Our First Christmas (35 page)

 

With her fists clenched and her eyes closed tightly, Megan Simmons tried to erase the scene that was before her. But every time she sneaked a peek, the setting was the same.

White lace and satin whispered across the polished floor. Soft music filled the air. Glasses clinked over the sound of soft music. Friends and family smiled as the newly married couple finished the dance that was to be the first in a lifetime.

Megan's insides churned, and she forced a smile she didn't feel despite the tears she felt burning behind her eyelids.

Yes, she felt a jab of guilt. How could she feel this way about her sister? On Natalie's wedding day no less? But there it was: jealousy. Dark and deep and hideous, but burrowed deep in her heart. Megan had to be an awful person. Right? The whole situation was bilious. Yeah, that's right: bilious. She was a nerd, plain and simple. An A student who liked literature, band, debate team, and everything so UNcool she could barely stand herself. No cheerleading. No modeling. No cool-crowd party invitations, but oh, watch out, she could ace a trig quiz with no problems whatsoever.

And look where it had gotten her: staring at her older, gorgeous sister now married to the man of Megan's dreams. It was sick and unfair, and she couldn't stand it a second longer. She made a beeline for the French doors leading outside, where she could get away from the sickening happily-ever-after scene.

Ugh!

She was at the doors, her hand on the lever, when she noticed the same tall, brown-haired boy observing her. What was he looking at? She felt as if he'd been watching her most of the night and wished he'd just dial it back. In the reflection of the doors, she caught another glimpse of Natalie, positively glowing, the train of her gown tucked up, her smile infectious, and Adam . . . Oh, God, Megan's heart twisted painfully. Elegant, almost regal-looking in his black tuxedo, he complemented Natalie perfectly. In pure white and striking ebony, they were the consummate image of a bride and groom.

Megan's stomach churned.

She had to get out of here! Outside, the wintry Connecticut landscape beckoned, snow piling on the stone veranda, an icy contrast to the warm interior decorated with thousands of tiny lights, candles, and poinsettias.

Yanking open the door, she heard her aunt's voice over the music.

“Look at you,” Aunt Janice said.

Oh, yeah, right. Like
any
one would notice her. Well, except for the boy she hadn't recognized. He was still watching her and trying not to be too obvious. She wondered what his problem was.

Aunt Janice, always a little out of step, said, “You look fabulous.”

“If you say so.”

“I just did.” She lifted a knowing eyebrow and glanced at Megan's hand, still poised on the door handle. “Going somewhere?”

“Not really,” Megan lied.

“Hmm.” Aunt Janice wasn't buying it. “It was a perfect wedding, don't you think?”

“Perfect.” Would it be anything else? Come on, Aunt J.

“And Natalie! A beautiful girl, and she's never looked lovelier.”

Megan couldn't argue that obvious fact. “Yes, she, I mean, they do look happy.” Megan forced the words out, told herself to quit being such a horrid person. After all, she was the damned maid of honor. With a sigh she leaned against the glass panels of the door and stared wistfully at her willowy, dark-haired sister.

Why was it always that way: tall, beautiful Natalie, forever in the limelight, and smart Megan, always in the shadows? It wasn't so bad that Natalie had enjoyed all the fruits of being gorgeous in high school. Megan had survived when year after year Natalie had been a member of the cheerleading squad, or whatever princess or queen was in season. In fact, it hadn't really bothered Megan at the time.

After all, that had been over two years ago, and Megan had only begun high school the year that Natalie had graduated. Those days, Megan had even felt a rising sense of pride in her older sister. Secretly, she'd thought, well, maybe
hoped
was a better word, that some of Megan's popularity would rub off on her.

But then Natalie had graduated, and even though the two girls had still lived at home together, they had grown further apart, or at least it seemed that way to Megan. Of course then there had been Adam. All too clearly Megan recalled the day that she'd met him. She'd been at home studying, of course, when Natalie had come breezing into the house, announcing that she'd met some incredible, hot boy, someone “different” from all the other cool dudes who'd hung out at the house. Megan had hardly looked up from her homework.

Then Adam had appeared. And everything had changed.

At the sight of him Megan had felt her throat tighten and her pulse jump.

Tall and broad-shouldered, he'd had thick, kind of shaggy black hair and deep-set eyes that seemed to look right through her. And his smile was killer! The second that Adam had flashed Megan his faultless grin, she'd realized in horror that she could be falling in love. That had been silly, of course, but the idea had bloomed with each subsequent meeting. Far more mature than any of the other boys Natalie had dated, Adam had been the one with a purpose. Adam had been vocal about his intention of becoming the partner in a prestigious law firm one day.

Now, the music stopped. Megan nearly jumped when she heard Adam call her name.

“Hey, Meg, how about a dance with your new brother-in-law?” He took her hand and gently pulled her toward the dance floor.

Oh. God.

Megan wanted to refuse. But she couldn't. Not in front of all of the guests. Crap! As much as she had dreamed about being in Adam's strong arms, she felt it a grim sort of betrayal of Natalie. Megan gazed furtively around the room, but Natalie was nowhere in sight. The only person who seemed to be paying any attention to her was the mysterious lone boy, the one who was still watching her with unconcealed interest. She wondered what his problem was.

“I'm really not that good of a dancer,” Megan protested, hoping Adam would take the hint and let her beg out of the dance.

“Neither am I.”

“No, you don't understand,” she whispered desperately as she died a thousand deaths. “Really, Adam, this is a bad idea. . . .”
A really bad idea.

“Quit stammering and dance. Ignore them.” He gestured broadly at the guests circling the floor. “Pretend we're alone.”

Inwardly she groaned. But she was stuck. Even though most of the crowd was involved in private conversations, Megan hoped that she could use Adam's remarks as an excuse.

“I know they're watching, and that's just the point! I can't dance in front of them. I'll be too embarrassed! I just can't,” she pled as she tried to step away from him.

“The only thing you
can't
do is leave me stranded in the middle of the dance floor. Besides, you have to dance with me. You're the maid of honor and the sister of the bride. It's tradition. At least in my family.”

“Who needs it? Look, I don't think that my making a fool of myself is expected by anyone.”

“Oh, Meg. Just chill out.” Adam looked down into her eyes, and she felt her heart bound with excitement. She couldn't even find her voice—she was just so stupidly breathless to be this close to him.

“So, come on, smile and act as if you're having a good time.”

The small dance band was playing a slow tune, and Megan felt her stiff body begin to relax as Adam led her easily through the waltz. When she closed her eyes, she could almost feel that it was she, and not Natalie, who was his bride.

For a silly moment, she let her head rest against Adam's chest. She could hear the hollow sound of his regular heartbeat. She smiled to herself. If only this dance could last forever—She heard the click of a camera. Adam suddenly whirled her quickly. Her eyes blinked open, and she caught that same boy silently watching them, a deep furrow creasing his brow.

Who was he?

As if on cue, the music ended. “Thanks for the dance, sis. Maybe I'll catch you later,” Adam said, then with a smile and a wink, added, “Next time, though, try to let the man do the leading.”

Oh, God, she'd blown it again!

“Adam!” Natalie's voice called impatiently. “It's time to cut the cake. And then Mom insists that we have a receiving line over by the arbor.”

“I thought we already did that scene,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, I know. So did I, but Mother insists that we do it again because some of the guests didn't get a chance to meet you earlier. Also, the photographer wants to get some ‘candid' shots.” Natalie's large brown eyes pleaded with him not to argue. “Come on, Meg. Mom wants you there, too.”

“Me?”

Natalie would not be put off. “Let's go! Mom and Dad are waiting over at the trellis.” Natalie was off in a rustle of white satin.

Without further protest, Megan obediently followed Natalie over to the wooden archway covered with holly and mistletoe. She forced a smile and hoped beyond hope that it appeared sincere.

The faces of the people in the line seemed to blend into one: some old, some young, but for the most part all unfamiliar. Meg nodded vacantly as she automatically shook hands with the guests and all the while was caught up in her own misery. She felt as if she were the heroine of some Greek tragedy or romance novel or worse! If only this heart-wrenching night would end! She'd go home, eat a tub of ice cream, and burrow under the covers with a book so that she could forget—

“You haven't heard a word I've said.” A male voice broke into her reverie, and she found herself shaking the strong hand of that same boy who had been staring at her all night. What the hell was his problem?

“What? Geez, I'm sorry,” she said, her forced smile crumbling. She tried to retrieve her hand, but he held it clasped tight in his.

“I said,” he emphasized, “I'm Chris.”

She realized he was staring at her as if she'd met him before.

“I'm Adam's cousin. We moved from Boston last summer.”

Megan had found her practiced smile and pinned it on. “I'm Megan. Meg Simmons, Natalie's sister.”

“I know.” His blue eyes were intent.

“You do?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “I like to know everything I can about all of the good-looking girls.”

It figured. “So that's how you found out that Natalie had a younger sister.” Sarcasm edged her voice. Of course. This Chris guy had checked out Natalie and had found out about Megan as a by-product of the investigation. Wouldn't you know? The same old thing: second fiddle to Nat,
again
.

“I guess I haven't seen you around school,” she ventured, embarrassed that he hadn't released her hand and feeling like a complete dork. She was awful at this small-talk stuff. Thankfully, the push of the guests in the receiving line forced him to let her fingers slip from his. Good! She told herself she didn't like that little warm glow that his touch had evoked and was glad to release his palm before her fingers got all sweaty.

From the corner of her eye, she caught him glancing back at her, and she ducked her head and tried to ignore him.

When the receiving line finally broke up, Megan joined her parents and Natalie's new in-laws. Her father's eyes sparkled when he saw her. “You look almost as beautiful as Natalie does tonight.”

Her father was always quick with a compliment, as if he understood how his younger daughter felt, always being outshined by her older sister.

“Thanks. I guess.”

Her mother cut in, her smile as false as Meg's. She was nervous. Worked up. “Why don't you go back to the house and get started?” she suggested. “I'll be right along, but I might get caught up here, and I'd like things to be ready.”

“Sure,” Megan said, hiding her enthusiasm. Anything to escape. Even if it was because some of the family was returning to the Simmons house for an after-reception get-together.

“Thanks. I owe you, and so does Nat.” Megan's mother let out a heartfelt sigh as her gaze strayed to the bride, who was talking and laughing, her arm linked to Adam's. “You know, you're really going to miss her.”

Something in her mother's gaze made Megan aware that this was a hard day for her, too. Natalie was moving out of the house for good.

“Carol! Mrs. Simmons.” The raspy voice of the effervescent photographer broke into their conversation. “How about a shot of you and the two girls, over by the arch . . . no, better yet, near the staircase? The paned windows and the snow would make a perfect backdrop. We'll try to make it look really natural!” He bustled off to the staircase.

“Doesn't he ever give up?” Megan whispered to her mother.

“He's just trying to do his job.”

“I know, but he follows everybody around with his camera poised, ready to capture just the right picture. Kind of like some kind of creep!”

“What? No. It's not that bad. I'm sure this
must
be just about his last pose. At least I hope so.” She chuckled. “I have to admit that I plaster a smile on my face every time I see him coming in my direction!” Mrs. Simmons laughed, and all of a sudden Megan felt better, just knowing that her mother was as uncomfortable about being on display as she was.

“Oh, there you are.” Natalie sighed as she approached them. “I guess we need some more pictures. A million isn't enough.” She rolled her eyes in the direction of the staircase. “Let's get it over with!”

“The sooner the better,” Megan agreed.