from Lacy, George, and both her grandmothers echoed in her head.

Praying seemed like the appropriate thing to do. If there was any chance a prayer would be answered, the odds had to be in her favor up here. She hopped onto the bed and began to lie on top of the body. Her body.

She felt a strange sensation as if she were merging with the lifeless figure. “Open your eyes, Amanda,” she chanted over and over, determined to finally do what everyone had advised her to do all along.

She finally understood what they meant.

One Year Later

Today was the day and tonight was the night that Tate Ryan would finally do it. He would get down on one knee and ask the woman he loved to spend the rest of her life with him as his wife.

His hands were slightly trembling as he opened the blue box. He examined its sparkling contents one last time then gently shut the lid. So much had happened this year. This Christmas, he was looking forward to starting a new chapter with the woman he loved.

Amanda stormed into his office and slammed his door. “We need to talk.”

“Hey, Ace, what’s wrong?” He’d thought the days of slammed doors and narrowed eyes were behind them, but glancing at the now crooked clock above his door, apparently they weren’t. “Everything okay?”

Amanda placed both her hands on his desk and leaned forward.

“I gather not.” He put the tiny box back in his pocket.

“I cannot believe you told Melanie she was a better kisser.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Alex said that Brenda told him that Brad said—”

“Stop.” He paused and then laughed. “I know what you’re doing. You want me to admit that you’re a better kisser. You know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Why won’t you just admit it?” She glanced up at the clock and flew out the door. “This conversation is not over.”

“It never is with you,” he called out. He was fast on her heels, fiddling with a deep red tie that matched her festive red suit perfectly. He loved it when she wore red. It accentuated everything he loved about her.

They walked into the studio. “You’re a jerk.” She took her seat and smoothed her hair.

“But you still love me.” He took his seat next to her.

“Do not.”

“Oh, I think you do.”

“You love birds at it again?” asked Ernie, aiming the camera toward them.

“Hey, I have something for you.” Tate got up from his stool and reached deep into his pants’ pocket.

Amanda put her hand up in protest. “Don’t care. Don’t want it.”

“You’ll want this, Ace. Trust me.”

“I don’t want your stupid rock with its silly Xmas Dinner saying. Keep it in your pocket because you are going to need all the luck you can get,” she warned.

Her twinkling green eyes and devilish grin were dead giveaways that she was really enjoying this banter. “You’re on diaper duty from this day forward.”

Tate laughed and leaned over, placing the robin-egg blue box in front of her. They had decided to wait to get married until Amanda fully recovered from her surgery and extensive doctor visits after the car accident last Christmas Eve. They also wanted to concentrate on her pregnancy—an unexpected gift from that night.

Now that mother and baby, Nicholas, were both fine, there was one thing left for him to do—and given their history, the Christmas season was the perfect time to do it. He realized he wasn’t on bended knee, but it somehow seemed right to do it now.

“Open it,” he said.

“Fine.” She slowly opened the box that revealed a sparkling diamond ring. She lifted it out and read the inscription inside. “Eggnog,” she said softly.

He could see tears forming in her eyes and knew it was the perfect word that bound them from their first kiss on that Christmas Eve when they were kids until today.

“Tate, it’s perfect.”

“Who knew that stupid boy would turn out to be your soul mate?”

She laughed. “My grandparents did.” She looked up at the ceiling and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

“Marry me, Ace.” Tate held his breath for the answer.

“And three, two, one.” Ernie signaled.

“Good evening, Wilmington. I’m Tate Ryan.”

Amanda placed the engagement ring on her finger, holding her hand out to admire its perfect fit. “And I’m . . . um . . .” The teleprompter wasn’t jammed, but her answer wasn’t on it either. He knew she had this.

“And I’m going to be Amanda Ryan.” She winked at Tate while showing off her ring to the camera. “Your five o’clock news starts right now. Thanks for joining us.”

“I do. I do.” Wedding planner Kate Ashby quietly repeated her calming mantra. Paralyzed in her window seat, she stared at the illuminated fasten seatbelt sign while her hands gripped the metal buckle strap.

Please turn off. Please turn off. They had to be close to cruising altitude. Soon, she’d be able to request a strong drink to knock her out for the duration of this bumpy flight.

She sat still, trying to ignore the terror pulsating through her. Why hadn’t she bought sleeping pills before boarding a twelve-hour flight from New York City to Hawaii? Now, that would have been the smart thing to do.

Glancing out the tiny passenger window, she clutched her gold “K” necklace. It was completely irrational to be terrified and she realized the odds of her and her fellow passengers landing safely in Honolulu were more than in her favor. Still, this was her first time flying such a long duration. Departing Manhattan this evening in turbulent thunderstorms had shot her nerves. She was grateful that her boss had sprung for a first class ticket for the long flight.

A loud rattle caused her to grab hold to her armrests. “What was that?” She turned to the stranger sitting next to her. He had short blondish brown hair and was wearing a blue blazer. His face had a nice tan. She had failed to realize that her row mate was incredibly handsome. Usually the person sitting next to her was a grandparent or couldn’t speak English. Perhaps he could help her ease her nerves?

“Um … I think it’s the drink cart. Would you like something?” He folded his Wall Street Journal.

Sexy and smart.

“I’ll take a tequila and tonic,” he said to the flight attendant.

And likes his drinks strong. This could be fun.

She ran her hand along the fabric of her hem, praising herself silently for choosing to wear her white sheath dress and matching jacket. It oozed confidence with each expensive thread. At this point in her career, she had no business wearing such a costly outfit. Although she’d be making partner soon and needed to start dressing the part, at least that’s how she rationalized the purchase. It certainly was the perfect outfit for a chance encounter with a handsome businessman.

“Miss, what would you like?” the flight attendant asked.

“Tomato juice, please.” She glanced out the window. “How long until we land?”

The flight attendant cracked a smile. “Just eleven and a half short hours.”

Kate sighed. “Then can you throw some vodka in?”

The flight attendant handed her a small can of tomato juice and a plastic cup filled with ice cubes. Two tiny vodka bottles were lodged inside. “Here you go. I slipped in an extra one for later. Press that button up there if you need more.”

“Thank you.” Kate unscrewed one of the bottles and poured it into her cup, swirling it around with her hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the stranger tuck his newspaper into the seat pocket in front of him. Her eyes darted to his ring finger. No wedding band.

He turned to her, and she noticed his sexy full lips and blue eyes. One word to describe him. Hot. Way cuter than any guy she’d ever dated.

“Don’t fly much?” he asked and smiled. She caught the small dimple in his right cheek.

“All the — ” Her head jolted. Geez. How many turbulent air pockets would they speed through? She grimaced and grabbed the edge of her seat. Push through it Kate. “I fly for work all the time but usually only quick trips up and down the west coast.”

“Flying never bothers me.” He swiveled his glass. “Thanks to my tequila friend, I’ll be out like a light in no time.”

Mr. Sexy was planning on going to sleep? She should have known. Typical man.

She downed the vodka straight and cracked open the tomato juice, pouring its contents into the empty plastic cup. Unscrewing the second vodka bottle, she added the clear liquid and gave it a swirl. Maybe she could keep him up for a few more minutes until the alcohol fully took effect.

“I’m Kate, by the way.”

“Drew.” He sipped his drink.

“Nice to meet you.” Kate brought the cup to her lips. Why was his name so familiar? She hadn’t dated a Drew. Truth be told, she hadn’t dated anyone lately. After a number of failed attempts with men who were either only after one thing or just plain wrong for her, she decided to throw herself into her work. It was easier that way.

The plane shook hard, causing her to spill her drink. The tomato juice seeped through her dress, dampening her skin. “Damn it!”

“Here.” He handed her his cocktail napkin.

“Thank you.” Of course this would happen. She was prone to accidents. Last month, she had spilled an entire glass of wine on a bride’s wedding gown right before she walked down the aisle. She blotted her dress. Two hundred dollars — for more confidence — down the drain. Frustration now competed with fear to take over her body.

She bit down on an ice cube while watching the first class flight attendant secure the beverage cart and take her seat. It was never a good sign when they suspended drink service. This couldn’t be good. She knew it.

She couldn’t help but think about her babies who were waiting for her back home. What if she orphaned them? Who would be their caretaker? Certainly not her mother. Her hands tightened around her seatbelt. “Oh, God. Who’s going to raise Carly and Sydney? This is not happening. Please, God. Please. I promise if we land safely I will never ever miss church again. I’ll visit my parents every Christmas and stop wasting time tweeting at work.”

“Are Carly and Sydney your daughters?”

Kate looked over. She had forgotten about Drew for a second. Was he smirking? Well that’s just terrific. He’s finding her meltdown humorous. Jerk. He’ll wipe that stupid grin off his face when this gigantic metal tube dives nose first into the ground.

“No. They’re my cats,” she wailed. “My fur babies, and they’ll be orphans.” She buried her head in her hands.

She felt something hit her leg and moved her hands. It was Drew’s seat belt buckle.

“I’ll be right back. I need to use the bathroom.” He headed for the back of the plane.

“You’re not supposed to get up until they turn off the sign,” Kate called out. Why couldn’t he use the front lavatory? He probably thought she was crazy. She sighed. Maybe she was. Taking a deep breath, she stared up at the illuminated seat belt sign. Figures the one flight she’s seated next to a gorgeous man, she’s too terrified to flirt.

* * *

Luke Cannon reclined his seat and closed his weary eyes. It had been one whirlwind of a work week. No doubt about it. His reward? Several interrupted hours of much needed sleep. Then again, with was all this swaying he wondered how much shuteye he would actually get.

He often flew for his job working in the family business as his father’s right-hand man, but his identical twin brother arranged this trip half-assed at the last possible minute.