It Came Upon A Mitchell Clear
Written By: Jennifer Foor
A Mitchell Family Novella
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Don’t be a thief
A Mitchell-Healy novella
Copyright © 2018 Jennifer Foor
All Rights Reserved
This book is a written act of fiction. Any places, characters, or similarities are purely coincidence. If certain places or characters are referenced it is for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This book is not allowed to be offered for sale, discounted, or free on any sites by anyone other than JENNIFER FOOR. To reiterate: This book may ONLY be distributed by Jennifer Foor, the owner and Author of this series.
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The Mitchell Family Series is an ongoing collection of stories featuring one particular family. This novella is best enjoyed if you’ve read the other books first.
The Mitchell Family Series
Letting Go
Folding Hearts
Raging Love
Risking Fate
Wrapping Up
Wanting More
Saving us
Blinding Trust
Losing Him
Loving her
The Mitchell-Healy Series
Noah
Isabella
Christian
Jake
Merry Mitchell Affair
Jax
Addison
Jingle All the Mitchell Way
Cassie
Cammie
Callie
Rockin Around the Mitchell Tree
Joshua
Fight like a Mitchell
It Came Upon a Mitchell Clear
Intro
Tyler Mitchell
It’s four o’clock in the morning on Christmas and Miranda and I are standing in the middle of what appears to be walls and walls stacked to the ceiling of wrapped presents. My fingers ache from the paper cuts and all that intricate folding my wife insisted had to be done.
This shouldn’t be the way the holiday starts, but things happen. According to Colt and Van, the day before they were all set to head out they came down with a crippling stomach virus. By noon that morning, not just Noah’s crew, but almost all of them were spending a good amount of time racing to the toilet with stuff coming from both ends. I’d like to say we had things under control with the delay in their arrival, but it wasn’t the case.
My family procrastinates when it comes to shopping, mostly waiting for the other females to arrive to even begin to shop. With that being said, a lot of plans were rearranged.
It took almost a week for the plague to run its course through the family before they were able to consider traveling. For a while I was thinking it might be the first holiday that we didn’t spend together. As heart shattering as it was to think about, there were a lot of young ones we didn’t want getting sick here in North Carolina.
The family keeps growing. My grandkids are the light of my life, but damn if they don’t drain my energy.
I’ve always appreciated a full house until we had to do everything ourselves. Amy and Conner couldn’t even lend a hand with preparing the guest barn for everyone’s arrival, because they’d decided to host Callie’s in-laws, Jessie and Heather. That’s a whole other story, but to make it short, we have a past and we’ve kept our distance, agreeing that we can all manage to get along for the Christmas events. Other than that, we’re sticking on our side of the ranch and doing our best not to run into them.
Time may heal old wounds, but for me and Miranda it’s hard to forget. Bad memories make it difficult to set aside differences, even for the kids. Heather may have turned her life around, not that I care. She could be the best mother in the world, a perfect grandmother, but I refuse to accept it’s possible, even when deep down I know people can change.
After the change of travel plans, we watched as packages for the entire family were delivered to our house. Usually, when the family comes to our ranch, Colt will load up his RV with every single travelers gifts, then they’d caravan to the farm and get settled at whichever place they were going to sleep. Nonetheless, this year they were going to have to fly in, making the package issue front and center. They shipped everything to us ahead of time, because my wife and I assured them we could do all the wrapping for the whole family.
Big mistake!
We got busy, cleaning, preparing, and last minute shopping. Wrapping got put on the backburner and soon it was Christmas Eve with nothing wrapped.
This is something the women always took care of together. They’d drink wine and make a night of it once everyone had arrived at the ranch.
The guys were in charge of putting things together and preparing the barn for the big event. We did the decorating, and kept the kids occupied. Okay, the latter is probably more explained with bribes to the older kids to watch the younger ones while we played cards, shot pool, and drank.
It’s how it’s been done since we were children.
Just imagine what it was like to watch each package being delivered. One day I literally witnessed a brown truck pull into our driveway. An hour later he was still scanning packages as we waited to carry the next box indoors. I even asked Conner to stick around and help us stuff them into the kids’ old rooms. This happened two days in a row. I mean, I know we have a ton of kids in this family, but damn, we should just own our own toy store.
The real fun began after the last package arrived Christmas Eve morning. Insert sarcasm.
Even before we could begin the process of wrapping, we first had to sift through the crazy people last minute Christmas shopping. Miranda was adamant that we buy every can of Lysol available, in order to disinfect every single object before making sure it was Santa approved.
It’s funny, I thought once we got older it would be less wrapping, but low and behold that theory has come to bite me in the ass ten-fold.
I assumed my wife would have me climb into the attic and bring down every single gift bag she’d ever stashed up there. Let’s face it; my wife is a closet hoarder. If she can find a place for it, no matter the item, it will remain in our home, her purse and even pockets. Just last night I discovered a receipt in an old coat from eight years ago. Eight years.
Who the hell saves receipts from eight years ago? It wasn’t even a significant purchase. It was from the local farm store for a pack of paper plates and a two-liter of cola. I can’t make this shit up.
I was sent out into the mass of chaos a second time to pick up enough paper and accessories to make the boxes look like damn elves puked glitter all over them. I know that shit will be found in my ears until Christmas next year, not to mention the smell of tape. Has anyone else noticed it has a smell? Does it bother anyone the way it does me? I’d rather use school glue. In fact I tried. I went into the craft cabinet and pulled out a white container of the good stuff. After two small boxes were sealed Miranda noticed. Yeah, it didn’t go over the way I thought it would. She wasn’t even impressed. Not one bit.
I was tired the fourth package in, so I figured I could save time and just wrap the paper all around and leave them in large stacks. The kids would only have to walk over and rip the front pap
er off, displaying their stack of goods. It was genius.
She made me take it all off and start over again.
What I hadn’t considered was that while the stacks were fine in the house, they’d have to be moved to the barn. My idea was shit. As always. Miranda for the win.
I suggested we call in reinforcements, also known as our adult children. Nope, she wasn’t having it. This was time for us to bond doing something special for the people we love. This was something we would be proud of as we watched everyone opening on Christmas Day.
I’m pretty sure I’m going to get pissed when they rip all of my hard work into piles of trash just to get what’s inside.
I questioned why we wrap at all. What’s the point? Let the kids come down to a room full of cool crap they’ll play with for a couple weeks and then leave around the house until it’s thrown away. Makes sense to me.
Bring on the liquor.
I watch as my overly exhausted wife plops down on the only few inches of couch that aren’t covered in packages, paper, tape, or ribbons. The oversized cushions with that micro suede fabric calls to me as I watch with jealous intent. Miranda’s eyes are closed as her arms both suddenly fall to the sides of her thighs. “We’re too old for all this work.”
One of the boxes in my pile begins to shake and make noise. It stops and then starts again, shaking so much the package on top of it tips over and falls onto a smaller pile beside it. “Ty, what’s in that box?”
I shrug. I’ve been trying to come up with a way to get rid of a stray cat Sarah convinced her grandmother to keep inside of our house. I’ve tried several times to put it in the pole barn to keep the mice away. The fluffy sucker thinks it’s okay to sleep on my face at night, and I swear the little demon critter can open doors, because I lock him out of the bedroom before I go to sleep and wake up with his ass right over my mouth, every single night. I swear that sucker gave me pink eye. Wrapping it for one of the grandkids is a surefire way to get him out of my house. They’ll want to keep it and because it’s Christmas their parents won’t be able to say no. It’s a win-win for the kids and me.
When I refuse to respond Miranda gets up and heads in the direction of the box. She lifts it and a loud whine then a deep growl comes from within. “You didn’t.”
Shrugging, a natural grin on my face, I do my best to lie through my teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“If you wrapped up the cat I’m going to hogtie your ass up and feed you to the critters outside.”
“Your threats don’t scare me. If you open that box I’ll put snakes in your bed.”
“Our bed,” she corrects.
I watch, trying hard not to laugh, as she rips open the package and out jumps the cat. He dashes for the lighted Christmas tree and leaps into the middle like it’s his safe place.
“Oh my God, Ty, what the hell?”
Throwing my hands in the air, I plead my case. “See! He’s evil.”
“That is the friendliest cat in the world. You’re just a jerk.”
She sits back down on the couch and rubs her temples. “It’s Christmas and I’m too tired to deal with it. There better not be anything else that requires food and water to live wrapped in boxes, Ty. If there is, get it out.” Her side-eye is vicious. It actually scares me. Miranda plays a hard bargain. She knows how to cut me off and make me suffer.
It’s still not enough to make me want to appease her wishes, so I play along with her worry. “I feel like death. Just let me sit here for a couple minutes and then I’ll straighten up the mess. Hopefully the cat gets electrocuted.” I yawn as the words come out, making my voice sound as drowsy as I feel. “Shit, I’m about to come over there and join you.”
“You’re full of crap, and don’t you dare say that. She jumps up and unplugs the tree to prevent it from happening. Then Miranda plops her butt back on the couch and pulls a throw cover over her body. “I can’t believe it’s already Christmas. Where has the time gone?” Miranda says in a sort of matter of fact way.
“Yeah, it feels like yesterday when we were young and horny, running around having a secret tryst behind everyone’s backs. Remember when everything on our bodies was tight and sexy?”
“I thought I still was sexy. Thanks for killing my ego.” She sort of laughs and coughs at the same time.
“Yeah, it wasn’t yesterday, babe. Those days are long gone. They were fun while they lasted, you know, before Iz could talk, and then the twins came along.”
“You are seriously on the Christmas shit list, Ty. I’m replacing your presents with coal and fresh dog doo.”
“Okay, for the record you’re still hot. You’re a GILF.”
“Please don’t.” She already knows what’s coming.
I don’t even chuckle. “Well it’s true. A grandmother I like to fu…”
“Tyler!” Her serious face, the one that warns me to back off, comes to life. Never mess with an exhausted woman. “Can you please behave for five minutes?”
It’s silent for a couple moments. I’m itching to say something funny, but she speaks instead. “You haven’t changed that much either.”
“I’m way sexier now.”
She tosses a Christmas pillow at me. “You’re something, but I wouldn’t characterize it as sexy. You’re cuddlier. Like one of those giant teddy bears people climb in and run around those big stores. Remember the videos? Shoot, it’s probably you and the twins. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”
“I deserve that. I wish I could take credit, but it wasn’t me. The only thing a teddy bear is good for is jerking off when you’re in your teens. Hides all the evidence.”
She cringes remembering finding one in the twins’ room years ago. “Gross.”
“It’s true about our life though. There hasn’t been a dull moment since the twins.”
She agrees. “Yeah, you’ve got that right.”
It’s quiet for a second, and since that’s rare in this household, we give it a couple more minutes before she continues. “Speaking of old times, I think I should bring up the elephant in the room situation.”
“What?” I’m too tired to think, but I do know who she’s talking about.
“Your old flame.”
My brow furrows. “My old what?”
“Okay, she’s not really a flame. My choice of words is off. Conquest is more like it, or ex-booty call chick.”
I give her one of my looks where she’s about to get tickled to death if she doesn’t stop taunting me with accusations. “Okay, since there’s only one real female you can be talking about I’ll stop you right there. Have you spoken to her?”
It’s complicated when it comes to Heather. She’s done so much harm to my family. If Van hadn’t been all about forgiveness I don’t think any of us would bat an eye if she walked right up to us. She does have a connection to us through our niece, albeit we don’t hear much about her. A lot of years have gone by now, but I still get a bitter taste in my mouth when the name comes up. “That woman can suck the air out of a room in seconds. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”
“People change, I know, but deep down inside it still bothers me. Still it’s Christmas and she has a right to spend time with her family too.”
“I honestly wish she never existed. Think about it, babe, she caused so much problems for our family. She hurt Van, and you, her actions almost caused us to lose the twins, and I almost watched you die too. She and Amy had to go through all that hell with Rick. It’s like everything she touched turned to shit.”
“I don’t look at it that way anymore, Ty. Think about all that we have. Things happen for a reason. If there was a chance that it would have changed the life we have now, I wouldn’t risk it. I don’t have hate in my heart like you do when it comes to Heather. I have too much love to give instead.”
“I admire you for that. I really do, but for some reason I can’t get past it. I don’t want to forgive and forget. I want to always be reminded of the stu
pid mistakes I made that could have cost so many so much.” It’s understandable this upsets Miranda. The older we get the more she wants to see the good in people. I wish I had her compassion, but I don’t with Heather. I never will.
Envious and about to pass out myself, I shove away the remnants of our wrapping supplies and deliberately fall into the soft cushion next to her. My head leans sideways so I’m able to kiss the top of hers as my own eyes fail to stay open. I should be dreaming of sugarplums by now, but my brain refuses to shut off. I begin to chuckle with no regard to anything being funny. Maybe it’s the extreme tiredness from the amount of things we’ve managed to get done alone in the last two days, but my imagination takes me back to a time before we were married, to another time my precious Miranda was so out of sorts.
My cousin Colt and I had been out at his ranch in Kentucky, where my wife also lived while growing up. She was several years younger and always running around with the wrong crowd. I swear she only did it for the attention. Back then she was struggling with the sudden loss of her father and finding her place in a new family dynamic. Along with her brother Conner, they devised a plan to go out and get wasted in one of the barns. The rebellious teens thought it would be a good idea to mix Wild Turkey and Rum with some sugar induced gallon of fruit punch. I can still vividly recall the way it smelled mixed together, digested, and then vomited back up.
There’s also the recollection of the way it somehow managed to fill every bit of her hair that night. I want to gag at the thought of how many times it smacked against my face as I helped her to safety.
Colt and I knew she’d be in trouble, so as she laid there plopped down in a similar position as she is in my memory now, I ignored the awful smell and lifted her into my arms. I carried her to the closest house on the ranch, and Colt and I snuck her inside and began the tedious task of getting her cleaned up before her condition could be discovered.
Back then we used to pick on her so much. Sometimes I was sure she hated me, and I deserved every little minute of it, but that night all I could think about was caring for her until she sobered up and could take care of herself.
It Came Upon a Mitchell Clear: A Mitchell Holiday Novella (Mitchell Healy Series Book 16) Page 1