by C. D. Gill
The last seven months of the year had turned her life into something she didn’t recognize. It had brought her Xander and a reconnection with her family she counted as the sweetest gifts amongst the bad. But despite the changes, the Christmas message remained the same, something she could count on. As if, it’d heal the gaps the tremors of the rest of the year had created.
When the final amen was said, they moved toward the side door with the heave of the crowd. An excited hum echoed off the high arched ceilings and stone floors. They were headed to Brazilian hot chocolate in front of a fireplace as they played games and told stories. A few procrastinators still had presents to wrap in the wrapping room, their storage room off the main basement area. Then a warm dinner and more traditions as a family.
A fantasy life many in this city and world would never know.
Outside in the alley, she relaxed in the cool city air. Andy again stayed beside her as they moved in a group through the pedestrian zone. The revving of an engine registered faintly in the back of her mind as she and her cousins giggled at something Uncle Roberto said.
As the engine’s roar neared them, she glanced over her shoulder. A van was speeding out of an alley toward them. Andy shouted and jumped on top of her, dropping her body to the ground with a jarring pain. A loud whoosh passed her.
Bangs.
Screams.
Fear like she’d never known it crawled over her as she pressed her face into the cobblestone, willing herself to disappear into it before something hit her prone body. The weight of Andy’s body continued to crush her. Amidst the shouts around them, her shallow breaths were the loudest in her ears.
Screeching replaced the engine noise.
She had to help her family. She squirmed as she took an assessment of her limbs. Nothing hurt. Had she somehow escaped being hit?
With a heave, she pushed the weight off her. A thump followed by a low groan had her sitting up in seconds.
“Andy?”
His answer was a moan. He lay rolled onto his back, dazed. Around him, a pool of blood began to take form. Frantically, she searched for the source. She screamed for help as she found a trail of blood from his head.
A couple of people joined her at Andy’s side saying something about “pressure” and stemming the blood flow. An officer standing over them called emergency into his radio.
Sirens wailed through the air. Help was close.
Her family.
Gia stumbled to her feet. Uncle Ronaldo and Daddy stood above Avó, helping her to her feet. Silva and Ze knelt over Uncle Mateus.
His arm was bent at an odd angle. She ran to his side. Silva wrapped his coat around Uncle Mateus’s shoulder.
Relief sank into her soul as the paramedics jogged to his side. She spun in a circle counting and naming everyone. Andy and Mateus were the only ones from their group still on the ground that she could see. The crowd started to form in front of the cathedral as the cathedral staff and their security struggled to keep people behind their outstretched arms.
But it wasn’t their family that people stared and pointed at.
Further down the pedestrian zone, flashing blue lights drew onlooker’s attention. A circle of police had a man on his face, his hands cuffed behind his back. Amos was walking toward Daddy from that scene. She made it to Daddy’s side at the same time Amos did. Up close, Daddy had a small gash on his forehead and his lip was swelling, but he seemed okay.
She rushed to him, her hands cupping his face. “You’re not hurt.”
“Did you get hit?” Daddy turned her around, checking her up and down. She shook her head, unable to find her voice. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “Thank you, God.”
“Andy has a head wound,” she said as they looked over to see him being loaded by the paramedics into the ambulance. Turning, she faced Amos. “That van was inches from me.”
Amos gave her a half-smile. “Then, he did his job perfectly. I’ll head to the hospital to be with him after we’re done here.” Amos shifted his attention to Daddy. “There are a few additional people hit now in critical condition. They’re headed to the University Hospital for care. As for the driver, he didn’t get away. A traffic officer stood in front of the van and shot out the tires. The driver thought the cop was aiming at him so he stopped accelerating. They have him in custody already.” Amos motioned to the police cars.
“He stood in front of a moving vehicle?” Daddy said with surprise.
“She.” Amos smirked. “Once the van stopped, she wrestled the driver straight to the ground. She’s a little banged up, but she’s a national heroine and the press is already all over it.” Amos motioned to the vans and cameras lining up to take in the scene. Plenty of phone cameras had already been capturing the aftermath.
“Get that girl a promotion and a raise and maybe a football contract with the Saints,” Daddy said with a grunt.
Amos smiled. “I’ll look into her record. Maybe she can join our team. Her name will be in the history books, for sure. Once I find out more from the police, I’ll let you know our next steps. We’re going to need to be here for a while to talk to police. I’ll see if they can’t release us to the house and interview us there for comfort and privacy. It’s hard to believe this is a coincidence and not the guy who has been after Joey and Gia. Here’s hoping we got him, Burley.”
“We can only hope,” Daddy murmured.
As Gia took in the scene from the security of Daddy’s arms, the tears fell in rivers down her cheeks. When she thought things couldn’t get any worse, life proved her wrong, so very wrong.
Chapter 24
By the time Xander made it back to Avri’s place with the breakfast, Linc and Avri were waiting on him to go to Mammie’s for lunch and the annual present exchange. Mom’s mom, Mammie, was eighty-three but had hosted them every year on Christmas Eve Day as if it were actual Christmas Day, allowing Mom and her sister to have Christmas Day with their kids.
Xander hadn’t seen or heard from Mammie for six years which didn’t bode too well for her thoughts of him. In his childhood, she’d had a staunch belief that Allens behaved a certain way or the disgrace would affect one’s eternal destination. It was why she and Dad got along so well.
The breakfast treats could be his contribution to their gathering, a hostess gift of sorts. Or a buffer to soothe her disapproval of his presence.
They piled into Linc’s car to carpool, since Linc didn’t trust Avri’s driving and Xander didn’t want his car being tailed again. Avri slid into the back and pushed aside the hockey gear and sports bag.
“Gross, Linc. Wash your sweaty clothes once in a while.” Disgust dripped from her voice. “You don’t take dates in the car with you when it smells like this, do you?”
Linc froze. “Smells like what?”
She made a gagging noise. “That is why you can’t keep a girl. Next time, don’t be chivalrous and just meet her at the restaurant. Your date will last longer.”
Linc muttered something about high-maintenance females as he walked around to the other side of the car, grabbed his bag, and shoved it in his trunk. On the way, Xander explained where he’d been and what had happened that morning.
“I got the strangest feeling about Mayfield. Like he was waiting for me to hand him my sources and the keys to the kingdom,” Xander said. “I think he knows more than he let on.”
Linc snorted. “A cop with a secret? No such thing.”
“Listen, guys.” Avri leaned forward between the front seats. “When I say I have a paper to write, that means we need to wrap it up at Mammie’s and head back, okay? I need to get in the right head space before we spend all day at Mom and Dad’s tomorrow.”
They parked at Mammie’s behind a few other cars. Mom and Dad were already here. As they walked in, Uncle Timothy called from the overstuffed chair where he sat with his feet up.
“There they are. Trouble’s walking in.” He laughed at his joke and gave them a wave without getting up. “We were
about to start without you.”
Xander walked into the kitchen where Mom, Mammie, and Aunt Tiffany were putting the food on platters.
“Sorry we’re late, Mammie. I had car trouble and Linc had to bring me,” Xander said as he handed her the box of pastries.
“Alex!” She threw her arms around his waist and pressed her wrinkled face into his chest. “Oh, you are a sight for my old eyes. I’m so glad you are here.”
He relaxed in her embrace. He hated that his first thought was to assume his family didn’t want to see him, but years of silence didn’t usually mean anything good. Mammie brushed at her cheeks as she went back to fixing lunch.
“What can I do to help?” he asked as he hugged Mom and his stiff-armed aunt.
They sent him to the table with two platters of meat—a roasted ham and a crown roast of pork.
“They got you in there doing women’s work?” Uncle Timothy called to him as he set the food down.
Disgusted, Xander stared as Uncle Timothy laughed from his recliner. What world did this man live in that saying crap like that was okay—as if he was some royalty to be served? “We all eat, Uncle Timothy. And we’ll eat a lot faster if there are more hands helping make it happen.”
Linc and Avri were in the kitchen when Xander returned. Mammie was slapping Linc’s hands as he popped some fruit in his mouth instead of pouring it into the serving bowl.
“You’ll understand some day when your kids start getting serious about someone, Teresa,” Tiffany said across the kitchen to Mom as if three of her four kids weren’t in the room listening, as if Kelsey weren’t already married off.
“Actually, Xander is serious about the most beautiful girl from a really fabulous family. She has a heart of gold and she’s perfect for him.” Mom propped her hands on her hips. “Her race has absolutely no bearing on who she is as a person. I, for one, can’t wait to have her around more often.”
Aunt Tiffany spluttered a bit and then bustled out of the room. Xander raised his eyebrows. Wow, that felt incredibly good to have Mom stand up for him and Gia.
Mom gave him a big smile and a wink. “I’m sure you’re wishing you were with her for the holidays, huh?”
As he opened his mouth to answer, Avri slapped him on the shoulder. “Xander’s looking at rings.”
Mom gasped, rushing to give him a hug. Over Mom’s shoulder, he glared at Avri who smirked like the little rat she was. He didn’t have the heart to tell Mom that the whole world saw Gia on the arm of another man, her security detail, yesterday. His heart ached a bit. Amidst the chaos of the morning, Gia’d left him a message this morning to call her back.
He would call this evening after he got through this family function in one piece.
Mom was right, though. Gia did have a heart of gold. A small part of him didn’t believe that she was out with Andy, but he’d find out tonight.
As they ate lunch, Uncle Timothy dominated the conversation, spewing so much ignorance and political nonsense in a loud voice that Xander had to mentally block him out.
“You excited about being done with teaching science soon, Mom?” Xander asked, quietly so Aunt Tiffany wouldn’t hear.
Mom sighed. “I’ll miss teaching, but the kids and the administrations are so different these days. I won’t miss the attacks from parents, because they want me to pass their failing child. And the administrations that pander to mediocrity, afraid of losing money.”
“Imagine living in a world where our doctors and scientists only ever got participation awards instead of an education,” Xander said with a laugh. Truly the thought terrified him. Quality educators like Mom were leaving schools in droves because of the lack of people interested in supporting children.
“Education is no longer a partnership between the parent and child. The mindset is that it’s an outsourcing. If the child fails, it’s the teacher’s fault. The teacher failed to accurately meet the child’s educational needs and correctly teach in the way the child needed. Never mind that the kid went home and got shoved in front of a screen or didn’t do their homework because of their extracurricular schedules.” Mom turned her blue eyes toward Xander, her concern evident in her face. “I’m worried about the next generation of kids.”
He almost offered for her to join his non-profit in teaching people to make things. Mom was handy and smart. She could make things from trash. She had improvised his whole life. Games with bean cans, art with nature, stories from nonsensical words, dinners from a hodge-podge of food lingering in the pantry or freezer while still a few days away from pay-day, an adventure out of routine chores were a few of the ways she’d crafted a life from the mundane, ordinary things.
But he held his tongue. Mom always had something up her sleeve. “Do you have a plan of the things you want to do during retirement? Or are you going to take it as it comes?”
She set her hand gently on his arm and leaned in as if she were telling a secret. “You know, I’ve always told your dad that I don’t care if we are rich, but long ago we made a deal that I would continue working so that when it comes time to retire I could afford to join the Traveling Science Association. They visit groups and schools around the country and abroad and inspire kids to love and try science. So many kids get it in their head that it’s difficult, you know? Knowing that is what is waiting for me is what has been fueling me to get through these last few years.”
A wave of dread washed over him. “Do you have to pay to be a part?”
“It’s a non-profit. They’ll pay to me to run classes and programs, but I have to pay my way to the other countries and pay for some of my lodging. It shouldn’t be too big of a deal. We never go anywhere and we’ve been putting away money for years. You know your dad isn’t going to give up coaching any time soon.” Mom rolled her eyes.
Xander nearly choked on his food. His eyes darted toward Dad who sat further down the table. It wasn’t his business. Dad didn’t ask him for money or advice. But seeing Mom’s dreams crushed because Dad had somehow lost their savings made his heart hurt.
He shouldn’t get involved.
And that was exactly what he was telling himself after lunch thirty minutes later as he approached Dad, his heart racing.
“Dad, can I talk to you for a second?”
Dad’s smile disappeared as he narrowed his eyes. For a second, it looked as if he was going to say no. “Okay.”
Xander moved into the family room where Uncle Timothy had left the television on, but muted. Dad followed him. He rubbed the sweat from his hands on his pants. He was thirty years old and Dad had no bearing on his life or relationships. He could do this.
He took a deep breath. “I’m concerned for you and Mom. Linc said you were looking to make some high-risk investments to get back some of your retirement. Mom seemed really excited about retirement at lunch. I would hate for her to not get to follow her dreams.”
He was fumbling and Dad was like a shark who could smell blood.
Dad crossed his arms and stood a little taller. “It’s not your business, Alex. Your mom and I are fine. She’s going to retire at the end of the school year just as we have always planned.”
Stubborn. “Was it gambling? Or tax evasion? Did you do something illegal, Dad?”
“I said, it is none of your business. You think that coming around for six months entitles you to talk about things you know nothing about?”
“I would know about them if you’d let me be a part of your lives. What will it take for you to understand that I’m not guilty? Guess what—the almighty justice system gets it wrong. Once my settlement is over, you’ll see. You will have to see what you refuse to acknowledge. You’d rather hold a grudge.”
Dad licked his lips, his agitation growing. “Your imprisonment hurt our family in a lot of ways.”
Of course, Dad would make this about his prison term. Xander took a deep breath to stay the awaiting explosion. This conversation wasn’t about him right now and Dad redirecting the attention was a classic diver
sion tactic.
In a barely controlled hiss, Xander stepped closer. “Whatever you’ve done, you need to fix, because you do not want to end up in prison.” He lifted his shirt, exposing his scar. “There is no guarantee that you will come out alive. I almost didn’t. You need to make right, whatever it is that you’ve done.”
Dad’s eyes widened at the sight of Xander’s long, thin scar. “I, uh—” His shoulders sagged a bit. “We can talk about it after Christmas. Let’s just enjoy the day, because we’re never guaranteed next year.”
Progress. Xander nodded. He gave Dad a small smile. His good feeling dissolved into a heart-stopping panic when he caught sight of the television over Dad’s shoulder.
No. No. It couldn’t be true.
There on the news were the professional headshots of Gia and her parents. The subtitle said three dead, six injured. In large letters on the bottom of the screen, the headline read, “Live from the St. Louis Cathedral—Driver Plows into Christmas Mass Crowd.”
He couldn’t catch his breath.
“Lincoln.” Xander spun around. “Lincoln.” His shouts echoed through the house. Everyone ran into the room, wide-eyed and alarmed.
“What? What’s wrong?” Lincoln looked from him to Dad, worried.
“I need to go to the airport. Now.”
Mom gasped. Her hands flew to her face when she saw the pictures. “Unmute it. Someone turn it on. That’s Gia. That’s Xander’s girlfriend.”
Xander didn’t bother to say goodbye. If Gia had been hit or was dead, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Oh, God. Let her be alive and okay. Please.
“Do you want to stop by your house for a suitcase?” Linc said, pulling the car onto the main road.
“No.” Everything inside him felt numb. He checked his phone. Nothing. She was dead, wasn’t she? The stalker actually followed through on his threat to kill her, because she didn’t stop the project.
It was a horrible nightmare.
“If she’s dead, Linc, I swear I—”
“She’s going to be okay.”
“How can you say that?” He grunted. “You don’t know.”