You Had Me At Christmas: A Holiday Anthology(130)

Trevor was her supportive, amazing boyfriend, and Dean was a very old friend she hadn’t talked to in years who happened to make her feel…silly, somehow.

She pumped the keg and sprayed beer into a blue cup.

There was a sudden pounding on the door, and there was something about that pounding that made Trina’s head come up and look over at Dean.

Trina had a dog when she was a little girl. King was insane about squirrels. Even when King got old and blind and was allowed to sleep in the house, he’d stand up from his spot at the bottom of Trina’s bed and bark with wild, predatory delight, every time there was a scuttle across the roof or past Trina’s window.

Dean had a similar look in his eye right now, that for some reason made her think of his father.

“Is that the cops?” someone asked, and the music was shut down.

“Nope,” Dean said as he made his way toward the front door.

Trina put the cup down and followed.

“What’s up?” Trevor asked.

She didn’t know. Not for sure. But there was that ‘squirrel’ look in Dean’s eyes.

The party had shifted, everyone crowding toward the wall, into the corners, and she was able to follow Dean without a problem into the living room.

Don’t be him, she thought. Don’t be him.

Dean opened his front door. A big man with silver hair and a blue cashmere coat stood there, giving off enough raging disapproval that half the party was blown right into the bathroom.

“Who is that?” Trevor asked, coming up beside her.

Eugene McKenzie.

“Dean’s dad.”

“Looks pissed,” Trevor said, finishing his beer. “You want one?”

Trina shook her head, unable to look away from the train wreck about to happen.

“It’s time to come home,” Eugene said, stepping into the room. He nearly had to duck under the door frame. “Your mother is beside herself.”

“My mother is fine,” Dean said. “And you’re not invited to this party, Dad.”

People were throwing on coats and streaming past Eugene in a single file line, their heads down, eyes averted.

Dean didn’t seem to notice.

“You’ve had your fun, your rebellion, but it’s time to grow up, Dean,” Eugene said, pulling off elegant leather driving gloves, one finger at time. “If we leave now, we’ll be back before the Rosemonts get there. They’ve offered you a job. A good one—a better one than you probably deserve.”

Trina’s hands clenched into fists.

“I don’t give a shit about the Rosemonts, Dad. Or their job. Or you—”

Eugene cuffed Dean across the mouth, a sharp, hard openhanded slap that turned Dean’s face sideways.

Everyone in the party gasped and looked away, embarrassed and freaked out.

Trina stepped forward, compelled to do something.

“I think you should leave, Mr. McKenzie,” she said.

Eugene glanced her way, and did what would have been a comical double-take if the air in the room didn’t have the potential of starting on fire.

“Trina,” he said, utterly neutral. “I’m surprised to see you here. I would have thought you’d have grown out of your friendship with my son.”

Before Trina could say anything, Dean was there, stepping up to his father’s chest. “Go, Dad.”

Eugene didn’t move, and the two of them stared at each other for a long, awful moment.

Finally Dean shoved him with all his might, and Eugene staggered back against the wall. “I said get out,” Dean yelled. “You’re not welcome here, Dad!”

Eugene shoved off the wall and looked like he was about to punch Dean, and she got right in the way.

“Jesus,” she heard Trevor mutter.

“I think you should leave, Mr. McKenzie,” she said, looking up into his eyes, so much like Dean’s. “Before something you both regret happens.”

Eugene chuckled and straightened the lapels of his fancy coat. “You’re a disappointment, son,” he said to Dean over her shoulder. “I don’t know why I expect anything different.”

And then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him sounding like a slam. Trina turned, braced for the worst from her friend.

But Dean was just still, and quiet. Blood beading on his lip.

“Dean?”

“You shouldn’t have gotten in the middle.”

“I should have let you two fight?”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “You could have been hurt.”

“I’m fine. You’re…you’re bleeding.”

His eyes were dilated and he was clearly ramped up. She wanted to get him out of there, into fresh air where he could walk and yell and get rid of this adrenaline. Somebody came up to him, the Mo guy from earlier, and handed him a shot and a plastic cup of beer.

“Parents suck, dude,” he said as he gave Dean the drinks.

Dean sucked back the shot and the beer.

Trevor was there suddenly. “Everything okay?” he asked, looking anxiously between Trina and Dean.

“Same as it ever was, man,” Dean said. He took a deep breath and let it out. “It’s a party. So let’s party.”

Someone cranked the music back up, and now that half the guests had left, there was room to dance and move around. All of which Dean did, with a wild-eyed fervor. He made out with two girls. Disappeared for a while with one of them.