Page 13 of Love is Grand

The song had switched to some peppy version of “Feliz Navidad,” and I wondered if this was the mood for the next week. A few women strolled babies through the lobby, and I hoped their rooms weren’t near mine. I really was a Grinch, although a Jewish one.

“Here you go, Mr. Stern. Your room key. The number is written inside the folio. As you requested, the minibar is stocked, and a fruit plate has been sent up.”

“Thank you,” I said as I slid a fifty to the desk attendant. I wasn’t sure if that’s how they did things here, but in New York, we tipped.

“Oh, the bellman can leave my bag in the room,” I told her. “I have to make a quick stop in the hotel first.”

“Of course,” she said, picking up the phone and asking the bell staff to come and retrieve my bag.

A young guy came over in a hurry and took my bag. The desk attendant whispered my room number to him, and he was off. I’d tip him later ... I had an errand to run.

Legos, they had in New York, but the seashell jewelry was a local designer. I knew because I’d called the hotel’s jewelry store and asked about the vendor. Touching the back pocket of my dark jeans, I made sure I had my wallet as I made my way down the hallway. Maybe I was only half a Grinch—I really wanted to get Shell something special for the holidays.

An all-too-eager brunette helped me select a pair of earrings, small hoops with an emerald-encrusted seashell dangling from each one. At my request, she quickly wrapped them, saying what a lucky woman would be on the receiving end of these.

Slipping my card back into my wallet, I hoped I’d be lucky enough to give them to her.

Shell didn’t contact me between visits. I told her she could, and I always texted good-bye and see you soon, but our contact went no further. If I were being honest, this was uncharted territory for me. Usually, I was the one dodging texts and calls.

“Thank you,” I told the brunette, whose name I failed to remember.

Another first for me. Beautiful women used to be my drug of choice. Without asking me, my body now currently only craved one woman.

“Here is fine,” I told Jack. “Can you wait up the road?”

Jack nodded and gave me a two-finger salute.

He knew the drill. My whereabouts were my own business and no one else’s. Luckily for me, I’d learned where Shell lived during my last visit. She hadn’t wanted me to come in, but I’d insisted.

The pink clapboard house sat at the end of a quiet road. It wasn’t much, with only two bedrooms, a living room, and a small kitchen and eating area. I pictured her sitting on the porch, having a glass of wine and relaxing like she deserved to do, but I didn’t think she did that very often. The decor was an eclectic variety of styles, like Shell was a woman of various pursuits and passions.

Even armed with gifts, I knew it was a risk showing up unannounced, but this was how it went with Shell and me. We didn’t talk, I showed up, we spent a few days together, and then we went back to our lives. If I were more of a man, I’d call or text and say I wanted to see her more, take care of her how she deserved, but the fear of rejection was strong with me.

I knocked on the door, hoping I remembered correctly when Shell said she always worked Christmas Eve night and her daughter spent the night with her parents. Like the stalker I was, I knew the restaurant always closed for a shift change between three and five.

“Cal?” Shell answered the door in jean cutoffs, and a white cable-knit sweater falling off her shoulder. She wore no makeup and her hair was in its natural curls.

“Merry Christmas,” I simply said.

“Um, what are you doing here?” She stood in the doorway while I waited on the front porch, a box in each hand, looking and feeling like a stooge.

“I’m spending the holidays with Adam and Rylan.”

“And you decided to just stop by unannounced. My daughter ...” Shell raised a questioning eyebrow at me.

“Is with your parents. You said she always goes there on Christmas Eve to bake.”

Hand on her hip, her head cocked to the side, Shell said, “And you were actually listening?”

“Yeah, I was listening. And before you tell me, I knew you’d be working later tonight, which is why I’m here now.”

We stood there in a standoff, Shell staring at me, and me with no idea what to say. A definite red-letter day for a lawyer, let me tell you.

For a second, I thought I should have gone with Sophia to her family’s house. With her, it was easy. She knew what I drank, where I liked to eat, and how I liked to fuck. Problem was, when it came to lighting a fire in my chest, she did nothing for me, nothing like how I felt with Shell.

This was the moment I confirmed I was twisted. Maybe not as twisted as my sister, who had battled mental illness throughout her too-short lifetime, but I was messed up.

Finally, Shell broke the silence. “I do have to work. Soon. Tonight is one of those nights we cater to tourists who want an island holiday. But do you want to come in?”

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