It Came Upon a Mitchell Clear: A Mitchell Holiday Novella (Mitchell Healy Series Book 16)

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It Came Upon a Mitchell Clear: A Mitchell Holiday Novella (Mitchell Healy Series Book 16) Page 7

by Jennifer Foor


  It’s beyond anything my father could have dreamed of having here at our ranch. We’ve come a long way, and I suppose at some point it became a competition between us and the Kentucky ranch to see who could have the best family space.

  It’s more likely that they’re equally entertaining. The second floor of each hosts several bunk rooms and two full bathrooms for everyone to stay comfortably. Truth be told, Colt and Van always stay at our house. Mostly the barn is for the kids. The only obstacle is to keep them up there without a bunch of sneaky peeking brats learning Santa is nothing but a fake persona their own parents lie about each year.

  I hear someone yell, “I see you peeking. Get back in those bunks or else Christmas is cancelled.”

  Josh, my nephew, is pointing up at the railing where two of his oldest children have their faces in between the posts and are watching as the adults carry in boxes of gifts. Fortunately, the tree and presents are positioned at the far corner of the large room where they aren’t able to see.

  Jake and Jax make their way over to their cousin to help him out, at the same time Josh gives me a nod like he does every morning at first light on the ranch. I’ve got to give the kid credit, he lives just down the road with his wife and children, where they’ve started to grow and sell produce. Not only does he maintain order at home, but also still shows up every morning to help out with the family business. The once slacker proved to be one of the hardest working people I’ve ever met.

  Someone puts their hand on my shoulder so I turn to see who it is. Van is smiling, pointing toward a cracked door we can see on the next level. “The kids are getting antsy. I think we’re almost ready, but I wanted to talk to you before the craziness starts.”

  I’m watching the adults hurry to finish setting up while she continues. “I know you guys aren’t thrilled about Heather being here this year.”

  “It’s fine.” My jaw and butthole both clench as I say it. I’m doing my best to disregard the crazy dream, yet it still remains fresh on my mind. “The place is big enough where we can avoid each other.”

  “Ty, please don’t be that way. Christmas is a time for family, for forgiveness and renewal. Don’t you think it’s time to do that?”

  I finally make eye contact with her. “Why is it so easy for you to forgive people?”

  She shrugs. “Life is easier when you let go of the hate.”

  “Preach it, sister!”

  She shoves me. “I’m being serious.”

  Nodding, I agree. “Yeah, I know. I admire that about you.”

  “Ty, it wasn’t yesterday. We’re all adults. We have grandchildren. She and Amy have to see one another. We knew this day would come and you agreed you’d be okay with it. I’m sorry for your regrets, nonetheless...”

  I cut her off. “I don’t regret Heather.” I say it so quickly, without effort or enthusiasm. Just one sentence that escapes my lips before I can comprehend the outcome.

  Her eyes widen with sheer surprise. “Since when?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve been enlightened. I’ve seen a glimpse of what life would be like had she not been in it. I’ve seen how much would have changed and how many people it would hurt without them ever knowing. Heather needed to exist. It all happened for a reason and I get it now. Don’t make me repeat it ten times, but I get it.”

  I give her a fast hug and then stand there taking her in. “I love you, Van. I’m so glad we’re family.”

  Miranda approaches us carrying more gift bags. Van directs her comment toward her. “What did you do to this man?”

  My wife smiles and takes her free hand up to rub the top of my head. “He’s got a few screws loose, but I’ll keep him.” She keeps walking, as if my new outlook is just some crazy talk.

  Van looks back at me as a group of people enter the space. It’s the remainder of adults that hadn’t arrived, minus a few stragglers that always arrive at lease twenty minutes late. “Just behave today, okay?”

  We shake on it, which I can tell she finds juvenile.

  Cammie walks up to me carrying a disposable cup of coffee and hands it to me. “Merry Christmas, Uncle Ty. I was told to give you this. Word is you need it.”

  “Thanks, Cam.”

  “Mom is worried about today. She thinks Jacob’s family is going to ruin the holiday, but she won’t talk about it. I can tell she’s still bothered by the idea.”

  “Your mom doesn’t have to worry. Jacob doesn’t have to worry either. He has every right to invite his parents for Christmas. Your mom hates when they spend Christmas at the B&B instead of the ranches with us. It’s hard on her. This pleases everyone.”

  I pull my niece close and kiss the top of her head. “I promise you, they’ll be fine. It ain’t about gifts or grudges. We’re here to celebrate the birth of our Lord and Savior. At the end of the day it’s all we need to worry about.”

  When she feels assured, she goes back to gathering with the rest of the adults who are awaiting the stragglers so we are able to release the hounds, also known as the awaiting young children imprisoned just a floor above us. I’m surprised none of them have figured out they could tie sheets together and escape from the windows. Colt, Conner and I would have done that for sure at their ages.

  Heather and Amy come into the barn together. They have dishes of prepared food in their hands and are having a conversation about something that makes them both smile. Callie and Jacob freeze in place when they see me standing in the way. Heather’s face contorts the moment our eyes meet. She seems just as apprehensive about this holiday gathering as we are.

  Van, on the other hand, saunters toward her, embracing her as if they’re part of her family. In the back of my mind I’m calling her a traitor for her ability to forgive. I’m fully aware it’s wrong, but it happens regardless.

  There’s enough people in this building where I could avoid her the entire time without much effort, and in a lot of ways I think my relatives are hoping that’s exactly my plan. A long time ago we made a pact that we wouldn’t ever bring drama into our family events. We’ve had drunken quarrels, usually ending with our wives threatening to hogtie our balls, but it never escalates to anything more. For the most part, our family gets along. We get feisty, but it’s usually in good fun.

  We’ve had months to prepare for this altercation. There have been plenty of scenarios that have played havoc with my mind. The dream, still so fresh, goes against everything I thought I felt. There’s no longer a need to be spiteful. I don’t have to drug her eggnog so she passes out and has to miss the fun. There’s no chance she’s going to try to seduce any of us. Hell, if Van didn’t gossip, I’d swear Colt couldn’t get it up anymore, but apparently he’s still a wild stallion under the sheets. Her words, not mine.

  Gross!

  I begin to head in her direction, with no regard of how my entire family is going to freak out when they it see it playing out. I can only imagine how they’ll think I’m about to send her packing, or worse. I wouldn’t have faith in me either, because up until a couple hours ago I wasn’t sure I’d be able to contain my vengeful thoughts.

  I wholeheartedly believe that divine intervention played a part in my dream. Sure, it could have been the alcohol, or my guilty conscious. We sit in church every Sunday listening to the gospel and learning about forgiveness and judgment, yet I’m usually the first person to kick up a problem with someone for one reason or another.

  Heather’s eyes widen more with every step I take. The room goes silent, as if they all are waiting for the explosive words to come out of my mouth. I get about ten inches from her and halt. This is close enough to say my peace. “Heather,” I announce with a nod.

  “Ty. It’s been a long time.” She fidgets as she stands, showing off her discomfort being the center of attention. Oh how things have changed.

  Out of the corner of my eye I spot her husband entering with more gifts. I swear the toy stores have to be empty. My eyes dart back to Heather. My tone is firm and steady. “It took a lot for
you to want to come here.”

  “Ty, listen, I wanted to call you, but Amy said…”

  I hold up my hand. “I get it. You have grandchildren and you’ve been missing out on holidays for things that happened between all of us in the past. They say time heals all wounds. Maybe it’s true, because I’m tired of being one of the reasons my niece and your son feared inviting you to celebrate Christmas with us. We go way back, you and I. We’ve had a lot of bad, but because of the bad we’ve both been blessed beyond belief. I wouldn’t change a damn thing. It brought us to where we are today. Look around, Heather. This is what I live every day for.” I clench my jaw before continuing, probably because it’s still tough to admit this to my whole family, including a very curious Miranda. “It’s time for new traditions. We need to be around for the kids and grandkids. We need to let go of past mistakes and live in the present, if not for us, then for our kids who never asked for anything but all of us to get along. I’m too damn old to care about the things none of us can change. A couple wise women told me to forgive, and after much consideration I’ve realized they’re right. I’m just as ass at the end of the day, an ass that needs to stop being an ass, so my old ass doesn’t die alone. Okay, maybe I said ass too many times. Let’s just disregard the last couple sentences.” I extend my hand. “So I want to officially welcome you to Mitchell family Christmas. I want you to feel comfortable and make yourselves at home. I think I speak for all of us when I say it’s time to let bygones be bygones.”

  Heather looks over to Jessie. She sort of half smiles, then brings her attention back to me. Tears are streaming down her face and she’s actually trembling when I take a closer look.

  She doesn’t take my hand. She just remains in the same place, staring and now crying. Her husband narrows the distance between them, but before he has a chance to take her into his arms, I make a kneejerk decision that causes some people in the room to gasp. Without warning, I reach out and grab the chest section of her ugly Christmas sweater and pull her into a hug. It’s feel so wrong, even though in hindsight I know it’s the right thing to do. She needs to know my sincerity, and whoever forced that dream on me needs to know I learned my lesson. My days of Heather grudges are over.

  Heather doesn’t actually reciprocate the hug. My pride remains in tact though. I don’t think I’d want to hug me either. I probably still smell like scotch tape and eggnog burps, not to mention we’ve been at each other’s throats for most of our lives. She probably took that into consideration and needed all of her momentum in case I ended up trying to choke her out.

  Finally, I say something in her ear before she’s able to pull away. “I forgive you if you forgive me too.”

  She cries harder, and a small part of me has to swallow back my own emotions so I don’t appear weak.

  The room fills with applauding. I’m not sure it’s appropriate, but as we break apart we’re both smiling. “Thank you, Ty. I almost didn’t come today. I didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, especially you and Miranda.” She looks at my wife as she says it. I can tell Miranda is impressed with my change of heart. I’ll probably get lucky tonight if I can keep my ass awake, and her ass away from the wine.

  I watch as my beautiful, festive dressed, always skeptical but also loving, wife walks in our direction. She reaches out and hugs Heather for the first time in their lives. “It time we started putting our family first. There’s too much to be thankful for, that’s what I say. If you want to spend the holiday with us, it’s your decision, but we cheat at cards, and all of us are sore losers, unless we’re winning.” When she pulls away she winks. Then at the top of her lungs she yells out for the kids. “Good gracious kids, do you want to open your presents or not?”

  And so it was, the building immersed in chaos and after a few seconds the serious vibe in the room turned into excitement and celebration. The head count was far too many to count. The children, all strung out on sugar from their stockings, were the loudest they’d ever been. With a heavy flatulence in the air, and a whole lot of Mitchell traditions undergo, the day was one of the most memorable to date. It was also nice to watch all of the grown adults open their presents from yours truly. I’d found this company on the internet that puts your face on clothing. Each and every family member got mine and Miranda’s lovely faces, repeated in all directions on a pair of underwear.

  Best. Present. Ever.

 

 

 


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