Aggie says: I have a stack of presents a mile high for the three littlest kids, Tavish, and Laird. I have nearly nothing for Kenzie, Ellie, or Vannie.
Luke says: Oh, Mom had an idea for Vannie. Actually, she had a few. She suggested getting some kind of jewelry. She said something about the owl skirt and the chocolate dress if those make any sense to you.
Aggie says: Oh, good idea. What other ideas? You said plural. I need plural.
Luke says: Um, she said maybe go to Boho and get a gift certificate and wrap it. You could both go into the city to pick out her things and have lunch while you’re there. Vannie would love that. She also said maybe consider nail polish and a manicure set.
Aggie says: Those’ll work. I wondered about one of those e-readers. I mean, with all the literature she’s going to be doing, she’d get most of the books free; that’d pay for the cost of the thing over the life of it, and it’d save her eyes not reading the computer all the time.
Luke says: Those should be good. There. Vannie covered. What next?
Aggie says: Ellie.
Aggie says: Nope, Ian.
Luke says: You said you had a mile-high pile!
Aggie says: And he’s crying for them now. Gotta go.
Luke says: Love you.
Aggie says: Yeah.. that’s really nice to know right now. Love you too. Goodnight.
Luke stared at the screen, wondering what had bothered him during the conversation. Eventually it hit him, his heart sinking into his stomach. She hadn’t changed Aggie to Mibs. Something that silly shouldn’t bother him like it did, but he couldn’t help it. It felt like he’d lost something he didn’t know he valued until it was gone. Laird’s name stared back at him from the screen. What had he missed? Something was still wrong. Very wrong.
Chapter Eight
Books & Bootstraps
Tuesday, December 23
Kenzie’s math book was a mess of red marks. “You didn’t try, Kenzie. I know you know these. This is all review.”
“Here, Kenzie. I’ll help you,” Laird said. “C’mere.”
“Thanks, Laird. Ok, who’s next?”
Ellie pushed her grammar across the table. “I think I understand now.”
A shriek from the kitchen sent Aggie rushing from the room. “Check the first three sentences,” she called out behind her. “If they’re all right, correct the rest. If not, leave them.”
A strange sight greeted her as she entered the kitchen. Lorna sat straddling Cari, holding back the other girl’s feeble attempts to fight her off. “Not true! Say it’s not true! You are a liar, Cari. Liar!”
“Lorna! What’s wrong with you? Get off her.”
“Not until she says it’s not true!”
“What’s not true?”
“That you,” the little girl sniffed, “told Grandma Stuart that you didn’t want us to have any presents!”
“She did! I heard her tell Luke! Grandma isn’t sending presents!”
“Lorna,” Aggie ordered, fighting back the temptation to laugh, “stand up right now.”
“I—”
“Now!”
The little girl gave one last shove and stood up, her fists ready to attack if Cari came at her, but the younger twin seemed a bit subdued by such uncharacteristic aggression. “She started it,” Lorna interjected, as if it would make any difference.
Cari flung herself at Aggie. “We are having presents, right? You went shopping and everything.”
“Yes, we’re having presents.”
“See. Told you,” Cari gloated with a smugness that would have been hilarious if the situation hadn’t been so serious.
“But I heard you! I heard you tell Luke that Grandma isn’t sending presents!”
“She’s not, but I am. The law won’t let her send them, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t going to be any presents.” Aggie led them to the school room where Kenzie wept over her math problems. “You guys sit there—what’s wrong with Kenzie?”
“Her brain is fried. I think that’s why teachers usually have parties the last day of school. It’s hard for kids to concentrate with all the coming excitement.” He hardly gave Aggie a glance as he turned back to the math book and tried reminding her how to carry.
Aggie began to reply, but her phone rang, distracting her. “Just finish your assignments. I’ll be back.” Seconds later she burst through the doors. “Put your books away, Grandma and Grandpa are almost here! They came early!”
“Praise God for salvation.”
Her head spun sharply. “What?”
“Isn’t that how the song goes? ‘Praise God for salvation for whosoever will..’”
“No, it’s ‘praise God for full salvation for whosoever will,’ why?”
“Just seemed like a good song for Grandma’s arrival. I’ll go make sure their room is ready.”
Aggie was just out of earshot when Laird muttered, “If it’s relaxing, maybe they’ll stay a while this time.”
“What, Laird?”
He turned and shrugged, pushing past Vannie with unnecessary force. “Laird!”
“Laird!” he echoed, mocking her as he entered the room. It was cold. He checked the vents and pushed them open. Aunt Tina had only been gone for less than two weeks and already her room was closed off as if she’d been banished from the house.
“What’s wrong with you?”
He ignored Vannie’s accusatory tone and shook his head. “Just trying to get the room warm for Grandma. Is Kenzie ok?”
“Sure. She was just trying to work too fast to get done.”
“Most kids don’t do schoolwork two days before Christmas.”
“Most kids,” Vannie countered with hands on her hips, “don’t start school a month late. What’s gotten into you?”
“Did you know she has the vents shut off to this room? Are we so broke that heating one little room is going to make a difference? Why is she buying all those gifts if we can’t afford to heat a room?”
Vannie backed from the room, her head shaking. “That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s me. Ridiculous Laird. Go away, Vannie. I’ve got to make sure the sheets are clean.”
“Since when do you care about clean sheets?”
He threw her a nasty look and then stormed to the door, slamming it in her face. “Since now,” he muttered between clenched teeth.
~*~*~*~
William burst through the door seconds after Ron and Martha arrived. “What happened? Who—what?”
A room full of excited people stopped chattering and stared at him. Ron stepped forward, “Glad to see you, deputy. You didn’t have to rush over to welcome us.”
“You didn’t call?” His eyes sought Aggie’s. “Dispatch said we got another 9-1-1 call.”
“What?” Aggie’s eyes darted around the room, illogically landing on Laird, but the confusion on his face was genuine; she was sure of it. “I don’t know, William. Ian’s asleep—” At that thought, she dashed upstairs, expecting to find the baby playing with the phone in his crib, but Ian was sound asleep, crammed into his favorite corner of the crib.
She arrived at the bottom of the stairs in time to hear Kenzie insist William come see the presents under the tree. “I have a present for you. Look!”
“Sweetheart, I have to find out what happened with the phone, but thank you.”
The child was visibly crushed by her hero’s dismissal of her surprise, and Aggie saw something else there—something strange. “Kenzie, come here.”
Eyes wide, the little girl bolted from the room, through the kitchen, and out the back door. Confused, Aggie started to go after her, but William stopped her. “Let me. I think I understand quite a few things now. Where’s her coat?”
Laird followed him to the mudroom and handed him her coat saying, “Thanks. It’s good to see that someone cares.”
In the living room, he sat next to Martha and asked about their trip. Aggie watched him, curious, until a call from Tina distracted her. By the time s
he slid her phone shut again, William led a tearful Kenzie into the room and beckoned her to follow them into the mudroom.
“Wha—”
“Kenzie has something to tell you.”
“Kenzie?”
The little girl’s tears were half-frozen on her cheeks. She stared miserably at Aggie and said, “I called the number.”
“How many times, Kenzie?” William pressed.
“Almost all of them.”
“And why did you do it?”
Aggie began to protest. Why wasn’t really the issue. That she did it at all was sufficient. “She knows better. I don’t think—”
“I think she should tell you why.”
“I wanted him to come.” The girl’s sniffles made the next words difficult to understand, but the meaning was clear. “I wanted him to come, so he would like you.” She frowned. “But it didn’t work. You said no and now you’re going to marry Luke instead.”
The disappointed sniff in Kenzie’s voice as she emphasized Luke’s name was nearly Aggie’s undoing. She stifled a snicker and sent the girl to her room. “I’ll be up there in a few minutes.”
Just at the door, Kenzie turned and gave them a weak smile. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
“Darn tootin’ she won’t,” Aggie said as the door shut. She covered her mouth, trying not to laugh loudly enough for others to hear. “Can you believe that? Poor Luke.”
“I knew she wanted me to marry you, but I never realized how much or for how long she’s wanted it. She said she got the idea from the first call. I don’t know if any others were Ian’s doing, but most were hers.”
“All this time, I’ve thought that baby was a Houdini and it was Kenzie playing matchmaker?”
“Yeah.” William’s eyes seemed to be laughing. “Can you imagine what Sullivan will have to say about that.”
“I think you should be the one to tell him. I’ve got to get to Rockland. I have a guitar on hold at a music store. If I’m late, they’ll let it go.”
“For who?”
“Laird. I overheard him mention it a few weeks ago and forgot all about it.”
“Speaking of Laird, I think something’s wrong with him.”
Her eyes flew to search his. “Do you think so? I keep noticing little things that make me wonder, but then it’s gone and he’s normal again. I can’t decide what to think!”
“Watch him. If you need help, let me know, but I’m sure you and Luke can handle it.”
Aggie gave one last sorrowful glance back at William before she left the room. “I’m not sure of that anymore.”
Wednesday, December 24
Aggie’s bedroom looked like a wrapping center at a department store. Stacks of presents stood about her and rolls of wrapping paper littered the floor. Bows and ribbons seemed flung everywhere, in an apparent attempt to make everything be as festive as humanly possible.
A knock at her door sent a wave of panic over her. “Who—”
“It’s me,” Luke’s head peeked in the door. “Am I safe or are you still wrapping mine?”
“Very funny. I’m swallowed up by kids right now, thank-you-very-much.”
He whistled. “Santa’s workshop never looked this full!”
“I have so many—too many. I kept buying like Mom said, but now I can’t decide what to do. I evened out the gifts so that there aren’t ten for one and two for another, but now we have a pile for each one and a pile to go back. The whole back of the van is full of returns, assuming I ever have the time to go back to all those places.”
“I never thought I’d see the day when you spent this much money on anything without circumstance forcing it.”
Her eyes roved over the mountains of gifts and her face fell as she realized he was right. She’d overdone it. “What do I do? I couldn’t tell—”
“Give me a number. Let’s start there. Just give me a number, one, three, ten, fifty. I don’t care, but pick a number.”
“Five. Seems like I usually had about five gifts at Christmas.”
“That works.”
From time to time, Luke held out two options, waiting for her to choose, and then put the reject in a plastic bag. It took longer than expected, but after much effort, the piles were cut in half. “There.”
Aggie looked up from the audio books she was wrapping for her mother and frowned. “Still looks like a lot.”
“It is. You have before you forty gifts—not including the ones you’ve been working on. We might have to pull a few more out.”
“Nope. I’ve been working on my parents, Tina, your mother, Mrs. Dyke…”
Strong hands kneaded the knots in her shoulders as she surveyed the room once more. “I know this isn’t half what they’re used to, but I don’t think I can pull out more. I’m getting hives just looking at that.”
“Then let’s get the other stuff out of here anyway.”
Luke lifted the closest bag, but Aggie stopped him. “Wait. How can I give them what must seem like a cheap Christmas on the first year they lose their parents?”
“Do you plan to make it huge every year?”
“No…”
“Then they need a new normal. The important thing was to make this Christmas special—not recreate the past ones.”
Tears filled Aggie’s eyes. “And how did I do that? By disappearing every day, running myself crazy trying to find stuff, and being snappish because I was totally stressed out.”
“Then do the twelve days of Christmas to Epiphany with them. One fun thing a day. Cookies one day, caroling another—whatever. Make it a tradition that you do the fun stuff after the holiday. It’ll help with the whole letdown thing too.”
The idea was beginning to grow on her. “We could watch movies one day too. Maybe… oh, I’ve got a couple of days and maybe they can think of something!”
Once more, Luke tried to leave the room carrying the bags of rejected gifts, and Aggie stopped him. “Wait until they’re in bed. The last thing we want to do is give them the idea that they are being cheated.”
“That’s a depressing thought. I don’t think they’re that greedy, do you?”
“I don’t know anything right now,” Aggie confessed. “I just know that I’m not going to risk ruining this for them or my parents. Not this year.” She stacked another package on her hearth before asking, “Do you think I should give them next week off school? I wasn’t going to. I mean, they got part of yesterday off and today. Monday; that means five and a half days. Is that enough of a break or should I give them the week?”
“Why wouldn’t you? Don’t most kids get at least two weeks?”
“Yeah, well, but we started so late…”
“And didn’t you add extra work every day to help make up for that?”
Aggie frowned, thinking. “Yes, but I don’t know that it has made enough of a difference. I’d have to look where they are compared to where they should be.”
As she reached for the tape, Luke snatched it from the table. “Did you or did you not schedule that extra work so that they’d be caught up by the end of the year?”
“Yes…”
“Then why are you trying to catch them up on top of catching them up?”
The answer unnerved her even more than the question. “I already feel like I’m failing them, Luke. I need proof that they aren’t going to be so far behind at the end of the year that I have to put them in school—and back where they should have been this year.”
The emotion choking her seemed to change Luke’s mind about continuing the conversation. He shook his head and passed the tape back to her. “Why don’t we do this? Give the kids the week off. Their brains need the rest. Then, we’ll talk about this after the first week that they’re back, ok?”
A knock interrupted before Aggie could reply. “Can I come in?”
“Sure!” She beamed at her father. “Just in time to be put to work.”
“What on earth is all this?”
“I took Mom a little t
oo literally when she said buy whatever looks remotely interesting. The stuff in bags is going back—unless you think five presents each isn’t enough.”
“Five is plenty. It’s a fraction of their usual, sure, but that’ll be a relief. You can’t imagine how horrible Christmas mornings were with Geraldine. We tried a couple of times, but Martha couldn’t take it. You saw her at the twins’ birthday!” He grinned at Aggie’s relieved expression. “Between this and stockings, they’ll have a Christmas any kid could hope for!”
“Stockings!” Her wail was likely heard at the North Pole, but Aggie didn’t care. “I forgot. I got the few little things back when I expected a U-haul truck from the GIL and then promptly forgot about them.”
“We’ll pull from the bags. Where are the stockings? I’ll see what fits.” Luke seemed to hover in the doorway, waiting for direction to find Aggie’s new nemesis.
“They’re in my closet. Top shelf to the right.”
She hadn’t exaggerated. The limp stockings held the toothbrush, candy bar, and small silly item she’d described to her mother—those things not even filling the toes. “If I had been thinking, I could have bought gloves, scarves, socks—anything to fill them up.”
“I’m on my way. You and your dad figure out what you have in those bags that can fit—even if you have to take it out of packaging—and by the time I get to the store we can fill them up over the phone.”
Luke’s feet thundered down the stairs and moments later, the front door banged shut. Aggie stared at her father. “Oh, I’ve really blown it this time.”
“You know, you’ve been saying that a lot lately. Ever since Thanksgiving actually. I can’t decide if you are regretting your engagement or regretting agreeing to keep the kids.”
“Dad! I’m not regretting either.”
“Well, it sounds like you are to me, and if I hear it just the little I get to talk to you, what do you think the kids or Luke think of it?”
He had a point. Although Aggie didn’t want to admit it to herself or to him, her father made an excellent point. “Maybe that’s why Vannie seems to bend over backwards to help and Laird is so strange lately. Maybe that’s why Luke seems hesitant to step in or out of things. Maybe I just really am not cut out for this.” She sank to the floor and covered her head with her hands, her knees pulled up to her chest. “I won’t give up, but right now I want to.”
Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance) Page 12