Merry Ex-Mas

Christmas in Icicle Falls...

Between Yuletide traditions, winter sports and mistletoe hanging everywhere, Christmas is the best time of year in Icicle Falls, Washington. But this year it’s not so merry—for three of its residents, anyway.

Cass Wilkes, owner of the Gingerbread Haus bakery, was looking forward to her daughter, Danielle’s, wedding...until Dani announced that she wants her father, Cass’s ex, to walk her down the aisle. Seriously? And, since every B and B is full, it looks like he, his trophy wife and their yappy little dog will be staying with Cass.

Her friend Charlene Albach arrives at their weekly chick-flick night in shock. She’s just seen the ghost of Christmas past: her ex-husband, Richard, who left her a year ago, running off with the hostess from her restaurant, Zelda’s, to start a new life (and restaurant) in Seattle. Now the hostess is history and he wants to kiss and make up. Hide the mistletoe!

And bring out the hot buttered rum, because the holidays aren’t so easy for Ella O’Brien, either. Ella, who’s newly divorced, is still sharing the house with her ex while they wait for the place to sell, and they are still fighting over all the things they fought over when they were married. The love is gone. Isn’t it?

But Christmas has a way of working its magic. One of these women is about to rediscover love, another is going to remember what’s important in life and the third will find a new dream in the new year. Merry Ex-mas, ladies!

Praise for Sheila Roberts and Her Christmas Novels

“Roberts’ witty and effervescently funny holiday novel will warm hearts. Realistic characters populate the pages of this captivating story, which is a great escape from the holiday hustle and bustle.”

—RT Book Reviews (Top Pick) on On Strike for Christmas

“Hilarious…a fun and festive debut.”

—Library Journal on On Strike for Christmas

“Roberts’ charming holiday-themed contemporary story set in the Seattle area offers hope, comfort, and a second chance for those who believe, and a nudge to change the minds of those who don’t.”

—Booklist on The Snow Globe

“Within minutes of cracking open the book, my mood was lifted…The warm, glowing feeling it gave me lasted for days.”

—First for Women on The Snow Globe

“This lighthearted and charming read will appeal to fans of Kristin Hannah’s magical, light romances and readers who enjoyed Roberts’s previous holiday offerings.”

—Library Journal on The Snow Globe (Starred Review)

“Roberts’s well-intentioned story serves as a light, pleasant reminder about the importance of balancing family, friends, love, and career.”

—Publishers Weekly on The Snow Globe

“Another warm holiday yarn from the author of The Snow Globe.”

—Library Journal on The Nine Lives of Christmas

“Witty characterizations, slapstick mishaps, and plenty of holiday cheer.”

—Publishers Weekly on The Nine Lives of Christmas

“If you love Christmas, cats and happy endings, Sheila Roberts’ The Nine Lives of Christmas is the ticket to great holiday reading pleasure!”

—Literarily Speaking

Merry Ex-Mas

Sheila Roberts

www.mirabooks.co.uk

For my pal Kathy

Acknowledgments

I had so much fun writing this book! Of course, it’s easy to have fun when you work with great people. Huge thanks to my agent, Paige Wheeler, and my editor, Paula Eykelhof. I’m grateful to both of you for your guidance and input. A big thanks to Janet, owner of Blinx on Bainbridge Island, WA, for giving me a glimpse into the busy life of a shop owner, to my friend Susan Sandeno, wedding cake expert, for sharing some of your cake decorating secrets with me, and to Robert Rabe, super chef, for answering my many questions about running a restaurant. A big yeehaw and thank-you to Ed Kerr and all his pals for helping me produce Jake’s song, “Merry Christmas, Mama.” And to all my friends who are mothers-in-law… None of you were the inspiration for the mother-in-law in this book! Finally, thanks as always to the brain trust: Susan Wiggs, Kate Breslin, Anjali Banerjee and Elsa Watson. You all rock and I hope Santa brings each of you a sleigh load of chocolate.

Dear Reader,

I’ve got to say, I love Christmas. Love everything about it—the decorations, the goodies, the presents, the Christmas Eve service, even the crazy busyness. I especially love getting a chance to gather with my family to celebrate. Believe me, my family knows how to celebrate. We are fun, fun, fun!

But I realize that for many of us the holidays can sometimes be more stressful than fun, especially when dealing with difficult family members. And when you start adding former spouses to the mix it can make you want to say more than, “Ho, ho, ho.”

I’m hoping Cass Wilkes, her friends and their exes will give you a laugh and maybe even some hope. I sure enjoyed writing about them, especially Ella and her ex-husband, Jake.

I must confess, Jake stole my heart. He even wound up with his own country music video, “Merry Christmas, Mama,” which I hope you’ll all check out on YouTube. He was kind enough to give me a role in it. Of course, he conveniently neglected to tell me about the rude indignities I’d suffer. Oh, well, that’s show biz. Not content with a music video, he’s got his own webpage, www.songsbyjake.com, where you can read more of his thoughts, see pictures and hear some of his music.

Meanwhile, I hope you’ll enjoy the ride as Cass, Ella, Charley and their friends get ready for a crazy Christmas filled with everything from jingle bells to wedding bells.

You can find me on Facebook and Twitter, and please stop by my website, www.sheilasplace.com.

Sheila

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Excerpt

Recipes

1

Once in a while, if a woman is really lucky, the perfect day she envisioned turns out to be just that. This was going to be one of those days, Cass Wilkes thought as she set the platter of carved turkey on her dining table.

She surveyed her handiwork with a smile. Everything was Martha Stewart–lovely from the china and crystal to the Thanksgiving centerpiece she’d bought at Lupine Floral, and her old Victorian home was filled with the aroma of herbs and spices. The dining room window framed a greeting-card-worthy winter scene—her front lawn with its trees and shrubs draped in frosty white and the snowcapped mountains looming beyond.

The snow had done what all good snow should do; it had stopped in plenty of time for road crews to clear the way for travelers. Unlike Thanksgiving last year, the town of Icicle Falls was humming with visitors looking for a holiday getaway. Great for business, especially when you owned a bakery. This weekend, gingerbread boys and girls would march out the door of Gingerbread Haus in droves and money would march right into Cass’s bank account—a good thing since she suspected she was going to have a wedding to pay for in a year or so.

A whoop of male excitement came from the living room, followed by cheers. The football game on TV was nearing its end and obviously the favored team had scored a touchdown.

“Okay, that’s everything from the kitchen,” said Dot Morrison, Cass’s mentor and former boss, as she placed a serving bowl heaped with stuffing, along with another full of mashed potatoes, on the table. Normally Dot would have been celebrating with her daughter, but Tilda was on patrol, keeping Icicle Falls safe from…who knew? Their town wasn’t exactly a hotbed of crime.

Dot had dressed for the occasion, wearing jeans and a white sweatshirt decorated with a turkey holding a sign that said “Think Outside the Box. Serve Ham.” Dot, who owned the town’s most popular pancake place, Breakfast Haus, had encouraged Cass to think outside the box years ago, even lent her money to start her bakery. Cass owed her Thanksgiving dinners for life.

“Get those clowns in here,” Dot said. “There’s nothing worse than cold food.”

Cass could suggest a few things—taxes, yeast infections, exes.

Oh, no, she wasn’t going to ruin a perfectly good holiday with even a hint of a thought about her ex-husband. That man, that self-centered, undeserving rat who’d tried to lure the kids away this weekend with a trip to Vail, who…

No, no. No thoughts about Mason. It was Thanksgiving, after all, a time to count her blessings.

Three of those blessings were sitting out there in the living room—her kids Danielle, Willie and Amber. Dani’s boyfriend, Mike, was there, too, tucked beside her in an overstuffed easy chair.

Twenty-year-old Dani was Cass’s oldest and her right-hand woman at the bakery. She’d inherited Cass’s passion for creating in the kitchen, and after a year of community college had opted to work full-time at the bakery. Cass had hoped she’d put in at least another year, but she’d had no interest. “I can learn more from you than I can from any college professor,” she’d told Cass. When it came to baking, well, what could Cass say? Dani was right.

Amber, her youngest, sat curled up on one end of the couch, texting. A few months earlier she’d been adding to Cass’s gray-hair collection, hanging out with the kind of kids no mother wants her child to be with or, worse, become. Thank God (and, possibly, Cass’s pal Samantha Sterling) Amber had changed direction and found some new and improved friends.

Willie, Cass’s high school jock, was sprawled on the floor, holding the favored stuffed toy of high school boys everywhere—a football. The only trouble she had with Willie was keeping him full. The boy was a two-legged locust.

Then there was her younger brother, Drew, who’d come over from Seattle. Recently divorced (was this tendency toward divorce something in their genes?), he’d been more than happy to spend the weekend hanging out with her family. He’d never had kids of his own, so she’d shared. He made a great uncle and a better father figure than her ex.

No, no, no. Not giving him so much as a thought today.

Cass stood in the archway like a lady butler and announced, “Dinner, guys.”

Of course, no one was listening. Another touchdown happened in TV Land. “Yeah!” whooped Mike.

“My team sucks,” Willie muttered, giving his football an irritable bounce.

“My dinner’s going to suck if you don’t get out here and eat it now,” Cass warned.

“The game’s pretty much over, anyway,” Mike said, demonstrating good boyfriend etiquette. He stood, pulling Dani up with him. He was a big boy, a former football star and her son’s new hero. Mike was currently employed at the local hardware store, which, as far as Cass was concerned, was ideal. Once he popped the question, he and Dani would get married and live in Icicle Falls, near family and friends, a win-win for everyone.

“You’re right,” Drew agreed. He shut off the TV and led the parade to the dining room table.

Cass only had to look at a cookie to gain five pounds. Her brother, lucky dog, was tall and reedy, and could eat anything. He was a better dresser, too, always had been. And better-looking. But he couldn’t cook, and when he came to town he was her best customer. He was also her best friend, and she was glad he’d come here for the holiday.

The only ones missing as everyone settled around the table were Cass’s mother and stepfather, who’d become snowbirds and were with his family in Florida. But Mom and Fred planned to come out for Christmas, and if Cass had to choose she’d rather have her mother with them for that holiday.

Drew reached for the turkey and Cass rapped his hand with a serving spoon. “Grace first, you heathen.”

Willie snickered, which earned him the privilege of offering thanks. He barely had “Amen” out of his mouth before he was into the dressing, piling it high on his plate.

Normally she’d remind him that other people might actually want some, too, but not today. Thanksgiving was for feasting and she’d made plenty. Besides, she was going to have an extra serving herself.

For a while conversation consisted of comments like “Pass the rolls” and “Where’d the olives end up?” As plates and then stomachs filled, new topics arose: whose fantasy football team was going to win, how well Cass and Dani’s new gingerbread necklaces were selling, Dot’s upcoming bunion surgery.

Then it was time for pie. In spite of how crazy-busy Cass had been with work, she’d managed to bake pumpkin, pecan and her brother’s favorite, wild huckleberry. “This will be enough for me,” he joked, grabbing the whole pie.

With dessert came another tradition, one Cass had started when the kids were small.

“Okay,” she said once everyone had been served, “it’s gratitude time. Who wants to go first?”

Gratitude. Sometimes the challenge to be grateful had been as big as the word. Often she’d been a world-class hypocrite, encouraging her children to look on the bright side while she indulged in resentment.

It seemed like she’d spent most of her married life in that particular mental state. She’d resented Mason’s decision to join the navy when they were engaged. They’d barely set up housekeeping when he shipped out the first time. He’d missed his daughter’s birth; Cass’s childbirth partner had been her mother. Better her mother than his, she’d told herself. That was something to be grateful for. And she’d been grateful when he got out of the navy. Not so much when he went back to school and neglected his family for his studies. Not so much when he carved out a career that seemed to keep him gone more than it allowed him to be home. Mason had been determined to find the path to success but that path had little room for his family. She was the one who’d always been there to soothe every heartbreak, puzzle over every math problem, cheer at every ball game. And what had he done?

Gratitude, remember? Okay, she was grateful she wasn’t with him anymore.

“I’m grateful for something,” Dani said. She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out a diamond ring and slid it on her finger.

“Oh, my gosh, you’re engaged!” cried Amber.

Cass set down her fork and gaped. Of course she’d known this was coming, but she was a little upset that her daughter hadn’t told her before everyone else. “When did this happen?” she asked.

Dani’s brown eyes sparkled with excitement. She looked at Mike and they shared the smile reserved for a couple in possession of newly minted love. “Last night. We wanted to wait and surprise everyone.”

Well, they had.

“Don’t know how surprised anyone is,” Dot said, “but I think you made your mother’s day.”

Of course she had. Why was Cass sitting there like a turkey in a pan? She jumped up and went to hug her daughter and future son-in-law. “This is wonderful. You two are going to be so happy.”

How could they not be? Unlike her mother at that age, Danielle had been wise and thoughtful when selecting a mate. She hadn’t rushed into a relationship with her hormones on fire and her brain dead from smoke inhalation. She’d held out for the right man. They even looked perfect together, Mike with his dark hair and eyes and that big frame, Dani with her lighter coloring and sandy hair and willowy figure. In their wedding garb they’d look fit for the top of a wedding cake.

“This calls for more pie,” Drew said with a grin, and helped himself to another piece.

“I’m going to be a bridesmaid, right?” Amber asked her sister.

“Of course,” Dani said.

“You’d better dig out your Armani,” Cass said to Drew. “Dani’s going to need you to walk her down the aisle.”

Dani’s face lost some of its bride-to-be glow and she bit her lip.

“Hey, I’m cool sitting in the front row with your mom,” Drew said quickly. “I don’t have to be the one.”

Oh, yes, he did. Who else was going to? Oh, no. Surely not…

“Actually, I was hoping Daddy would walk me down the aisle,” Dani said.

The undeserving absent father? The man who’d been M.I.A. for most of Dani’s life? Cass fell back against her chair and stared across the table at her daughter.

Dani’s cheeks bloomed with a guilty flush and she studiously avoided her mother’s gaze.

“Daddy?” Cass echoed. It came out frosted with scorn. Way to be mature and poison your daughter’s happy moment, she scolded herself.

With her sunny disposition and eagerness to please, Danielle was generally easy to get along with, but now her chin jutted out at a pugnacious angle. “I know he’ll want to.”

Oh, he always wanted to be there, but he never had been.

Until lately. Now that their children were practically grown. He and his thirty-two-year-old trophy wife, Babette, seemed to think they could have the kids come over to Seattle anytime he swooped in from his business trips and buy their affection with shopping expeditions and Seahawks tickets.

Obviously it was working, and that made Cass want to break the wishbone she’d been saving into a thousand pieces. This wasn’t right. How to get Dani to see that, though?

She cleared her throat. “You know he travels a lot.”

“I know,” Dani said, “but we want a Christmas wedding and he’ll be here for Christmas.”

“Christmas Day?” Willie made a face.

Dani frowned at him. “What, are you afraid Santa won’t come?” To the others she said, “We thought the weekend before.”

“That’s not much time to plan a wedding,” Dot pointed out. “What’s the rush?”

Now Mike was beaming like a man with a big announcement.

“Because Mike got a job as assistant manager at a hardware store in Spokane,” Dani announced for him, “and when he moves for his new job I want to go with him.”

Everyone at the table got busy offering Mike congratulations.

Except Cass, who was in shock. They’d be moving away. Her daughter would be leaving practically the minute after she got married. The vision of Dani raising her family here in Icicle Falls, of someday taking over the bakery, went up in smoke. It was all Cass could do not to cry. She pushed away the plate with her half-finished pumpkin pie and hoped nobody asked her what she was thankful for.

“Anyway, we just want a small wedding,” Mike said. “Nothing fancy.”

Nothing fancy? Dani had always wanted a big church wedding. What happened to that?

“And I know Daddy can come that weekend,” Dani added.

“You already talked to your father?” Before you even shared the news with me? Hurt welled up in Cass, giving her the worst case of heartburn she’d ever had.

“Just to see if he’s going to be around,” Dani said. “I thought maybe everyone could come up and stay for the week.”

“Here?” Cass squeaked.

“Whoo boy,” Drew said under his breath.

“There’s no room,” Cass said firmly. No room at the inn.

Dot shrugged. “You could probably put them up at Olivia’s.”

Thank you, Dot. Remind me never to invite you over for Thanksgiving dinner again.

“Dani, you know how crazy it gets this time of year,” Cass said. “I’m sure the B and Bs are booked solid.”

“Olivia still has a couple of rooms,” Dani said.

“You talked to her?” She’d told Olivia, too?

“This morning. I just called to ask if she had any left.”

“Well, then, I guess that settles it,” Cass said stiffly.

“You’ll help me plan it, won’t you?” Dani asked her in a small voice.

Cass was hurt and she was mad, but she wasn’t insane. “Of course I will. And I’ll make the cake.”

“Well, duh.” Amber rolled her eyes.

Dani ignored her sister and smiled happily. “Thanks, Mom.”

Cass sighed. She’d even suck it up and be nice at the wedding. It would be wrong to spoil her daughter’s big day with petty jealousy.

It’s not petty, whispered her evil twin. Cass told her to shut up.

“I know it’s a busy time of year,” Dani said.

“’Tis the season,” Dot cracked.

The season to be jolly. That was going to be hard with her ex-husband strutting around town, pretending to be the world’s best dad. It was going to be hard to greet his bimbo trophy wife with good cheer. And she didn’t even want to think about dealing with her ex-mother- and sister-in-law. If Santa thought this was what Cass wanted for Christmas, he needed to retire.

“This is going to be a pain in the butt for you,” Dot said to her later, after the dishes were done and the kids were playing on the Wii.

Cass leaned against the kitchen counter and stared at the contents of her coffee mug—black, just like her mood.

“But you’ll get through it.”

Of course she would. Exes were a part of life. She’d put on her big-girl panties and cope. After all, it was only a couple of days. Anyway, they’d all be staying at Olivia’s place. She’d hardly have to see them.

Cass managed a reluctant smile and raised her mug. “Well, then, here’s to getting through.”

Dot clinked mugs with her. “Merry Ex-mas, kiddo.”

2

It was Black Friday, a big day for retail in Icicle Falls. For Ella O’Brien that made two black days in a row. How different this Thanksgiving had been from the year before.

Not that her mother hadn’t tried to make it special. Mims had hauled Ella over the mountains to Seattle for an overnight in the city, and on turkey day they’d eaten their holiday dinner at a high-priced restaurant. Surrounded by strangers. Well, except for Gregory, Mother’s longtime friend and fellow fashionista, who had a condo on the waterfront.

Ella hadn’t invited the thought that came to her as they were eating, but it had come, anyway, making an unwelcome fourth at the table. This is pathetically different from last Thanksgiving with your in-laws. Correction: former in-laws.

That had been a typical O’Brien celebration, rowdy and exciting, especially for a woman who’d always wanted brothers and sisters. Mims, who had been included, kept a superior distance while grown-ups and children alike had worked up an appetite by running around in the woods playing capture the flag. After dinner her mother-in-law (ex-mother-in-law, darn it) had helped her figure out a tricky knitting pattern.

And later, when it was time for dessert, Mims the fishaterian learned that the slice of mincemeat pie she was enjoying was a hunter’s version with moose meat added to the sweet filling and had to make a dash for the bathroom.

There’d been no bathroom dash this year. And no Jake. That was fine with Ella. Really. Mims was right; she was better off without that skirt-chasing, irresponsible, overgrown child. And her life would be perfect once she didn’t have to see him every day.

But she missed his mother and his sister and brothers. It had been fun to have someone to call Mom.

She’d never called her own mother Mom. Instead, she’d wound up mimicking Mims’s fashion-model friends and calling her Mims. Ella had never gotten the full story on that nickname, beyond that fact that it had something to do with her mother’s fondness for mimosas. Oh, and a tycoon and a yacht. Her mother had never wanted to be Mom, anyway. That was simply too unglam. And Lily Swan brought glamour to everything, including motherhood. So that was how it was growing up and that was normal, and that was what Ella told her friends whenever they asked why she didn’t call her mother Mom.