by Mary Carter
“That’s it. Go to your room.”
“I don’t have a room.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I really don’t know what you mean. I mean, you could be acting right now. Are you? Am I in the middle of another trashy soap opera?”
Faith stood. “You apologize to me at once.”
“No.”
“You’re grounded.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
“That’s double for swearing.”
“I don’t care.”
“I’ll make you care.”
“How?”
“Don’t push me, Josh. Not in front of all these people.”
“You’re a hypocrite.”
“How did I raise such an ungrateful child?”
“Ungrateful? You bet I am. You’re a liar. You’re a cheater. You’re cheating on Dad!”
Brittany wailed. She slapped her hands over her ears. “It’s not true, right, Mom? It’s not!”
Hope froze in horror, although it was somewhat of a relief that they were done pretending. God, this was a mess. How were they supposed to have a happy Christmas now? Should they even try?
“Cheated?” Yvette said.
“She has a lover,” Josh said. “Charlie.”
“Stop, stop,” Brittany said. She commandeered Josh’s plate of pancakes and began shoveling them into her mouth.
“Let’s talk about this in private,” Faith said, her voice cracking and quivering.
“Save it.” Josh got up from the table and walked toward the coats hanging by the front door.
“We’ll talk about this,” Faith called after him.
“Not if I can help it,” Josh said. “I’m calling Dad to come get us.”
Fat tears rolled down Faith’s face. Hope reached over and took her hand. A second later Joy’s hand snuck over and she laid hers on top of the pile. It was a nice moment. For a moment.
“I expected more of you girls,” Yvette said. She got up from the table, entered the kitchen area, and removed a bottle of whiskey from the shelf. That’s where Dad got it, Hope thought.
“Why?” Joy said.
Yvette drank straight from the bottle. She slammed it down and looked at Joy. “Why what?”
“Why would you expect more? You thought our mother was trash, and we didn’t have a father.”
“You certainly had a father. A very good one.”
“A drunk one. One who abandoned us.”
“How dare you.”
“You certainly didn’t come looking for us, did you? And now you’re using this stupid house to force us to all be together so that we’ll get it when you die. Screw that.” Joy threw her napkin on the table and stood. She started to stomp off. She stopped after a few steps and turned to Harrison, who was humming and eating his pancakes.
“Hey,” Joy said. “You’re supposed to stomp off with me.”
“These are really good,” Harrison said. “Can’t I finish?”
“Since there’s not going to be any real love between us,” Yvette said, standing up herself, “we might as well go over the other rules.” She got up from the table and headed down the hall toward her bedroom.
“Are we supposed to follow you?” Hope called after her.
“No, I’m going to change and then the four of us are going to visit your father’s grave.” The girls stood, wide-eyed and silent for a full minute after Yvette disappeared down the hallway.
“Did she say?” Faith said. All heads turned to Hope.
“Yeah,” Hope said. “She said that.”
* * *
They ventured out into the thick of the woods where a canopy of trees formed a little circle below. A beautiful spot to spread his ashes. Hope approved. She could think of worse places than being surrounded by this vista. The grave was outlined in baseball-sized rocks and topped off with a wooden cross. The four of them stood looking down. Roger lingered in the background, watching them.
“I thought you said he didn’t have a grave,” Joy said.
“I didn’t think you needed to see this,” Yvette said.
“What changed your mind?” Joy persisted.
“All of your arguing,” Yvette said. “You girls need closure.”
Hope sucked in her breath. Daddy. She wanted to lay her body on top of the grave and hug it. She shoved her hands in her pockets and wondered why her grandmother hadn’t invested in a real headstone. She would look into ordering one. It could be from the three of them.
“Why doesn’t he have a real headstone?” Joy said. Oh, holy night! There went Joy again, reading Hope’s thoughts and speaking them out loud. She wanted to rail against Joy for doing it, but she probably didn’t actually have a leg to stand on with that one.
Faith kneeled down and brushed leaves off the makeshift cross. “His name isn’t even on the cross,” she said.
“Your father was a simple man,” Yvette said. “And a proud one. I’m doing everything according to his wishes.”
“We could have a headstone made,” Hope said. “From us. For Christmas.”
“Nothing says Merry Christmas like a new tombstone,” Faith said.
“Don’t make light of this,” Hope said. “I want to do that for him. I want him remembered.”
“He loved Christmas, right?” Joy said.
“Our names prove it,” Faith said.
“That’s what we should put on his headstone,” Joy said. “Faith, Joy, and Hope.”
“I think he’d like that,” Hope said.
“We’ll come out here on Christmas morning and sing Christmas carols to him,” Faith said.
“I always thought we’d see him again.” Hope took a deep breath and turned her face to the sky.
“He lives on in each of you,” Yvette said.
“I want to be cremated,” Joy said.
“Gladly,” Faith said under her breath. Hope pinched her.
“You said there were other rules,” Faith said, turning to Yvette.
Yvette nodded. “This property is not to be sold as long as Roger is still alive.”
“Roger?” Faith said, glancing over her shoulder and lowering her voice. “Why?”
“He could live a long time,” Joy said.
“I hope he does,” Yvette said. “I hope he lives a very long time.”
“You’re saying we can’t sell the property until he dies?” Joy persisted.
“He’s going to live out the rest of his life on this property,” Yvette said. “I’d also like one of you to live here. He needs looking after.”
The girls exchanged looks.
“What about my coffee shop?” Joy said. “I need start-up money.”
“Please,” Hope said. “Can we agree not to argue in front of our father’s grave?”
Joy had the decency to look slightly ashamed. She stopped talking and nodded.
“We’ll go to town and continue our conversation,” Yvette said. “I know a good pub.”
“It’s not even nine o’clock in the morning,” Hope said.
“That’s what makes it good,” Yvette said. She trudged forward and the rest followed. Hope wondered if it was such a good idea, given their current states, to get a few drinks in them.
“I can’t just leave the kids here,” Faith said.
“I’ll watch.” It was a gruff male voice and it came from several feet away. They turned to find Roger standing still, staring at them. They all stopped and stared at him.
“Wonderful, Roger,” Yvette said. “Wonderful.” Yvette clasped her hands by her mouth. She was smiling. Hope couldn’t tell if she was applauding the fact that he had spoken or actually agreeing to the suggestion that he was fit enough to watch the kids.
“Why don’t we call Austin?” Faith said, her voice cracking. “He could watch them.”
“Roger just volunteered,” Yvette hissed. “Don’t hurt his feelings.”
“Harrison can watch them,” Joy said. “Unless you have a problem with him?”
“You’re hurting his feelings,” Yvette said. Her voice shook with anger. Hope looked at Roger, who was indeed staring at the ground and pawing at it.
Hope slowly approached. “Did we hurt your feelings?” Roger continued to stare at the ground. “We didn’t mean to. I trust you.”
“They’re my kids,” Faith said.
“You have to understand. We just met you. You don’t talk very much. It’s not personal.” Hope stared at the top of his red cap. She wasn’t sure whether he understood or not. “Were you friends with my father?” Roger lifted his eyes, made eye contact, then slowly shook his head no. Hope took a step back.
“He was, he was,” Yvette said. “Leave him be now. You’re confusing him.” Roger continued to look at Hope and shake his head no.
“What about Harrison?” Joy barked again.
“I’ll watch,” Roger said.
“Let him do it,” Yvette said. “He can do it.”
Faith smiled at Roger, then turned and lowered her voice. “I’ll decide who watches my kids.” She threw her arms open.
“Roger and Harrison. You’ll make a great team.” Roger stared at Faith. For a minute Hope thought he was going to speak again. Instead he just nodded.
“I’ll go tell Harrison,” Joy said. Faith’s cell phone rang. She glanced at the screen and a blush spread across her face. She answered and hurried away. Hope stood alone with her grandmother, Roger in the background. They fell into an awkward silence. And so this is Christmas.
CHAPTER 22
Austin was at the call center finishing up on paperwork when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the screen. It was a number he didn’t recognize. Could it be Josh?
“Hello?” There was a moment of silence. Austin lowered his voice and sank down into his cubicle. He cleared his throat and started again, treating it like the call came in through the switchboard. Hope must have given him the note. Josh might have confused which number to call. Austin took a chance and answered his cell the way he would have answered his work line. “Suicide Prevention. This is Austin. I’m glad you called.” There was another moment of silence.
“Why?” the caller said. It was a young male. Austin knew it was Josh. Hope had given him the note.
“Because you’re reaching out for help and that takes guts.”
“Whatever.”
Oh yes. Definitely Josh. “Are you feeling so bad that you’re thinking about suicide?”
“Maybe.”
“Have you thought about how you would do it?”
“It might just involve Christmas lights.”
Austin was glad to hear the sarcasm. That was actually a good sign. But he wasn’t going to laugh. He needed Josh to know that he took this very seriously. “You’re not alone. Christmas is a really tough time of year for a lot of people. I want to help you.”
“You’d want to kill yourself, too, if you had my family.”
Did Josh know he was talking to Austin, or did he think he’d called the main line? Austin would pretend it was anonymous unless and until Josh identified him. “What’s been going on?”
“How soon do you die if you fall through ice?”
“Are you near a body of water? Are you thinking about drowning yourself?” The pond. It would be frozen solid, so at least that was some relief.
There was a click and the line went dead. “Damn it,” Austin said under his breath. He stared at his cell phone hoping it would ring again. He knew Josh was in trouble. Something about the pained look in his eyes reminded him so much of his brother. Austin would have given anything if someone had recognized the warning signs in his brother and told him to pay attention.
What should he do now? He definitely didn’t want to say anything to Faith because she seemed like she could really tear into you given half a chance. He’d stop by Yvette’s place after work, see what was going on. Maybe he could get to know Josh a little bit more, see if he could get him to open up face-to-face. From what Austin could tell, Josh was in the early stages of pondering suicide. He still had time. If it got to a point where Austin felt like he had to break confidentiality to save Josh’s life, he would tell Hope what was going on. She could deal with her sister. At the thought of Hope, Austin’s heart beat a little faster. The more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to see her. He had to constantly remind himself that she wasn’t here because of him. He didn’t want to take the spotlight away from Yvette or Hope spending time with her sisters. But boy would he like to. Was there any chance that she would stay on after Yvette passed away? He hated the thought of Yvette passing away, and he hated the thought of Hope going away. They were both here now and that’s what he should focus on. That and helping Josh. Austin was done with his shift for today. He’d go straight to the estate. And he’d definitely check out the pond, make sure no one was in danger of falling through the ice.
* * *
The little tavern downtown was practically empty. Just a few old-timers lined the bar. The bartender smiled at Yvette and set them all up at a table. It was dim inside, and the few Christmas decorations that hung about the place made Hope feel sad. This was where Charlie Brown the grown man would have hung out. Soon after they were settled into a booth and their drinks had been delivered, they raised their pints. Faith had asked for a mimosa and was informed they had ale. Light and dark. They all ordered dark, which Hope hoped wasn’t a bad omen, and at the last minute she changed her order to sparkling water.
“Party pooper,” Joy said.
“To family,” Hope said, ignoring Joy and holding up her pint of water.
“To family,” they echoed with varying degrees of enthusiasm. They all raised their pints and clinked glasses. At least that was a bit of cheer. Just then something began rattling above them, and just as Hope was thinking, Earthquake! a whistle sounded. Hope looked up. A model train was chugging above them, the tracks running along the wall like crown molding. They all took a moment to watch it go by.
“Dad loved Christmas trains,” Faith said.
“I love trains too,” Joy said.
“Me too,” Hope said. The two of them looked at Faith.
“They’re charming,” Faith said.
“Would you look at that, it’s the United Nations,” Yvette said.
“You’re feisty, Granny,” Joy said. “I like that about you.”
Yvette actually smiled; then she looked at the girls. “I can see your father in each of you,” she said.
“Tell us everything you know about him,” Hope said.
“That’s a lot to tell,” Yvette said.
“What was he like as a boy?”
“He was spirited and adventurous. You couldn’t contain him. I had gone completely gray by the time he was three.”
“That sounds like our dad,” Faith said. A sad smile played at the corner of her lips.
“Where did you live? What was our grandfather like? Why didn’t you have other children?” Hope knew she was asking too many questions at once, but she felt an invisible timer ticking away and she wanted to know everything now. “Do you have photo albums?”
“Relax, Hope,” Joy said. “Can the rest of us at least get a buzz on first?”
“I have photo albums, of course,” Yvette said. “Your grandfather, Jeremiah, could be a very hard man. He left when Thomas was ten.”
“Is that why it was so easy for Dad to leave us?” Faith said.
Yvette slammed her fist on the table. “He did not leave you girls! You were kidnapped!” Several patrons looked over and the bartender shot the girls a warning look. Yvette was already so fragile, it pained Hope to see it. She immediately took Yvette’s hand.
“We don’t want to upset you,” Hope said.
Faith shook her head at Hope and plunged ahead with the interrogation. “If he was coming to see us—why was Roger in the car?” she asked.
Yvette shook her head. “He was coming to see you. He never would have let you girls go.”
“Why was Roger in the car?” Fai
th repeated.
“It’s a long drive to Florida. Maybe he just wanted the company.”
“Was our father drunk when the accident occurred?” Hope had to ask the question. Yvette pulled her hand back.
“You keep asking that!”
“Because you’ve never answered.”
“I don’t know. Back then they didn’t make a fuss over things like that.”
“You’re saying they didn’t check?” Faith asked.
Yvette rolled a napkin between her fingers. “He died. That was punishment enough.”
“He hurt Roger,” Joy pointed out.
Yvette’s chin jutted up. A look of fierce pride crossed her face. “I’ve done right by Roger. I’ve done right by him.”
Hope hadn’t wanted to escalate the conversation to this stage this fast. She had wanted to hear happier memories of her father. She tried to steer the conversation back to safer subjects. “He must have had good Christmases growing up.”
“We didn’t spoil him by any means,” Yvette said. “But he did always love it. He loved Christmas lights, and Christmas trees, and Christmas songs. He would just light up all throughout the season. And he was a generous boy too. He loved giving gifts more than receiving. One year I think he gave everyone he knew a gift. Even the mailman. He loved A Christmas Carol and later It’s a Wonderful Life.”
“We watched those with him,” Faith said.
“Over and over,” Hope said. “All year round. I loved his love of Christmas. And I loved that he would pick me up and swing me around a lot.”
Faith laughed. “Oh, I used to love when he did that. He was so strong.”
“And handsome,” Yvette said.
“Where did he grow up?” Hope asked.
“It’s a very small town, about an hour south of here,” Yvette said. “He moved to Seattle when he was only seventeen years old.”
“And that’s where he met our mother,” Faith said.
Yvette kept her lips clamped shut.
“They were so young,” Faith said.
“Women and girls were always throwing themselves at your father,” Yvette said. “I never expected him to marry so young.”
“So you hated her before you even met her,” Faith said.
“I have my prejudices. I’ll admit it. He was my only son. He was my everything. But it’s all in the past. Can’t I enjoy my last days on earth with my three beautiful granddaughters?”