Best Friends Don't Kiss(53)

“Ava, it’s your dad.”

I snort. Somehow, he still hasn’t figured out the consequences of the information age and instant caller ID. “I know, Dad. What’s up?”

“Did you get my email?”

“What email?”

“The one I just sent a few minutes ago.”

“Uh…no, sorry. I’ve been busy putting up my Christmas tree. Haven’t checked my inbox,” I respond, multitasking by organizing my ornaments, rearranging them one by one on my coffee table. In true Ava Lucie fashion, they are a tangled mess from last year’s lackluster effort at putting them away.

“What the hell are you putting up a Christmas tree for? You’re going to be in Vermont for Christmas.”

“Because I love Christmas,” I retort. “Pretty sure I learned that from you, big Guy. In fact, given the timing, I have a feeling that’s exactly what your email is all about.”

A deep, reverberating chuckle fills my ears. “You got me. I’ve got our whole itinerary mapped out. It’s a little truncated from last year, though. This wedding is really raining on my holiday parade. You’d think your sister would’ve picked a different damn month to tie the knot.”

Every year, like clockwork, once Thanksgiving is over, Guy Lucie begins to prepare for his favorite holiday of the entire year—Christmas. And I’m not talking just a little bit of preparation. I’m talking Christmas Vacation-style lights on the outside of the house, four fully decorated trees inside the house, along with five days of fun-filled holiday activities that are mandatory for every member of the Lucie family. Even my mom’s dog, Bruce.

“I’m pretty sure Kate wasn’t trying to rain on your parade, Dad. She’s probably just excited to marry the love of her life.”

He huffs out a sigh. “Well, she sure as shit could’ve picked a different day. Hell, I almost went against my Christmas code and started putting my lights up before Thanksgiving.”

“That’s blasphemy,” I tease, but it goes right over his head.

“I know! Goddamn wedding. I know my Avie wouldn’t try to pull something like this.”

“That’s probably why I’m your favorite daughter, right?”

“Shh!” he hushes me, but I can hear the smile in his voice. “You know we can’t let the others find out.”

If it isn’t obvious, I’ve always been a bit of a daddy’s girl.

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. Your favorite daughter.”

He chuckles again. “So, you’ll read the email, right?”

“You got it.”

“And your mom was raving about you bringing some boyfriend with you… What’s that all about?”

“Well…I’ll be bringing Luke,” I answer, and at my words, I look up to find him walking out of my spare bedroom with a guilty grin on his face.

I cover the receiver with my hand. “Why are you snooping?”

“To see if you broke the streak.” His grin grows, consuming his entire handsome face. “Which you did.”

After the night on the subway with Luke, I came back to my apartment buzzing with energy. I couldn’t sleep. And next thing I knew, I found myself in my spare bedroom—otherwise known as my makeshift art studio—painting.

Actually putting my paintbrush to canvas.

The piece isn’t done yet, but it’s certainly a start.

“Avie?” My dad’s voice is in my ear. “You still there?”

“Yeah, Dad, I’m here.”

“Someone there with you?”

“Luke is here,” I answer honestly. “He helped me carry my tree into my apartment.”

“You know, I’ve always thought Luke was a good guy.”

“He is.”

“And now you’re with him? The two of you are a couple?”

If there is one person on the planet I have a hard time lying to, it’s my dad.

“Uh…yeah?” I answer, but he notices the uncertain inflection in my voice.

There’s a brief bout of silence, and I can picture him tapping his chin. “Why do I get the sense there’s a whole lot more to this story?”

“Probably because there is.”

“You ready to tell that story?”

“Uh…” I shake my head and stare down at my feet. “Not quite.”

“But I’ll hear all about when you come home?”

“Sure,” I answer. “I’ll tell you all about it when I come home, but that’s only if you promise to keep it between us.”

“You have my word,” he responds without hesitation. “And Avie?”

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Don’t forget to check the itinerary email.”

I smile. Talking to my dad always makes me feel better. “I won’t, Dad.”

We end the call shortly after that, and I get back to work on making Billy Bob beautiful.

First, lights.

Then, garland.

Then, ornaments.

Luke helps with all of the above and then heads to the kitchen to do something.

I sprinkle a little tinsel and put the star on top, plug in the lights, and stand back to take in the glorious view.