Holly, Jolly, and Oh So Naughty (Festive Flames)
Holly, Jolly, and Oh So Naughty: Chapter 26

How did it come to this?

I have a daughter. Emma. That adorable girl with the bright smile and the sharper knowledge about social media than I’ll ever have, is my daughter.

It’s a lot to take in, so after I leave Lily’s place, I spend the next few hours just driving around the town. There isn’t much to explore, so after circling the town seven or eight times, I drive to the edge of town and park near the ice skating rink.

Trying to make sense of everything Lily told me is almost impossible, along with the news that I am a father.

One thought makes me numb, while the other sends my mind racing at such speeds that I can’t understand one thought before another ten end up on top. With the heater on full blast and my phone on silent, I stare out at the winter wonderland around me and then dig out the bottle of Scotch I’d purchased as a Christmas gift for Margret.

It calls to me. The cool bottle is a comforting weight in my hands, and I trace the swirling patterns on the label with my eyes, repeating Lily’s revelation over and over in my mind.

Emma is mine.

Lily fell pregnant seven years ago after we spent time together.

She claims she tried to reach out but was blocked at every turn. That trips me up because there is nothing my mother would love more than a grandchild. At every party she hosts, she spends hours talking in the ear of anyone who cares to listen about how important the family line is.

And underneath all the confusion as to whether Lily is telling the truth or if my mother had anything to do with this secret being kept from me, there’s one thing that pains me more.

Lily didn’t trust me.

She was happy to play families with me at the ice rink, the party, and the Christmas fair, but when it came to telling me the truth?

She did not trust that I would do right by my daughter.

By her.

And that hurts.

I stare at the bottle until my eyes mist over and then a sob crawls out of my heaving chest.

I cry.

I cry because I miss my father and he would be the man I would turn to for advice on how to parent. Some tears are a mix of joy and sorrow that I have a daughter and I have missed six years with her for reasons unknown. I cry because Lily didn’t trust me, and part of me understands why.

The tears flow thick and fast, and on the side of a deserted road, surrounded by snow on the edge of town, I finally allow myself to feel all the turbulent grief I’ve been running from for the past six months.

I sob until I have no energy left, and then I drive back to the motel with the Scotch unopened in the passenger seat.

Sleep comes quickly that night from sheer exhaustion, and I leave town first thing in the morning.

I have to confront this face-to-face, and my mother is the only person who can give me the answers I need. Lily claims that she had been turned away multiple times, and I struggle to accept that truth because in my heart, I believe that a child would make all the difference.

If I’d known, if she’d reached out to me again, I would have come back in a heartbeat. Part of me always thought she had just moved on.

Surely, my mother wouldn’t turn away her own grandchild?

It’s not an answer I can get from Lily, though, so I fly back to New York City using my family name and an untouched credit card to replace my mother in her penthouse.

When I enter, it’s like walking into a time capsule as my father’s belongings still litter the place.

She has her back to me, staring out over the city next to a gigantic silver Christmas tree covered in red decorations. It’s thrice the size of her and yet she somehow still has more presence than it.

“Mom.”

She spins to face me and a grin of delight spreads across her face when we lock eyes. The delicate glass in her hand is discarded on a nearby table, and she hurries over the expensive fur rug to reach me.

She never lets anyone walk on that rug.

“James!” She clutches at my arms and her long fingernails are like daggers in my biceps. “You came home! Oh, my goodness, this is wonderful! What a fantastic Christmas surprise! Oh, I can’t wait to call your Aunt Eileen and tell her. She will be absolutely ecstatic!”

My patience is thin after such a long flight and no food, so I’m firm as I grab her by the shoulders and force her to take a step back.

“Mom. I came here because I need to ask you something.”

“Of course, darling, anything!”

Glitter clings to her lashes, and her red-painted lips stretch eerily from ear to ear.

“Did you know I had a daughter?”

Her smile falters a fraction, and I instantly see the truth in her eyes. She tries to hide it with a fluttering of lashes and a strange, hollow laugh as she pats my arm.

“What? A daughter? Don’t be silly!”

“Mom!” I tighten my grip a fraction. “This is serious. Did you know? Tell me the truth.”

She laughs again, an awkward sound like wind escaping from a paper bag, then she jerks her shoulders free and clutches at the pendant around her neck. “Don’t grab me like that, James. How dare you.”

My heart begins to race faster and faster as she continues to dodge the question, leaving me with no choice but to raise my voice and press further.

“Lily!” I snap. “The woman whose house you barged into you. You’ve spoken to her before, haven’t you? Tell me the truth, Mom, please.” My voice cracks slightly as a tidal wave of upset creeps through my mind.

Mom doesn’t meet my eyes.

“Alright, fine,” she snaps like she’s scolding a child. “Yes, I know your tart was pregnant.”

My world narrows to a pinpoint and my heart pounds so hard that all I can hear is the blood rushing past my ears.

“But I did what any mother would do and I protected this family, do you hear me?” Mom points at me, and her smile is gone, replaced with the same grim face she wore when telling me my father had passed. “I protected this family. I protected you! Do you have any idea of the scandal if people found out you got a random working-class girl pregnant?”

The word curls past her lips with a note of disgust.

“We would never live it down, especially since she attended a college your father gave speeches to, and you weren’t married!” Mom’s fingers twisted more aggressively over her pendant. “And you never mentioned the silly girl, so I knew she wasn’t pregnant.”

Anger bursts through me like an explosion and I lash out at the nearest thing—a porcelain vase shatters against the wall, sending water, flower stems, and shards scattering all over the floor.

My mother squeals and stumbles backward.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask tightly, forcing each word out with a breath.

“Like I said, James. I was trying to protect you. I had no idea that she kept the child. Though, I suppose when she turned down the money, I should have suspected as much.”

“Wait, what money?” The anger inside me fizzles through all of my muscles before settling heavily in my chest like a bowling ball. Breathing hurts. Swallowing hurts.

Mom moves away from me and back to the tree as the distant sounds of car horns and squealing brakes drift up from the city below.

“I offered her money, a lot of money, actually, if she got an abortion. That harlot refused so instead, I started making sure that she would never see a dime of our money. I was under the impression that she went ahead with the abortion and I thought that was the end of it.” Mom adjusts a bauble on the tree, then she turns back to me with a smile on her face.

“You…” No wonder Lily didn’t trust me. I can’t fathom how scared she must have been to learn she was pregnant, only to end up with my mother trying to pay her to get rid of it.

“Did Dad know?” I ask hoarsely.

“No.”

Suddenly, nothing else I could say to my mother even matters. I give her one last look and then turn around and stride toward the elevator.

“James? James! Where are you going?” She hurries after me, her high heels clacking loudly on the wooden floor. “James!”

“I only came here to hear the truth from you,” I force out through the tension bleeding into my jaw. “And somehow, it’s even worse than anything I ever could have imagined.”

The elevator doors slide open, and I stride inside just as my mother reaches me. Tears sparkle in her eyes, and she clutches the door.

“Son, please. Stop and let’s talk about this.”

“No.” There is nothing more to say. I can’t even stomach looking at her anymore, so I avert my gaze to the floor. “Six years. I missed six years of my daughter’s life because you—” I can’t put the words together. “We are done, do you hear me? I will never speak to you again.”

“James!”

Her wail echoes in the elevator as the doors close, and I’m swiftly sent down to the lobby. As I descend, I wonder how on earth I can make this up to Lily. Now that I know the truth, I have to do everything in my power to make it right.

I have to show her that I am here for her and Emma. I want to be in my daughter’s life.

If she says no, I will show her that I will still always be here as a pillar of support.

Stepping out into the lobby, I’m striding toward the entrance when a familiar voice calls out to me.

“James?”

My shoes skid slightly on the marble floors as I turn. “Bernice?”

“I thought that was you!” My ex-fiancée, looking as glamorous as ever, hurries up to me with a bright, wide smile and a short, lanky man in tow. “I had no idea you were back in the city!”

“I’m not,” I say as she quickly pulls me into a brief hug. As she steps back, I spot that she’s hand in hand with the man. “It was just a fleeting visit.”

“To see your mother?” Sympathy bleeds into her tone. “You’d think I’d personally poured pig blood over her furs, the way she keeps calling my mother.”

“I’m sorry.” I chuckle. “But yeah, I had something I needed to straighten out with her.”

“Are you staying for Christmas? A few of us are going to have Christmas Eve drinks at Lacey’s if you want to join us?” Bernice’s smile is so happy and hopeful, nothing like it was when we were together. She must be really happy now.

“I can’t. I have somewhere I need to be. And I’m sorry, I’m James.” I offer my hand to the smiling, silent man at Bernice’s side, and he grips it firmly.

“Adam.”

“The barista, right?”

His cheeks dust pink as he nods, and Bernice giggles, turning to peck him on the cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Yes, this is the barista I’m sure you’ve heard so much about.”

“Honestly, I don’t pay attention anymore,” I assure her, then I look back at Adam. “It’s nice to meet you, man. You both look really happy.”

“We are.” Adam nods, and he looks at Bernice with such admiration that my heart swells and Lily floods my mind.

“I’m glad. Anyway, I have to go. Merry Christmas!” As I turn to leave, Bernice catches my elbow lightly.

“James, wait. If you’re not staying for Christmas, then where are you going?”

I flash her the strongest smile I can muster. “I’m going home to win my family back.”