“I have to say.” Gram walked us through the room, Ana on one arm, me on another. “I am so pleased by the alacrity with which you followed my directive.”
“Alacrity?” I mouthed at Ana.
“Brisk and cheerful readiness,” Gram replied, apparently picking up on my confusion.
“Eagerness,” Ana offered as a synonym.
“Quite so,” Gram agreed.
“So, you’re happy we’re eager…” I still needed someone to connect the dots.
“Last Christmas I told you that you needed to go and get yourself married. Here we are, a year later, and you’re properly engaged to a lovely young woman who does a tremendous credit to our family.” She paused in her progress across the room, looking first at Ana, then at me. “I could not be more thrilled.”
“You are so kind.” Ana beamed at her.
“You know I always try to follow rules.” I couldn’t help teasing Gram. I’d reformed some of my ways, but not all.
“Pish posh.” Gram dismissed my assertion without any real annoyance. “So, that’s two of you tucked in nicely if we count Declan, as we certainly should.” Her keen eyes roved through the crowd, searching for her next target.
I spotted my older brother Colton standing tall and regal talking to a dreadful looking woman in a black suit. She looked like she was attending a funeral instead of a holiday party.
“You should tell Colton he needs to get married next.” I snickered as I leaned down to Gram, speaking loud enough for Ana to hear.
“Hmm.” She seemed to consider it, and I half believed she had the power to make it happen should she wish. But, as if pressing on the top of a loaf of bread, declaring it not done yet and popping it back into the oven, Gram shook her head. “No, he needs more time. Still coming into his own, you know.”
“Colton’s been in his own since the day he was born,” I insisted. No one was more confident and sure of himself than my pompous older brother, CEO of Kavanaugh Industries.
“No…” Gram paused, surveying the crowd, searching, searching, until… “Ah, yes. Perfect.”
“No,” I disagreed, seeing the poor sibling she’d alighted upon as the next up to get married.
“I’m not following,” Ana admitted.
“She’d deciding which one of us is next to get married,” I explained.
“Of course,” Ana agreed, as if it made perfect sense. Maybe she perceived my Gram as all-powerful as well.
“I’m 84,” Gram declared. “And I still have three grandchildren unattached. It simply will not do.”
“I agree.” Ana nodded.
“Heathcliff,” Gram announced as if by decree. “By this time next year—”
“Gram, I hate to interrupt you—”
“And yet you insist on doing it.”
“I do, because Heath is not going to get married next.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Please, enlighten me as to why not. But first let me remind you that last year you declared that under absolutely no circumstances were you going to get married.”
“Oh, did he?” Ana asked, amused.
“He most certainly did. But this was before you,” Gram assured her. “Back in the days when he refused to wear shirts.”
I cleared my throat. It was true, I did used to take off my shirt a lot. I had to do something for the ladies, like a public service. But now all I had to offer belonged to Ana.
But this was about Heath, and Heath was a different story. “Heath doesn’t shower.” I started with the obvious.
“You’re exaggerating,” Gram dismissed me.
“His beard is the size of Texas.”
“It is formidable.” Even Gram had to admit it. We three stood in a row surveying Heath. Poor Heath. He had no idea.
He lurked in a corner looking like a massive bear that had stumbled out of the wilds and found himself in the midst of black tie event in New York City. It sounded like the rough premise for a Disney movie. Only Heath didn’t look Disney, he looked R-rated like a sniper about to pick off a target. And I bet the ladies would love it if he took off his shirt. The man was massive, built like a goddamned tree. He got bigger every time I saw him. But right now he didn’t seem to be enjoying the attentions of any ladies. He was most definitely giving off a “leave me the fuck alone” vibe, clearly counting the seconds until he could declare he’d fulfilled his duty as grandson and leave the party.
“Beards are in,” Ana insisted, inspiring a slightly jealous look from me. “But he could use a trim,” she conceded.
Finally sensing himself in the crosshairs, Heath looked over. As soon as he saw us, his scowl deepened and he ducked into the crowd for cover. Smart man. But I doubted even mountain man Heath had the cunning to avoid the skills of Gram.
“I think Heath would do well with some feminine company.” Gram decided it right then and there.
“Do you think someone outdoorsy, like him? Or maybe opposites attract?” I could already see Ana going through her mental file of friends, starting to play matchmaker.
“Seriously, the last thing Heath wants is company.” I knew it was a losing battle, but the guy had really been there for me this past winter right when I’d needed him. The least I could do was defend a man’s right to privacy.
“Perhaps an outdoorsy woman would do.” Gram considered the idea, not sounding convinced. “Either way, we have time before your wedding. Almost five months. Plenty of time to see which way the wind blows for our Heath.” Looping her arms through ours once again, she resumed our former journey across the floor.
I shook my head. Poor guy didn’t know what he had coming to him. I didn’t know how it would all happen, but somehow I did believe that Gram would see to it that Heath wouldn’t be attending this party stag next year. It made me laugh. But now that Gram had said it, maybe I had to agree. Heath might need someone to shave him down and give him a reason to shower, at least every other day.
“Now, are you ready?” Gram asked me, sounding serious.
“To sing a few songs?” I looked at her and smiled. “Yup, I think I can handle it.”
“Excellent. They’ve been warned in advance this time. After their session break or set wrap or…” She gestured to indicate some sort of musician’s term.
“Sure, no problem. I’ll go on when they’re ready.”
“I’m so looking forward to hearing you sing.” She gave us each a hug and went off to welcome more guests.
“She’s got it all worked out for your brother, huh?” Ana looked up at me, a twinkle in her eye. I stepped closer, wrapping my arms around her waist. I couldn’t resist. She looked too tempting. I dipped my lips down to hers and gave her a kiss. No cameras here like last year, I could linger as I wished.
Until I heard a not-so-subtle throat clearing. And if I had to make a guess…I turned and, yes, it was my older brother Colton.
“Hey, man,” I greeted him with the usual warmth I felt when it came to him. Which was to say, not so much.
“Colton!” Ana declared, giving him a big hug. He looked surprised, but pleased. Big jerk, of course he was, with Ana’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. The minute she was done, I pulled her to my side again. “Good to see you,” she continued.
“Ana.” What, was that a smile from the Baron of Warwick? Should I alert the appropriate authorities?
“How you been?” I asked him.
“Not as good as you,” he retorted, giving me what might have been a conciliatory nod. “You’ve had a great year.”
“Ah, thanks?” It came out as a question. Because never before had praise come forth from the man who disdained me and everything I did.
“Good album, by the way.”
“You’ve listened to my album?”
“I have,” he agreed. “And I like it.”
I had nothing to say to that. This was turning out to be the strangest holiday party I’d ever attended.
“You think you’ll record again with your
old band, or is this your new direction?”