by Mary Carter
Hope was going to physically go and find the waitress. Maybe pummel her. She felt like telling Brittany that right now drugs seemed like a great idea too. It was too bad Faith was so stingy with her Xanax. Not that it was working. Despite her best efforts, Faith was the poster girl for anxiety. Definitely having marital problems. And taking it out on all of them.
“You like sledding, right, Aunt Hope?” Brittany’s shining eyes were pinned on her. Faith glared at Hope even though she had yet to answer.
“I like sledding,” Hope said carefully. It was true. She did like sledding. How could you not like sledding? “But,” Hope said with a smile, “it’s always a good idea to eat kale before you go sledding.”
“Why?” Brittany asked.
“Cut it out,” Faith said to Hope.
“Mom, if I eat kale can I go sledding?” Brittany asked. Hope slid down in her seat.
“No.”
“But Aunt Hope—”
“If Aunt Hope had children she’d understand.”
Hope threw down her napkin. “I am so sick of you saying that to me.” Joy’s head jerked up. She smelled blood. Hope had always gotten the feeling that Joy loved it when Faith and Hope fought.
“It’s true,” Faith said, stabbing her fork into the table. “Fur babies don’t count.”
“I don’t call my pets my fur babies,” Hope said. “But I think I’m perfectly capable of stating that I don’t think it’s too dangerous for your children to sled down a freaking hill in the middle of a winter wonderland!”
A waitress finally slid up to the table, alarm stamped on her face. “Sounds like you guys are hungry.” She dumped a basket of bread on the table. Josh reached for it, but Faith grabbed the basket and handed it back to the waitress.
“We don’t want to spoil our appetite,” she said.
“Speak for yourself.” Joy grabbed the basket back and handed it to Harrison. “Want to spoil your appetite, baby?” she said.
He beamed. “I want to spoil you,” he answered.
Josh grabbed the basket out of Harrison’s hand and snatched a roll and butter, before throwing the basket back down and glaring at his mother. He picked up the butter knife. “Can I use this, Mother, or is this dangerous too?”
“Josh,” Faith said. Her voice came out in a choke. Hope saw tears come to her sister’s eyes. What was going on? Faith’s hand dropped to her purse, where she rummaged around, then discreetly (or so she thought) slipped something into her mouth. Another Xanax. How much of that stuff was Faith taking? She would have to get Faith to tell her exactly what was going on. The table fell into an uneasy silence that continued until the waitress came back to take their order.
Everyone managed to place their order, including Hope, who changed her order to a chef salad because she didn’t want to eat a cheeseburger and fries in front of Brittany and Josh. Maybe she’d come back later by herself and satisfy the craving.
“You caved,” Joy said, sounding gleeful.
“What?” Hope said.
“You still let Faithy boss you around.”
“I didn’t tell her what to do,” Faith said.
“I’m taking the higher road,” Hope said.
“By switching from cow to pork?” Joy said.
“What?” Hope said.
“Chef salad has ham, and eggs, and bacon.”
“And here I meant to order green eggs and ham,” Hope said.
Josh laughed. “Good one, Aunt Hope.”
Joy shook her head. “Do you know how smart pigs are?”
“Pigs wallow in muck,” Josh said, stressing the word muck, as if Faith had already forbidden him to say the other word.
“They have the intelligence of a three-year-old,” Joy said.
“What about turkeys?” Brittany asked with alarm.
“Dumb as doornails,” Hope said to her with a wink. She meant it as a joke. Brittany nodded solemnly.
“So smart animals deserve to live, but dumb animals deserve to die?” Joy said. “So, Hope. Maybe all your ways of signaling to me that I wasn’t smart was really just your repressed desire that I was dead.”
“Joy!” Hope said. This was going beyond an argument. Joy was pathological. “You know that’s preposterous!”
“Do I?” Joy said.
“You’d better,” Hope said. “I’m not going to sit here and take this.”
“So how much do you think the property is worth?” Joy asked.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Hope said.
“You and Faith were already discussing it behind my back. You want to keep the property and turn it into some year-round Christmas celebration!”
“Oh my God,” Hope said. “Did you even take a shower?”
“We weren’t making any decisions,” Faith said. “We were just discussing the possibility.”
“I’m not changing my mind,” Joy said.
“We’re here to celebrate Christmas with our grandmother,” Hope said. “Right now it doesn’t belong to us. It’s her home.”
“We’re not here to celebrate Christmas with her because she doesn’t want to celebrate Christmas, remember?” Joy said. Brittany, once again, looked traumatized. The poor kid. Why was her family so dysfunctional?
They fell into a surly silence and finally the waitress came with the food. Her chef salad was slammed down in front of her. Thick slabs of ham stared at her. “Disgusting,” Joy said.
“Funny,” Hope said. “I was just thinking the same thing.” She dropped her napkin on top of the plate. Hope didn’t want any of it now. Her sisters had officially ruined her appetite. Hope got up from the table, walked out the door, and just kept going.
CHAPTER 17
The air had turned bitter (just like them) and the snow was coming down sideways. Hope was no longer in the mood to Christmas shop. Maybe not celebrating was the way to go. It would certainly save her a lot of money. It was going to be a long walk back to the estate, but she didn’t have any other choice. She certainly wasn’t going to return to the restaurant with her tail between her legs. Maybe she’d go back to the cabin and pack her bags. Why go to all this trouble for people who didn’t want to be around you in the first place? She was just buying into the hype. Family is everything. You have nothing if you don’t have family. But what if your family hated you? What if they were all crazy?
Well, she’d tried. She’d much rather be in the shelter with dogs. She couldn’t wait to see Mr. Jingles. She wished she’d videotaped him slamming Faith to the ground. He’d earned his keep with that little good deed. Maybe he was all the family she needed. She would go back to Portland, buy Mr. Jingles a Christmas sweater, and watch It’s a Wonderful Life while drinking candy cane martinis.
Just then a horn beeped. A truck rumbled beside her. Hope knew it was Austin without looking; his pickup had a distinctive hum. “What are you doing?” he called out. The sound of his voice was a welcome relief.
“What does it look like?” Hope gave him a pained smile.
Austin glanced up the hill. “Glutton for punishment.”
“It will be good for me.”
“That’s the glutton part.” He idled a second. “Are you going to get in or what?”
“Fine,” Hope said. Thank God. She didn’t really want to walk, and she wanted to see Austin one more time before she left. He smiled as Hope came around to the passenger side and got in. He hummed as he started back up. “The sooner I get back and pack, the sooner I can get out of here.”
He shifted and the truck lurched forward. “What happened?”
“This was a huge mistake.” He was wearing cologne. Not too much like some men poured on, but just the right amount. The amount that made you want to get a lot closer to the person wearing it. Now that she saw him again she realized that the sweater from town would look great on him. The navy would really complement his brooding eyes. If only she was staying.
“Tomorrow is a new day,” Austin said.
“And I’ll be ba
ck in Portland.”
“What about your grandmother?”
“She’s trying to manipulate us.”
“How do you figure that?”
“No Christmas. Whosoever follows my rules will inherit the estate.”
“She said that?”
“She did, indeed. Joy has fallen for every inch of it. My younger sister now sees me as an opponent to eliminate. And don’t even get me started on Faith.”
Austin nodded, and Hope looked out the window. The snow was piling up now, blanketing the roads and the grounds and the trees. “It’s so beautiful,” Hope said.
“We’re going to get a big one.”
“How far is the closest airport?”
“It’s easier to drive. You should wait a few days.”
“How far is the nearest car rental?”
Austin sighed. “You won’t make it far with what they’re expecting.”
“Then you can take me to a hotel.” Austin pulled into the estate. He rolled down the window and leaned down to punch in the code.
“I finally see your grandmother in you,” he said as they waited for the gate to open.
“How so?”
“You’re stubborn mules, the pair of you.”
“You would be stubborn, too, if you had to survive in this family.”
“I had a brother.”
Had. Past tense. Austin’s voice was low and filled with pain. “What happened?”
“He’s no longer with us.”
“I’m so sorry.” Hope wanted to ask a million questions, but it was obvious by his clipped answer and pained expression that he was only opening up a little to help her. Whatever had happened to his brother he did not want to talk about it.
“Don’t give up on them,” he said. “No matter what.”
“Okay.” She wanted to touch him, take his pain away.
“How’s your niece and nephew?” Neither of them seemed in a hurry to get out of the truck. With the snow falling, the heater still running, and Christmas carols playing gently in the background, Hope could stay in here with Austin forever.
“Brittany is a doll. The only one who loves me.”
“I very much doubt that. What about the boy?”
“He’s a bit surly. You know teenagers.”
“He reminds me of my brother.”
Maybe he was moving toward talking about what happened. Hope kept her voice light. “In what way?”
“Surly.” Austin gave a small smile.
Hope waited, but he didn’t say anything else about it. Maybe it would help if she opened up first. “Yvette said our father died a long time ago. In a car accident.”
Austin’s head snapped toward her. “A car accident?”
“Yes. What?”
“Nothing.”
“That wasn’t nothing. Tell me.”
“It made me think of Roger.”
Hope was suddenly on high alert. “What made you think of Roger?”
“I confronted Yvette recently about him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I didn’t like the thought that he might be scamming her in some way. Trying to get her money when she dies.”
“You also thought something might be wrong with him.”
“She said he has TBI—traumatic brain injury.”
“Okay.”
“From a car accident he was in a long time ago.”
Hope tried to process that. Had he been friends with her father? Were they in the same accident? If so, Yvette had been lying about him coming to see them for Christmas. “A drunk driving accident?”
“What makes you ask that?” Austin’s piercing eyes were suddenly on her. He had this way of making her feel as if she was the most important person in the world. Maybe that was a skill he’d picked up from his job.
“My father drank. Mom was always warning him he was going to get killed. And take us with him.”
“I’m sorry,” Austin said. He was a really good man. A man, it seemed, who had a lot of secrets of his own. Something kept him all to himself up here. She wondered what it was.
“Yvette said our father was on his way to see us the night he died. Maybe Roger and my father were in the same accident.”
“So you think he was bringing Roger along to come see you?”
“No, I think maybe he wasn’t coming to see us at all. I think maybe he was drinking and driving with his friend Roger instead.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, I’m glad you did.”
“Why?”
“I used to want the fantasy. Comfort myself by imagining our father still loved us. That there was a reasonable explanation for him disappearing from our lives. Tearing us apart.”
“And now?” Austin asked softly.
“Now I just want the truth.”
“Does it make a difference?”
“Of course. How can you even ask?”
“I’m just saying. No matter what he did or didn’t do, it doesn’t mean he didn’t love you girls.”
Hope wanted to say that it meant exactly that. But she couldn’t. Because she remembered how much he loved them. More, Hope thought, than anyone had ever loved her or maybe ever would. Even so. It hadn’t been enough. She wanted to stay in the truck forever, but definitely wanted to change the subject. “Do you have to work today?”
“Just returning.”
“Did it go okay?” Hope didn’t want too many details, but she wanted him to know she was interested in his life.
Austin nodded. “We’re pretty busy this time of year.”
“It sounds like a pretty stressful job.” And sad.
“It can be,” Austin said. “It can also be uplifting.”
“How did you get into it?”
“These sound like the kind of questions you ask on a date.” Austin’s eyes slid to her; then he looked away with a smile.
Hope felt emboldened. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
Austin got out of the truck. Hope did too. He glanced at the mountains. “Not if you’re leaving.”
Hope stood and stared at him for a moment. Of course she didn’t want to leave. But she also didn’t want to face her sisters again. Why couldn’t they just get along? “If I pack now would you take me to a motel?”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“I can’t stay. I won’t let these people ruin my Christmas.”
“If that’s what you want.”
“Thank you.” Hope ran toward the house. She spotted Roger, standing closer than he’d ever been, about ten feet away. He had a startled look on his face. Did he hear her tell Austin she was leaving? What did he care? He waved at her. Hope felt a pang of sadness. She waved back. “I’ll be packed in two seconds,” she called. She looked at Roger. “Have you seen Mr. Jingles?” she yelled. He just stared. “My dog?” She glanced at Austin.
“I’ll look for him,” Austin said. The snow was still coming down. Hope knew she was being dramatic, should probably just make peace and stay. But the other part of her wanted to flee. She was tired of not being appreciated. The middle child. Joy got to be wild and throw fits, and Faith got to boss everyone around. And Hope? She was just stuck. The middle sucked and everybody knew it. How many people actually liked the middle seat in airplanes? Nobody. That’s who. Because the middle sucked. She stormed into the house. Her grandmother was standing at the window watching Roger.
“Roger is standing really close to the house,” Hope said. “He waved at me.”
Yvette turned around. “He likes you.” Yvette offered a small smile. Was he in the car with my father? Is that what you’re hiding? “Where is the rest of your gang? We’re getting a big storm.”
Tell her. Tell her you’re leaving. “They’ll be here any minute.” Right? Hope fumbled in her purse for her phone. Should she call Faith, tell her to come home now? She’d pack first and do it when she came down. Yvette turned back to the window and Hope hurried up the stairs. God, this h
ouse was beautiful. She ran into her room, the smallest room, even though she was here first—and began throwing clothes into the duffel bag she’d brought. It didn’t take long. She scooped up her things from the bathroom and upended them into the bag. She ran downstairs. She would throw her bag in the truck first and then say her good-byes.
She snuck out to the porch. But just as she headed to the truck, she caught sight of Roger. He was standing in the side yard with three boxes around him. He headed back to the barn. Hope heard Yvette scream; then her grandmother flew out on the porch, nearly knocking her down. “Roger! Roger!” Yvette cried, hurtling herself down the stairs and across the field. Hope was stunned. She didn’t know a dying old lady could move that fast. Austin came around the corner followed by Mr. Jingles. Mr. Jingles made a beeline for Hope and lunged. He planted his large paws on her chest and almost knocked her down. “Roger! Roger!” Yvette cried again. By the time Hope made it to her grandmother’s side, her grandmother was standing by the boxes, staring down at them. Tears were streaming down her grandmother’s face.
“What’s wrong?” Hope’s heart hammered in her chest.
Her grandmother reached in the box and lifted out a string of Christmas lights. “He wants to decorate,” she whispered.
“Oh,” Hope said. She screamed because of that? Hope almost had a heart attack.
“Quick,” Yvette said. “Get the nutcrackers.”
“What?”
“Put them on the porch.”
“Why?”
Yvette whirled around and grasped Hope’s hands. She had a vise-like grip. “It’s because you girls are here.” Yvette let go of Hope and clasped her hands under her chin as if praying. Her eyes were shiny with tears.
Hope rubbed her hands, hoping to get the circulation back. “How do you know?”
“He’s never done this before.” Roger came out dragging what appeared to be a sleigh.
“Good God,” Yvette said.
“Are you going to stop him?” Hope said. She didn’t want Yvette to stop him, but she was curious. Yvette seemed to like Roger better than she liked her granddaughters. Austin hurried over to help Roger with the sleigh. Yvette began digging through the box, removing strings of lights and setting them on the ground.
“You should get your coat on,” Hope said.