by Mary Carter
Josh rolled his eyes. “Don’t be such a baby.” Brittany winced.
Hope grabbed Brittany’s hand and began jumping up and down too. “Christmas gives us license to act any age we want,” she said. She grinned and grabbed Josh’s hand. He shook his head, and finally a little smile escaped from his lips. Hope stopped jumping, laughed, and ruffled his hair. She headed for the cookie line. “Let’s also decorate one for Faith, and Joy, and Harrison.”
“Do you think they have any non-Christmas cookies for Great Grandma?” Brittany asked. She was taking on Hope’s old role: The Peacemaker.
It took all of Hope’s restraint not to reply: What’s so great about her? “Why don’t you go ahead and make her a Christmas one. I don’t think she’ll mind if it comes from you two.”
“Using us to force her to celebrate Christmas,” Josh said. “You’re diabolical, Aunt Hope.”
Hope laughed and hugged him. It was like hugging an irritated ironing board.
“Where’s Mom?” Brittany said, looking around.
“Probably making one of her phone calls,” Josh said.
There was something in his tone. Bitterness. He and Brittany exchanged a look. What did it mean? One of her phone calls. To Stephen? Someone else? She wanted to ask more, but Josh turned away. “I’m going to wait outside.” They were next in line.
“Please,” Hope said, hooking his arm and pulling him in. “Decorate this.” She grabbed a tree from the tray and shoved it at Josh. Next she nudged a bag of green icing toward him.
“You’re crazy,” he said. But he picked up a bag, hovered it over the cookie, and began to squeeze.
Brittany giggled and grabbed a reindeer from the tray.
“This is so much fun.” Hope picked up an ornament. Then two more. She would make three—Faith, Hope, and Joy. Surprise her sisters.
“You have to pay for those,” a nasal voice said from behind. Hope whirled around to see a surly girl with blond hair and an apron glaring at her.
“Before we decorate them?” Hope said.
“After,” the girl said.
“I was planning on it,” Hope said. “No such thing as a free cookie for Christmas, is there?”
“The first one is free. But you have three.”
“I said I’ll pay for them. They’re for my sisters.” Brittany’s head popped up when Hope’s voice grew a little sharp. She tried to smile. Why was she letting some clerk in a small-town shop get her all worked up? Why was everyone so grumpy about Christmas? It was one thing to reject commercialism and embrace the spirit instead, but where was the spirit? After she decorated her cookies and paid for the whole lot, she spied some reindeer antlers on a shelf and grabbed three. She put one on her head, then plopped one on Brittany and Josh. “I’ll pay for those too!” she said.
“Aunt Hope?” Brittany said.
Josh went to take his off.
“We’re celebrating,” Hope said. “We’re having fun.”
“I’ll wear two,” Brittany said, swiping up Josh’s antlers and putting them on her head.
“ ‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,’ ” Hope started to sing.
“You guys are weird,” Josh said. “I’m going outside.” He dropped his cookie on the counter.
Brittany’s hand snuck over and snatched it up. “I’ll finish it,” she said. They were almost out the door when Brittany tugged on Hope’s sleeve. Her face was somber.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Hope asked.
“I’m worried about Josh,” Brittany said. “He really is moody.”
Hope smiled. “All teenage boys are moody,” she said. “But it probably doesn’t help to keep pointing that out.”
“Okay,” Brittany said. “But he’s so different.”
Hope put her arm around Brittany and gave her a half hug. “Moodiness is in our genes,” she said. “It’s definitely in our genes.”
Josh wasn’t outside when Hope and Brittany emerged from making cookies. There was no sign of him or any of the others. They stood gazing at the people, and the lights, and the snow.
“It’s magical,” Brittany said. “I wish my dad was here.”
Me too, Hope thought about her own dad. She smiled at Brittany. “He’ll be joining us soon, won’t he?” Hope eyed her niece, ready to catch any shift of expression that might indicate trouble.
“Depends on work, I guess,” Brittany said with a shrug.
“I’m sure he’ll be here for Christmas,” Hope said.
“Nobody really wants to celebrate this year.”
“I do,” Hope said. “Don’t you?”
“I do,” Brittany said. Her eyes had a twinkle. Now that’s what Hope wanted. That was the spirit, right there. All these grownups so focused on themselves. Brittany would only get so many Christmases as a child.
“We’re already celebrating,” Hope said. “We just made cookies.”
“Not all of us.”
“Let’s find them. Eat cookies in front of them. Make them feel guilty.” Hope nudged Brittany and kept nudging until her niece laughed.
“Do you think Grandpa Garland would have liked me?” Brittany asked.
Hope stopped in her tracks. She’d been so focused on the fact that she’d lost out on a father she hadn’t even considered that they’d lost out on a grandfather. And her father would have adored them. She knew it beyond a doubt. “No,” Hope said. “I think he would have loved you to death.” Brittany beamed and then nodded. They turned into a shop with thick hand-knit sweaters displayed in the windows. An image of Austin flashed in her mind. He would look good in one of those. Not that she was going to buy a Christmas present for a man she barely knew. Although he had driven all the way to Portland to pick her up, hadn’t he? Of course she was going to get him a present. She tucked the sweater idea away.
“There they are,” Brittany said. Hope looked up to see Faith, Joy, Josh, and Harrison standing in front of the Winter Biergarten restaurant, looking around as if waiting for them. And the expressions on their faces were anything but festive. Brittany hurried up to them and Hope followed. Faith immediately threw her arms up in the air.
“Where have you been?”
“Looking for you guys,” Hope said.
“Josh said you were baking cookies.”
Brittany dug one out of her bag, stuck it in her mouth, and handed one to Hope with a wink. They bit into their cookie at the same time.
“You’ll spoil your lunch,” Faith said. She actually reached to take the cookie out of Brittany’s mouth.
Hope slapped Faith’s hand away, giving Brittany time to finish the cookie. “It was my idea. Since you weren’t there to make them with us we were going to tease you.”
“Real mature,” Faith said.
“Sorry, Mom,” Brittany said.
Hope couldn’t believe poor Brittany felt guilty about eating a cookie. They were on vacation. It was Christmas. Hope was going to kill Faith if she didn’t get into the spirit of things. “Why are you so angry? We were supposed to check out the shops and you disappeared. I’m the one who should be angry.”
“We decided we were going to eat first,” Faith said.
“When did we decide that?”
“In the car.”
“Brittany, Josh, and I didn’t know that.”
“Well, Joy and Harrison did.”
“No, they didn’t. They were making out on the street corner.”
“Do you have a problem with that?” Joy said.
“I don’t know,” Hope said. “Were you charging for it?” Harrison laughed, Joy glared.
“Can we just eat now?” Josh said.
“Selective hearing,” Faith said, opening the door to the restaurant and storming inside. Why on earth was she making such a big deal about this? Had she mentioned it in the car? Hope didn’t remember that. Would it be anti-Christmas of Hope to give her sister a beating with a pair of fake reindeer antlers?
CHAPTER 16
They were seated at a l
arge booth by the window, right next to a roaring fireplace topped with a giant wreath. Christmas lights were strung along the ceiling and carols played softly in the background. Outside, it began to snow again. Hope could stare at the flakes coming down forever. Nature was certainly a thing of beauty. After they had some food in their stomachs, and had relaxed, maybe they could focus on actually having a good time in this adorable village. “I’m getting a greasy cheeseburger and fries,” Hope announced. She glanced at Josh and Brittany. “How about you guys?” Their heads immediately snapped toward Faith. She shook her head. Brittany buried herself in the menu again, but Josh continued to stare at his mother.
“Why not?” Josh demanded.
Faith kept her voice calm. “It’s not good for you.”
“Aunt Hope is having one.”
“If she wants to pollute her body with toxins, I can’t stop her.”
“Hey,” Hope said. Since when was it a crime to have a cheeseburger and fries on holiday? Hope had a nice body and normally she ate very healthy. There was definitely something up with Faith.
“I’m vegetarian,” Joy said. She had a smug look on her face. Hope suddenly wished she hadn’t tried to get together with them at all. She wished Austin hadn’t come into the animal shelter that night. Deep-sea fishing with Michael would be better than this.
Liar. You like him. She did like him. She wondered where he was. What was he doing right now? Had he been thinking about her? Her sisters might be giant pains in the rear, but Austin was still here.
“You’re vegetarian?” Faith was saying. “Since when?”
“Since forever,” Joy said.
“You ate chicken the last time you were at my house,” Faith said.
“That was two years ago,” Joy said.
“Pardon me. I didn’t have the converter to tell me that two years equals forever. Oh, right. That’s because there isn’t one.”
“Guys,” Hope said. “Can we just all calm down?”
“I think everyone should stop participating in the butchering of innocent animals,” Joy said.
Brittany squeaked. A look of guilt was stamped on her face. Hope snuck her hand across the table and took Brittany’s. Unlike Faith, Brittany squeezed her hand back.
“We’re supposed to be having a nice lunch,” Hope said. “Not scarring children with our current political whims.” Hope knew it was a mistake the minute it was out of her mouth.
“Current political whims?” Joy gripped her fork and leaned toward Hope.
“Never mind,” Hope said. “Let’s just order.” She looked around. The service in this place was abysmal.
Joy let her fork clatter to the table. “You’ve never taken me seriously.”
Please don’t start, Joy, please don’t start. Hope was so tired of fighting. “It came out wrong. I’m sorry.”
But Joy was not satisfied. She turned to Faith. “I told you. I told you.”
Hope’s eyes darted to Faith. “Told me what?” Faith shot Hope a warning look and shook her head. Hope turned to Joy. “Out with it.”
“You really don’t remember?” Joy demanded. Hope shook her head. “That time you, me, and Mom had a meeting with my teacher? Well, you didn’t have the meeting and I probably wasn’t supposed to be there, but Mom couldn’t find a babysitter so she took us along.” Joy stopped and waited for Hope to validate.
Hope’s mind raced. Did she remember that? Meeting, teacher. Meeting, teacher. Nope. She had nothing. “When was this?” Hope asked.
“Oh my God,” Joy said. “I can’t believe you.”
“I just asked how old we were.” My God, she was livid. And Hope didn’t really remember.
“I was nine, so you were thirteen or fourteen,” Joy said.
“Thirteen,” Hope said. Joy was always acting like Hope was over four years older and she was almost exactly four years older.
“Do you remember now?” Joy picked up the fork again.
“No, so just tell me what I did.”
“The teacher said I was a bright girl if I would just focus and you said—‘She’s not bright, she just copies me!’ ” Joy stabbed the table with the fork and shot daggers at Hope.
Hope waited for more, waited for the bad thing that she’d supposedly said to come. Instead, Joy stared at her, fuming, as if she’d already said it. “That’s it?”
Joy threw up her arms. “You publicly belittled me!”
“Like sisters do,” Hope said. She glanced around the table with a smile. Harrison and Faith were suddenly buried in their smartphones, Brittany and Josh were staring openmouthed and eyes wide.
“You meant it. To this day you don’t think I’m smart.”
Hope couldn’t believe Joy was serious. She felt a pang of guilt. “I was joking. I was being sarcastic.”
“So you do remember it?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Then how do you know you were joking?”
“Because it’s not that big of a deal.”
“To you. It’s a huge deal to me.”
“Obviously.”
“You’re not even taking this seriously now.”
“Joy, listen to yourself. Faith? A little help here?”
Faith rearranged her silverware. “I’m not getting involved.”
“Right,” Hope said. “Because you weren’t there anyway.” A heavy silence descended like an axe.
“Why wasn’t she there?” Josh asked.
“Never mind,” Faith said.
“Don’t blame her,” Joy said. “This is between you and me.”
“Oh my God,” Hope said. “I was probably just trying to get attention.” Trying to survive without Faith. “I’m sorry if you think it was some diabolical plan to make you feel as if you weren’t bright.”
“You were telling the truth. You’ve never thought I was smart. You still don’t.”
“Oh my God,” Hope said. “Is this for real?”
Harrison and Faith nodded their heads. “You’re really that upset over this still?” Harrison and Faith continued to nod. Hope took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. I don’t remember saying that. I must have been jealous. Of course I think you’re smart. I think you’re so smart. And brave, and adventurous, and wacky. I love you, Joy. You’re my sister.”
“Wacky? You think I’m wacky?”
Joy used to be wacky. Wonderfully wacky. When she was four she ate popcorn with her feet. She could pick up kernels with her toes and bring it up to her mouth, ensuring she’d have the entire bowl to herself. And when scolded she used to give this incredible little laugh, a trill that pleased the ears and instantly made Hope forget whatever it was that warranted the scolding in the first place. The woman before her was not laughing. Hope was truly sorry now; just speaking the words and seeing Joy’s face crumple into tears filled her with spiky needles of guilt. Maybe she had bullied Joy a bit without realizing it. Maybe she had been jealous. But she definitely thought Joy was smart. Why had Joy buried this all these years? How could Hope pay for a crime she didn’t remember committing? “You’re my beautiful, sweet, smart, smart, smart baby sister,” Hope said, getting out of her seat and kneeling down by Joy. She hugged her knees. “Please forgive me.”
“Okay,” Joy said, sniffing loudly and wiping underneath her eyes. “So you believe I can make this coffee shop work, too, right?”
Oh God. Really? This? Hope gritted her teeth as she slid back into her seat. Joy was smart. She had just outfoxed Hope. Got her feeling guilty and literally groveling at Joy’s feet, and now Hope was going to be forced to publicly declare Joy’s coffee shop a great idea. And no doubt this was all going to come back to haunt her when they were arguing over whether or not to sell the property. Hope shot a look at Faith. Was she going to help her now?
“You should show her the plans,” Harrison said.
“Like they care,” Joy said.
“We’re not going to talk about your coffee shop right now,” Faith said. “I’m not sitting here talking shop,
am I? Hope, thank God, isn’t blathering on about dogs.”
“How could you talk shop?” Joy asked Faith.
Faith blinked. Her nostrils flared. “What?”
“You don’t have a job.”
“Being a stay-at-home mom is the hardest job in the world,” Faith said.
“Give it a rest. Oprah is over,” Joy said. Hope took her seat and looked around for the waitress.
“What should I get, Mom?” Brittany stared at the menu like it was written in Swahili.
“A turkey sandwich and soup,” Faith said.
Brittany’s face scrunched up. “Turkeys are animals.”
Faith glared at Joy. “You need to start watching what you say around my children.”
“I’m not a child,” Josh said. “And I still want a cheeseburger.”
“I have a right to state my beliefs.” Joy thrust her chin up.
“You don’t eat any meat at all?” Brittany asked.
“I’m trying to cut down on eating anything with a face,” Joy said.
“Except for me,” Harrison said. Joy laughed and nuzzled his neck.
Faith slammed her fist on the table, jiggling silverware and sloshing water. “Enough! You two think you’re so cute. You’re not. You’re totally transparent and immature.”
Hope raised an eyebrow. Faith normally kept her cool. Something was definitely going on in her personal life to make her so edgy. Hope had to at least try to restore order. “Why don’t we all order what we want, just this once, and also—maybe we should stop talking until after we’ve eaten. I think we might all be suffering from low blood sugar.”
“Now you’re telling us not to talk?” Joy said.
Faith piled on. “Who’s the bossy one now?”
Forgive me, Father Christmas. All I want this year is to beat my sisters to a pulp. Just once. But thoroughly. So that all they’ll wish for Christmas is their two front teeth. Hope scanned the restaurant. “Is it just me or is the waitress atrocious?”
“Can we talk, Mom?” Brittany asked.
“Of course,” Faith said.
“Can we go sledding?” Brittany asked.
“Asked and answered,” Faith said.
“But Aunt Hope thinks it’s a great idea.”