by S. M. Koz
I pull out my driver’s license and hand it to her. She glances down at the picture, up to my face, and back down to the picture. Then, she writes a few things on a clipboard and hands it to me. “Sign right here,” she says, pointing to a line. It has Hailey’s name, the date and time, and my name. I’m officially breaking her out of this place.
“You can have a seat while you wait,” she says, motioning to a couch that looks straight out of the seventies.
I sit down and study the Christmas tree against the window. It’s miniature compared to our tree, but I like it. It has homemade construction paper chains wrapped around it. There’s also popcorn garland and sculpted, painted clay ornaments. The one closest to me has the name Ryder on it, which makes me think everyone living here made one. I stand and walk around the tree, searching for Hailey’s. I recognize it before I even see her name. It’s a football with seventy-three, my number, on it. I smile and lift it off.
“Brad,” I hear from behind me.
“Hailey,” I say, rushing toward her. I pull her in for a long hug, holding her tightly as though my touch will erase the last few days. She relaxes in my arms and sighs, letting me know she’s missed me as much as I’ve missed her. I kiss the top of her head and smile into her hair. She’s finally back where she belongs. “Ready to go home?” I ask.
“You have no idea.”
I drop one arm, but keep the other around her waist. Now that she’s back, I have no intention of ever letting go. To hell with us being foster siblings and the ridiculous ruse that we don’t mean more to each other. If Sherry has an issue with this, I’ll gladly have it out with her and the rest of DSS. Even the judge, if I have to.
I hold out the ornament in my free hand. “Can I keep this?”
“Sure. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too.” I kiss the top of her head again, then take her bag from her. She has much more stuff now than she did the first time she moved into our house. Thank God. She can never go back to that life.
“You need to officially get over your aversion to gifts today, okay?” I say, walking toward the front desk. “Mom and Dad tend to spoil their kids.”
“I’m not their kid.”
“You’re my girlfriend, so they’d treat you like their daughter even if they weren’t your foster parents.”
“Girlfriend?” she asks, stopping and facing me. Her face lights up like I just gave her the best Christmas present in the world.
“Yeah. You knew that, right?”
“Well, you’ve never said it before.”
I brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear and let my hand linger on her cheek a little longer than necessary. “If I want to spend every moment of the day with you, then you’re my girlfriend.”
Her smile widens. “It’s nice to hear you say that, especially after everything that happened.”
“I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“It’s okay,” she replies with a shrug. This time, she holds my eyes the entire time, so I think she’s telling the truth. We’re extremely lucky if she’s already forgiven us for our shitty behavior.
“You should blame me. I was a terrible boyfriend.”
“Well, I can think of a few ways you can show me what a good boyfriend you are.” She bites her bottom lip, teasing me.
“Would any of those ways involve some kissing?” I ask, leaning close and whispering in her ear.
“Possibly.”
“And very little clothes?”
“Maybe.”
“This is going to be the best Christmas ever,” I murmur, brushing my lips over her neck. I take a deep breath and start us back to the door. We need to get out of here and into the privacy of my car ASAP.
“Thanks for everything, Ellen,” she says, stopping at the front desk.
“Anytime. You take care of yourself, Hailey. Graduate. Stay out of trouble. If you ever need help, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks,” she says with a nod. She signs her name on the clipboard and then we finally head home together.
Chapter 39
HAILEY
“You’re home!” Gigi yells, engulfing me in a monster hug. “I’ve missed you so much. I’m so sorry we didn’t trust you.”
“It’s okay,” I mumble. According to Brittany, I can’t blame them too much. It’s the foster kid thing—I’ll always be guilty until proven innocent. At least they finally came around.
“Hailey, welcome back,” Gil says. He wraps his arms around both me and Gigi. “We owe you a big apology.”
“No, you don’t,” I murmur against his shoulder.
“Yes, we do. We were upset and jumped to conclusions. We weren’t fair to you. We would’ve never treated Brad that way, so we shouldn’t have treated you that way.”
“So, next time I can expect you to ignore me for two months?” I ask with smile.
“Ahh … touché,” he replies, letting go of me. “No, I learned my lesson on that one, too. From now on, we’ll trust our children and treat them like the adults they practically are.”
“What smells so good?” Brad asks, opening the oven.
“Cinnamon rolls,” Gigi replies. “I couldn’t sleep this morning, so I decided to bake. I’ve also got shortbread cookies and gingerbread men cooling. Do you want to eat or open presents first?”
“Hailey?” he asks.
“Definitely eat. I’ve missed your food. I had plenty to eat there, but it didn’t compare to your cooking.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” she gushes, hugging me again. “Do you want something else? I can make pancakes. Or waffles. Or omelets. Do you want an omelet? I’ve got ham and cheese, your favorite. I can whip that up for you real quick.”
I laugh at her over-eager attitude. I bet she feels horrible for what happened and is trying to apologize through food. It’s actually really sweet. “I’d love a cinnamon roll.”
I help Brad set the table while Gigi pulls the rolls out of the oven and ices them. Gil makes coffee and collects the orange juice from the fridge. It’s like every other morning. We’re back to our normal routine, as if nothing happened. As if their house wasn’t completely ransacked by my crooked ex-boyfriend and the crazy mother of Brad’s child.
The wonderful sense of normalcy lasts through breakfast and into our gift exchange.
“This is for you from me,” Brad says, pulling a messily wrapped gift out from under the tree. The original tree and most of the ornaments were destroyed during the break-in, but this looks almost exactly the same. Just as big and just as beautiful.
“How’d you get a new tree up so fast?” I ask, accepting the package.
“I made it a priority,” Gil says, patting Gigi on the knee. She smiles at him and I get a glimpse of what it would be like to be married to Brad for thirty years. I know it’s way too soon to be thinking about marriage, but there’s something reassuring about having a boyfriend who is potential husband material. I can’t believe Chase used to make me feel loved. The feelings I had for him were only a fraction of what I feel for Brad.
I unwrap the gift and smile at the blue fleece in the box. It’s the one I admired months ago. “It’s gorgeous,” I say, holding it up.
“It’s the one you liked at the mall, the first time we went.”
“I remember. When did you go back and get it?”
“I bought it that day and have just been waiting for an excuse to give it to you.”
“Thank you,” I say, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “I love it even more today than I did back then.” I stand, pull it over my shirt, and model it for the others.
“It looks great,” Gigi says, nodding in approval. “The color matches Brad’s eyes.”
I look between the fleece and Brad. She’s totally right. Maybe that’s why I was so drawn to it back then.
The rest of the morning speeds by. Gil bought Gigi a new diamond necklace and earrings to match a set that Chase stole. She got him tickets to the Super Bowl. Brad got his parents
sweatshirts that read Duke Mom and Duke Dad. They got him a bunch of little gifts, but the big one was an air hockey table for the basement.
I feel bad because my gifts pale in comparison. But, really, what do you get people who have everything? I went with singing lessons for Gil, a stain glass class for Gigi, and ten date coupons for Brad, which he can redeem whenever he wants. I didn’t even have a chance to wrap anything. I guess I should just be happy that Chase didn’t destroy them when he was in my room.
They all got me too much stuff. In addition to the fleece, Brad gave me a necklace I loved in Grand Cayman. I have no idea how he pulled that off since we were together the entire time. Gil and Gigi gave me a lot of clothes and gift cards, but the main gift was a Spring Break trip of my choice for me and a companion.
“Who’s my companion?” I ask.
“Whoever you want,” Gigi replies, her smile lighting up her face. She’s been overjoyed this entire morning. She simply loves making her family happy.
“Whoever?”
“Yes.”
“I can go anywhere I want and take anyone I want with me?”
“Sure. Just read the small print on the paper. DSS won’t allow us to send you someplace by yourself so Gil and I will have to chaperone, but we’ll give you your space.”
“Who will you take?” Brad asks, hugging his knees to his chest.
“Hmm … that’s a tough question. Michelle’s having a rough year. Maybe she’d like to relax on a beach somewhere.”
He rolls his eyes.
“Or maybe Brittany. She’s been really supportive the last few days. I could thank her with a fun trip.”
“That would be very nice of you.”
“Is there anyone else I should consider?”
“I can think of one other person,” Brad says, shoving wrapping paper out of the way and sliding next to me until our legs are touching.
“Okay, let’s give the kids a little alone time,” Gigi says, standing up. “I need help with lunch anyway, Gil.”
When they leave, Brad leans over and kisses my cheek. “I promise you’d have more fun with me on Spring Break than Brittany.”
“Really? She’s pretty fun,” I reply, turning to face him.
“She is, I’ll give you that, but will you want to stare at her half-naked body on the beach?”
My mouth drops open. He knew about my gawking during the cruise? I thought I was so secretive. “What makes you think I want to stare at somebody on the beach?” I reply, trying to play it cool.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you stared at me nonstop on the beaches of Jamaica, Grand Cayman, and Honduras?”
“You were sleeping and I had my sunglasses on. You have no idea what I was doing.”
“I know exactly what you were doing,” he says, reaching for my hand. He rubs his thumb along my skin and then whispers in my ear, “Because I was doing the same thing.”
I laugh and shake my head at our ridiculousness. We’re two hormone-raging teens who can’t get enough of each other. It’s a fun place to be and I hope this feeling lasts for as long as we’re together. “You’re just too hot for your own good,” I explain to rationalize my behavior.
“Ditto. So, you’ll take me?”
“I’ll think about it,” I reply with a smirk. Of course I’ll take him. He totally knows that.
The rest of day is like a dream. We all talk, laugh, play games, and eat too much delicious food. It’s what I always envisioned a family should be like. I’m so incredibly grateful I’m part of their family and able to celebrate Christmas with them. No matter what happens, I’ll always have this one perfect day to hold on to. This one perfect day that reminds me of what life should be. This one perfect day that shows me what I should strive to achieve, eventually, with my own family.
Well past midnight, Brad and I snuggle on the sofa in the basement, kind of watching A Christmas Story, but mostly kissing and heading into the realm of checkers, when something pounds on the sliding glass door. It sounds as if the entire thing will shatter from the force. Both Brad and I jump, startled by the racket and the invasion of our privacy. Brad stands in front of me and tosses me my shirt. I throw it over my head and then stay close behind him.
He flips the switch by the door and two figures are flooded in light.
Chase and my mom.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Brad asks, glaring at the glass. “And who’s with him?”
“My mom. I—I think they’re here for me.” I had no idea he’d get out so soon. What kind of judge works on Christmas? I was planning on telling Brad about the deal I struck with the devil tomorrow, but, obviously, that’s too late.
“You? Why would they be here for you?”
“I owe my mom $950 and kind of agreed I’d get back together with Chase.”
“You what?” he asks, turning his glare from Chase to me.
“In jail. I told him if he’d return the Monet, I’d get back together with him.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I thought it was the only way your parents would forgive me! At the time, I didn’t know you’d bring me back today and everything would be like it used to be.”
His jaw clenches, then he asks, “Why do you owe your mom money?”
“She told me where Chase was hiding in exchange for a thousand dollars. I only had fifty on me at the time.”
“So, you were the person who gave the cops the lead?”
“Yes.”
“Let me in the fucking door, Hales!” Chase yells, pounding again.
“As I see it, we have two options,” Brad says, letting out a sigh. “I go outside and beat the living shit out of him or we completely ignore him, go upstairs, and call the cops to come collect the trespassers in our backyard.”
He cracks his knuckles, letting me know which one he’d prefer.
“Option number two, I think.”
“Are you sure? I’d love to pummel that cocky little prick.”
“I know you would, but no.” I’m tired of the drama. I want Chase to disappear, so we can put all of this behind us.
He sighs, then turns off the light. Putting his arm around my shoulders, he leads me to the stairs. “You keep my life interesting, you know that?”
“He just needs to be locked away.”
When we get to the top, the silence is broken by the most earth-shattering crash I’ve ever heard. It’s like the heavens have rained down a massive truck load of crystal glasses onto the tile floor. That sound is quickly followed by the piercing siren of the alarm system.
“Looks like I get to pummel him after all,” Brad says before turning around and rushing back downstairs.
Chapter 40
HAILEY
I follow Brad, right on his heels. The basement looks pretty much as expected based on the sounds we heard. The sliding door is open to the night air other than small jagged pieces of glass lining the frame. The rest of the glass, pieces ranging in size from a pea to the size of my palm, are littered across the ground and crunch under our feet as we approach Chase and my mom. A patio chair lies on its side in the corner, and has to be what Chase used to get inside.
“Get the fuck out of my house!” Brad yells, puffing up his chest and making himself look even bigger than he is.
“Give me Hales and I’ll leave.”
“Where’s my money?” my mom asks, ignoring Chase and Brad. “You owe me!”
“I don’t have it.”
“He does,” she says, pointing at Brad.
“You’re not getting any more money. You’ll just waste it on drugs and booze!” I shout to be heard over the alarm that continues to blare.
“You little bitch!” she yells, reaching for my hair. I spin around and put the sofa between us. She jumps on the cushions and strikes out at me.
I hold up my hand and deflect her blow with my forearm. Before she can try again, I glance at Brad and Chase. They’re on the ground struggling. Brad’s on top, pinning C
hase’s shoulders down, but Chase continues to squirm, trying to get his legs free. He’s already got a black eye forming, so I must have missed at least one punch.
“I want my money!” my mom yells, drawing my attention back to her. She launches herself from the sofa onto me. I grab her midair and we both fall to the ground.
“Hailey? You okay?” Brad asks.
I try to reply, but the fall and my mom’s weight knocked the breath out of me. Two seconds later, Brad hurdles the sofa, landing right next to me. He pulls my mom off and checks my face, his hands running from my forehead, down my jaw, and across my chin.
“You okay?”
I nod, but movement in my periphery catches my attention. I glance over my shoulder and see Chase racing toward Brad. He’s holding a switchblade.
“Look out!” I yell, but it’s too late. He impales the knife into Brad’s calf, all the way down to the handle before swiftly removing it.
“You fucking asshole,” Brad yells, blood already turning his jeans red. Chase waves the switchblade in front of himself, keeping Brad at a distance while he retreats toward the door.
I stand, but my mom jumps on my back, knocking me off balance again. I fall into the wall as she yanks on my hair. I swat at her hands, but it does nothing to stop her.
“Get off of her!” Brad yells, coming to my aid again, despite his injury. He clutches her shoulders and holds her in midair, her legs kicking. He tries to lower her gently on the sofa, but she lashes out at him, smacking him in the face.
I’m so focused on them that I don’t notice Chase until he’s right next to me. He locks his elbow around my neck and clamps the switchblade to my throat.
“Brad!” I yell to get his attention. He looks in my direction, drops my mom on the floor, and holds his hands up, cautiously limping toward us.
“Just calm down, man,” he says in a much more relaxed tone than I’m sure he feels.
“She’s mine.”
“She’s not a piece of property. Hailey gets to decide where she wants to be.”
“She already did. She chose me yesterday.”
“I chose you if you’d give them the Monet,” I squeak out against the pressure on my neck. There’s no way I’ll stick to our deal now that I know the Gigi and Gil don’t hold me responsible for what happened, but maybe he’ll slip and provide information that will help the cops find it. “Where is it?” I ask.