“Hang on a sec and the seats will heat.” And they did. She sighed, relaxing and turning to him.

“Spill.”

“Ed Chasen is sort of a legend. He’s been in the music scene for sixty years. Few people can play blues guitar like him. He used to run a school and there was this competition. Paddy, with no formal training and no shortage of ego, talked some trash to this dude who was one of Ed’s students. And Paddy kicked his ass. I mean, it was sort of crazy. The thing about Paddy is that he has this devil-may-care thing, but he’s really, really good. A natural musician. He can play all the instruments his brothers play. He can sing. He’s got that damned star-quality thing.”

“Yes, the ladies really like that,” she said dryly, and he laughed.

“Sorry, sweetheart. He’s aware of that stuff and before you, he used it. He was a rogue but women like it as long as the guy is up front about who and what he is. But Paddy won that competition three more times. Ed, well, he got mad. Here’s this kid from a small town with no training, and he’s beating Ed’s best?”

“For Paddy, his music just flows from him. He doesn’t have to think about it. It just is. Oh, and he still uses it, only on me.”

“I really can’t have chosen anyone better for my brother. You’re really smart, you know? People-smart. You get him in ways most people never will.”

She blushed.

“So that started this thing, and Paddy never really thought about it much until the guitar. He wanted that guitar so bad, and he went to Ed and made a case to Ed but Ed told him to fuh—go away. How’d you do it?”

“At first, I tried logic. I came at him head-on, and he blew me off. Because I was a woman he was mannerly enough, but it was clear he had no interest in selling the guitar. So I started calling him a few times a week. Then I sent him Sweet Hollow Ranch CDs. He got mad at me at first. And then I drove down there and showed up at his house.”

“You did what? Christ! I told you not to go down there alone. He could have been insane or a serial killer or something. Paddy is going to kill me.”

“Hush. You didn’t tell me that until after I’d already gone down there. So technically, once you told me not to, I didn’t. But anyway. I showed up, and I followed him around pretty much all day until he finally agreed to listen to one track if I’d leave him alone. So I played him ‘Be There.’ And I said, ‘Don’t you think your guitar would make magic with this man playing it?’”

“You’re ballsy, Nats. Jeez.”

“Pfft. Why do men say that? Balls? If you kick them or bump them or they get cold or too warm, you guys go down for the count. I say I have vagina. Way tougher than balls. Though it does hurt to get kicked there.”

He sputtered and then laughed and laughed. “We need to think of another term, though. Vagina up? No. I’ll think about it and get back to you. So did he agree, then? To sell you the guitar, I mean?”

“No, but he started to consider it then. I called him still. Emailed him. And when he kept picking up the phone, I knew he was thinking of it. What finally did it? I said, ‘Have you ever been in love, Mr. Chasen?’ He said he had and had been married three times.”

“Course, he probably drove ’em all off with his crankiness.”

“One died in childbirth in the forties. Another he married about six weeks after he lost his wife, mainly to care for his newborn son. That fell apart a decade later. And then he met Suzanne. He called her Zany. They were married until she died two years ago. So I told him I loved Paddy and that he wanted that guitar because he loved music, just like Ed did, and that guitar couldn’t go to a better person. Paddy would use it and love it and make music with it. He hung up on me. Three days later he called and agreed to sell it to me.”

Ezra shook his head. “You’re one tough cookie. And for what it’s worth? Paddy will play that guitar all the time. And that you did all that for him is only going to make him love it more.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

SO OF COURSE, the Hurleys did Christmas in the same way they did everything else. In a crowd of noise, hugs, kisses and no small amount of brotherly trash talk.

Vaughan had the girls, who loved all over the puppy they’d picked out a few days before from the animal shelter. Vaughan watched them with a bittersweet smile.

“They’re growing up so fast.”

She wondered about their mother. Paddy had said his ex-wife was a really good mother who stayed nearby so Vaughan could see them and be a regular part of their lives. Mothering like that was sort of miraculous to Natalie.

Mary leaned against Damien, laughing at something her mother had said to Sharon.

“You could totally tell me what my present is now.”

Paddy Hurley was absolutely useless when it came to patience over a surprise or a present.

“We’re going to be opening stuff in like five minutes. I bet you hunted all over the place to find presents when you were a kid.”

“Guilty as charged.” He grinned, without any remorse at all. “You didn’t?”

“I sometimes came up here to my grandparents’ for Christmas. I got lots of presents. Never let it be said that the Claytons didn’t shower me with things.” Things too big or too small, things inappropriate for the weather or just clear evidence of how little they knew her.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stirred that up.”

“Hush.” She kissed him quickly. “It’s fine. It wasn’t like this. Never. But once I got to college, things changed. I always spent Christmases with Tuesday’s family. And 1022 tries to be together before or after the holiday. Delia is Jewish so she and I often hung out on Christmas if I wasn’t visiting anyone’s family. But this? This is pretty fantastic, and I’m happy to be spending it here with you all.”