Coming Home for Christmas

by Max Hudson

  “What?” Miles’ eyes widened. Then he was shaking his head. “Absolutely not!”

  “We don’t answer to you anymore.” Jonathan moved around Miles, not wanting to be in range once he started swinging. “The base is secure. The high school is really good, and Megan will be happier in a better environment. She’ll be able to flourish.”

  “A better environment?” Lynn frowned. “Are you saying we’re not safe?”

  “I’m saying it’s healthier for everyone. If she wants a relationship with either of you, putting some distance might be able to help.”

  Although from the way things had been going lately, Jonathan didn’t think that was likely. He just wanted to see his sister smile again. Miles was still shaking his head, his hands balled into fists.

  “She is not going anywhere. I forbid it.”

  “She’s eighteen now, Dad.” Blake said sharply. “An adult. If you called the cops on her, they would tell you that there’s nothing they can do as Megan’s not a child.”

  Miles snorted. Then he pointed to the corner of the room where the scratching post had been.

  “She may be an adult, but she’s still going to answer to me. She took Buster. That’s theft. And that the cops are going to deal with.”

  “Buster is Megan’s cat!” Emily cried.

  “He is not. I won’t tolerate theft.”

  Jonathan snorted. The cops would laugh at that as well.

  “Just because things are getting out of your control doesn’t mean you can try and get it back by calling in a false police report.”

  Miles advanced on him, and Jonathan had to stop himself from stepping back. Miles was inches away from his voice, baring his teeth. He looked like a wild animal.

  “Are you trying to tell me what to do in my own house?” He growled. “I have no idea how you’ve managed to get your rank, but it’s going to your head. Thank God you’re not in charge of me.” He swung around, his shoulder bumping against Jonathan’s chest. “Get out of here, all of you. We’ll talk later.”

  “I don’t think so.” Carly headed toward the door. “I think I’m going to get my things and head out.”

  “But…” Lynn shot to her feet. “It’s Christmas! You can’t leave at Christmas!”

  “I can.” Carly sighed. “Christmas was over years ago for us. We don’t have to come now we’re all out. And I’m certainly not wasting time with my parents when I want to spend it with my fiancé.”

  “Fiancé?” Lynn swayed. “You’re getting married.”

  “Yes, I am. And I assure you, neither of you are invited to the wedding.” Carly touched Blake’s back as she passed, nodding at Jonathan as she reached the door. “I’ll let you know when I’m going. Let me know how things go.”

  Chapter Five

  When Stewart’s alarm went off, he set it to snooze and dozed back to sleep again. Five minutes later, it started buzzing again and Stewart turned it off. Then he lay staring at the ceiling for a while. He was still going over those few moments in the kitchen last night. Those few moments with Jonathan.

  He should have made a move. Perfect opportunity. God only knew when Stewart was going to get another chance. If not get him into bed, then to at least know what he tasted like. Stewart had always wanted to know. And for a moment, he thought Jonathan was feeling the same way. But then Jonathan had withdrawn so quickly that he almost fell over leaving.

  Stewart could take a rejection when he saw one. And it hurt.

  That would have been one of his best Christmas presents. Stewart would have found out for real if Jonathan was just what he was looking for. Something he wouldn’t know until he got a taste. And now it was gone.

  Then again, maybe it wasn’t rejection. Maybe it was Jonathan nervous about going further with it. He wasn’t as confident as Stewart in what he really wanted. Submissive, perhaps? That Stewart could work with.

  If Jonathan ever came back into his house again.

  Knowing that staring at the ceiling wasn’t going to help him, Stewart eased out of bed. He showered, shaved and dressed, still trying to shake the urge to go back to bed. It had been after two in the morning before he fell asleep. Stewart didn’t function well on less than six hours of sleep. Maybe a workout in the basement after having breakfast would help his brain get back to its usual function.

  The pancakes were cooking nicely in the pan when Stewart heard shuffling feet. He turned to see Megan come in. She was wearing pale blue pajamas pants and a dark blue jumper, her hair messed up on one side. She looked so young, so worn out. Buster trotted in behind her and curled around Stewart’s legs.

  “Hey, buddy.” Stewart leaned over and scratched his ears. “Don’t trip me up or nobody’s having any breakfast.”

  “What are you making?” Megan asked, leaning against the center counter. “Smells good.”

  “Pancakes. You want some?”

  “Please?” Megan yawned loudly, trying to cover it with her hand with little success. “God, I’m tired.”

  “You could always go back to bed.” Stewart moved the pancakes to a plate and then poured syrup on top. “It’s Boxing Day. No need to be up at all.”

  “Force of habit. Dad always wakes us up early, no matter what.” Megan made a face. “He does it with me, saying that just because it’s the holidays I still need to get up at the time I would for school so I can get things out of the way.”

  “You are allowed to sleep in on days where you don’t need to do anything.” Stewart said as he carried the plate over to Megan, handing her a fork. “You’re young and we grow as we sleep.”

  “Says the person who’s up at six looking like he’s about to go work out.”

  Stewart grinned. He went back to the stove, almost stepping on Buster, and picked up a bowl with the pancake mix.

  “I’m a creature of habit. And I’ve done my growing.” He poured the mix into the pan. “Things have to be just so with me, or I’m completely out of whack.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Megan watched him as she popped a fork laden with pancake into her mouth. She made a noise of approval. “This is really good. I can’t remember the last time Mom made pancakes.”

  “I’m glad you can enjoy.” Stewart indicated the carton of orange juice near Megan’s seat. “Pour yourself a glass of that. And could you do one for me?”

  “Sure.”

  Megan fixed the drinks and then went to Buster’s food bowls, which were on the floor by the back door. She filled them while Stewart made his pancakes and came to join Megan at the counter. They sat down while Buster started gobbling down his food. Megan started eating the pancakes like she was starving.

  “You make it look like they don’t feed you.”

  “I love pancakes and Mom and Dad say I have to eat fruit and cereal for breakfast. Apparently, it fills you up.” Megan shook her head. “I’m hungry nearly two hours later. Besides, these are really good.”

  Stewart chuckled.

  “I’m glad. Mom made sure I could cook as soon as I was tall enough to look over the stove.”

  “Lucky you.” Megan sighed. “Mom and Dad told me that cooking would result in me getting hurt. I could burn or scald myself, even as I proved with my classes at school that I could make things in food tech without any mishaps. If my teacher at school hadn’t taught me, all I would be able to use would be the kettle, and only because Carly showed me.”

  “Seriously?” Stewart stared. “They never let you have some independence?”

  “Nope. They made sure I was reliant on them for everything.” Megan made a face. “They allowed a bit of leeway to go and study with friends they had vetted, and even then, they would constantly call me to make sure I was really there. I wasn’t allowed to have friends over, and it was all about my studies. How I managed to get a boyfriend and close friends, I have no idea. Dad was enough to make anyone run.”

  Stewart listened to her in silence. He knew from all of Megan’s other siblings that they had a very short leash and everything was
watched very closely by Miles and Lynn. They had managed to get out of the house, some a bit later than others due to college - it was difficult to say they weren’t coming back when they wanted a degree to get out, or the money would stop coming in. Stewart could only imagine the reactions from Miles and Lynn when they find out that the degree paths they purposefully chose for their children were not going to be followed, and they wouldn’t get what they wanted.

  “Is that what you were arguing about on your birthday?” Stewart asked, reaching for his glass. “About the hovering?”

  “Yes.” Megan looked down at her plate, now prodding at the half-eaten pancakes with her fork. “I was at Darren’s, and then I was going to my friend Stacey’s for a sleepover. My first ever sleepover. I thought my parents were finally changing now I was eighteen, allowing me a bit more leeway. I told my parents what I was doing and where I would be, but they kept calling. When I stopped answering as it was ruining my day, they drove around the neighborhood looking for me. Found my car and took it home. I managed to get a ride with Stacey’s parents, but the text messages I kept getting from Dad were ruining the evening. I couldn’t enjoy myself knowing they had taken my car and were calling me a liar.” Megan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Mom and Dad said I lied to them about where I was. I just wish they would listen.”

  Stewart ate his breakfast in silence as he listened. It sounded like Megan wanted to talk, someone to vent to who wasn’t her family. It was like a second job for him, being there for one of the Rodney children. Stewart didn’t mind; they were a great bunch of people who somehow managed to get away from the apron strings wrapped around their necks. And it meant talking to Jonathan, which was a plus.

  “Why do people turn out like that?” Megan huffed. “Why do they feel the need to control absolutely everything about someone’s life?”

  “Maybe they didn’t get that control when they were young.” Stewart sipped at his juice. “Maybe they didn’t become what they wanted to be, and so they’re trying to live through everyone else. In their case, through their seven children. But each of the children haven’t done what they wanted for them, so now they’re focusing on you. A little too much, from the sound of it.”

  “But my brothers and sisters are successful.” Megan protested. “They’re great people. How can Mom and Dad be upset about their careers?”

  “Because it’s not what they wanted. I guess success doesn’t mean anything if it’s not the final outcome you were expecting.”

  Megan grunted. She folded her arms on the counter.

  “Maybe that’s why I’ve never met my grandparents on either side. Mom and Dad said to me years ago that they were dead, but Carly says all four of them are alive and living in Washington. One of Dad’s brothers is actually her boss in Alaska. According to her, they’re good people. Sweet as can be.”

  Jonathan had told Stewart before that he had been to see his maternal grandparents in Seattle. He had been surprised to know they were alive, and even more surprised at how nice and caring they were after expecting the worst.

  “Then your parents have very high expectations and want to make sure it goes their way. When it doesn’t, they lash out and make it all about them again.”

  “And we get the brunt of it.” Megan sighed. “It’s mad as well. Blake and Carly are in law enforcement and deal with dangerous people. And Jonathan has to deal with a lot with his job. You don’t become a lieutenant commander because you’re a wuss. Yet when they’re around Dad, they’re scared of him.”

  “I’m scared of him and I’m a neighbor.”

  “I can imagine.” Megan picked up his fork and speared some pancake, swirling it in the syrup before popping it into her mouth. “Dad wants me to become a doctor. Preferably private practice or a consultant. But I’m terrible at science. It’s my worst subject. I prefer art, drama and history. But I’m not allowed to pursue it. It has to be all about sciences before I can contemplate anything else. My teachers have suggested playing to my strengths with my parents, since I would have a better chance at graduating with a higher mark if I took subjects I was good at, but Dad won’t hear of it. It’s sciences or I can forget going to college.”

  “Which you want to do.”

  “Definitely.” Megan lifted her chin, giving Stewart a defiant look. “I want to be an artist, or something to do with art. I love it.”

  Stewart chuckled.

  “You don’t need to be so defensive to me, Megan. And I would say if you want to be an artist, go for it. You’d have to have a day job lined up until the income levels out, but there’s nothing stopping you. And making you become a doctor when you clearly don’t want to be one is going to be more detrimental to you than anything else.”

  “I’m glad you understand.” Megan’s shoulders slumped. “It’s what set off the arguments the day after my birthday. I said I wasn’t going to be a doctor, that my art teacher had said she could put my name forward for a scholarship at a prestigious university in New York. Dad was so mad when I told him. Mom was...she was just standing in the corner shaking her head. She didn’t come to my defense at all.”

  Stewart couldn’t come to terms with that. He had grown up with parents who had loved him no matter what and came to his rescue whenever he needed them. To have a parent not stand up for you when you needed them had to hurt.

  There was something really wrong with Miles and Lynn Rodney, Stewart was sure. He wasn’t sure exactly what was wrong with them, but he did know that they were not willing to change. Not even when all their children were on the cusp of cutting contact with them completely. Chances were, when that happened, neither of them would admit fault, that it was the result of ungrateful children.

  Bury their heads in the sand, as always.

  “I’m scared.” Megan said. “I’m glad to be out of there, but I’m still scared. It’s going to be a few days before I’m six hours away. I know Dad’s going to come after me, so being on the base will make me feel safer. No offence.” She added suddenly, glancing at Stewart.

  Stewart smiled.

  “No need. I know what you meant. And you’ll be fine. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Stewart looked at the clock. “Look, why don’t you get dressed and meet me in the basement? We can do a bit of a workout before I show you some simple cooking skills.”

  Megan stared at him. Then she smiled, the smile reaching her eyes.

  “Okay. I’d like that.”

  ***

  “You what?” Miles’ bellow made Jonathan’s ears ring. “You can’t do anything?”

  The police officer sighed and rubbed at his eyes. Jonathan could only imagine what was going on in his head.

  “Mr. Rodney, your daughter is eighteen. She’s classed as an adult in the eyes of the law. If she’s left the house under her own volition, there’s nothing we can do.”

  “She’s my daughter!” Miles yelled. He looked ready to punch the officer.

  “I understand that, but that doesn’t change anything. If she wanted to leave, that’s it. We can’t force her to come back.”

  At least the police were being reasonable. Miles had contacted them soon after Carly had left, telling them that his adult children had taken his daughter away and were refusing to return her. They had come over pretty quickly, but when Jonathan and Blake, who had decided to stay behind while the others went upstairs to pack, explained about Megan’s age and the hostilities, their behavior changed. Now Miles could see he wasn’t going to get his own way, and it was making him furious.

  Jonathan had to admit he liked seeing his father see control slip from his fingers.

  “Can’t you just find her and tell her to come home?” Lynn asked. She was holding onto her husband’s arm. “Tell her that we can work things out?”

  “She’s not classed as a missing person, Mrs. Rodney.” The second officer, a woman with blonde hair in a ponytail, said from the doorway. She was looking as annoyed as her partner at the false report. “An adult has to be missing f
or seventy-two hours before you can call it in. And I’m guessing she’s not a missing person if the rest of her family know where she is.”

  “We know where she is, Officer.” Blake said. “And Megan is safe. We’ve already got plans to set up permanent accommodation for her.” He nodded at Jonathan. “She’s going to be living with my brother.”

  The female officer raised her eyebrows as she eyed Jonathan up and down.

  “And she’ll be safe with you?”

  “I’m a naval commander, Officer.” Jonathan smiled. “I can’t think of a safer place than being with me.”

  “She’s the safest at home!” Miles was practically screaming. He pulled away from Lynn’s grasp and squared up to the male officer. “That girl left our house in the middle of the night and stole our property, and you’re telling us there’s nothing we can do?”

  “That’s exactly what we’re saying.”

  “But she stole our cat!” Lynn cried.

  Jonathan pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. This screaming was making his head pound.

  “Mom, we’ve been over this. Buster is Megan’s cat. Emily gave her Buster when she was ten. It’s what we’ve all known.”

  “I didn’t say you could contribute to that, Jonathan!” Miles snapped. “We’ve got more important things to worry about!”

  Jonathan glanced at Blake, and a silent understanding passed between them. Blake stayed behind as Jonathan headed toward the door, beckoning the female officer with him. She followed, stepping out after him onto the porch. Jonathan closed the door.

  “I’m sorry about all that, Officer…?”

  “Price.” She looked back at the house as Miles’ shouting started up again. “He’s probably bursting my partner’s ears in there.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time. I’m surprised none of us ended up deaf.”

  “Is he always like that?”

  “I’m afraid so.” Jonathan sighed. “And it doesn’t get any better. I’m sure he’s moments away from being arrested for threatening an officer.”

  Price raised her eyebrows.