Winnie let loose a long-suffering sigh, resigned. “Fine. Do what you have to do. If you get arrested, we’re bailing out the girls before you. I’m not sure we have enough money to bail out all four of you.”
“I won’t be arrested. Trust me. Now, Clove, give me the ginger root. Let’s make a zombie ghost, shall we?”
This next part was going to be unbelievably fun. I could feel it.
“THAT WAS NOWHERE near as fun as I thought it would be,” I lamented two hours later as I led the girls up Judge West’s front walkway. “He didn’t even put up a fight.”
“That’s because he’s a coward,” Bay said. “You can always tell a coward by the way he reacts to other people’s feelings and needs. He didn’t care about David, Michael and Andrew at all. He only cared about himself.”
“But the zombie ghost was fun.” Thistle said. “I especially liked the way you made it smack him like you did. I wish we could’ve seen more of it in your crystal ball, but the picture was horrible.”
“Yeah, that was an inspired touch,” I agreed, stopping on the front porch and squaring my shoulders. “Okay, girls, you know what to do, right?”
“Let you do the talking first,” Bay replied. “If he doesn’t agree with you, Thistle will bully him, I’ll make a speech and Clove will cry.”
“Exactly.” I beamed. “This is the last step for us. We’re extremely close to making sure those boys have the best Christmas ever.”
To my utter surprise, Bay reached over and squeezed my hand. “They’ll always remember you as their hero.”
“I don’t care about that, Bay. I only want them to be happy.”
“I care.” Bay released my hand. “Now, let’s do this. I’m starving, and Mom was making a chocolate cake when we left. I want to see how much sugar I can eat without throwing up tonight.”
“You girls really do take after me. It’s fun sometimes.” I knocked on the door. “Okay. Here we go.”
Judge West was surprised when he opened the door and found us on his porch. It took him a moment to register my identity, and when he did, his face drained of color. “Tillie Winchester.”
“It’s good to see you again, Judge West.” I forced myself to remain calm and pleasant even though I really wanted to launch myself at him and poke my finger into his chest until he agreed to my demands. “I bet you thought you were done dealing with me, huh?”
“I think the word is ‘hoped,’” Thistle corrected.
“I did think we were done dealing with one another,” Judge West confirmed. “Your nieces are grown women now. Custody issues should be a thing of the past.”
“I’ve moved on to other orphaned children.”
Judge West flicked his eyes to the girls. “Are you picking them up on the street now or something?”
“Not them.” I waved off his concerns. “These are my great-nieces.”
“Really?” Judge West smiled at each of the girls in turn. “I don’t remember your mothers’ names, but I do remember their faces. You all look like them.”
“That’s the meanest thing you ever could’ve said to us,” Clove lamented. “I feel like crying it was so mean.”
“Not yet,” I muttered under my breath.
“Well, that wasn’t my intention.” Judge West’s expression was quizzical. “What are you doing here, Ms. Winchester? It’s late and I … really don’t want you in my neighborhood. If I’m not careful the neighbors will call the police, and that’s the last thing I want so close to Christmas.”
“Well, it’s your lucky day then.” I beamed, hoping I came off as friendly rather than deranged. It was honestly a toss-up. “I don’t want to be in your neighborhood. I have to be here for three boys I know. I don’t have a choice.”
“What boys?”
“David, Michael and Andrew Forrester.”
Judge West rubbed his chin, confused. “I recognize the names. They’re in the system. Their case has come before me several times.”
“And you’ve made the wrong decision several times,” Thistle said.
“I’m sure the nuances of being a family court judge aren’t easily acceptable for someone your age.” Judge West adopted a pragmatic and yet somehow condescending tone. “Rest assured, though, I have the best interests of the boys at heart whenever their case comes in front of me.”
“I don’t think you do, and I’m here to explain why,” I interjected.
“I don’t understand why you’re even involved.”
“Because the group home where they lived burned down and we opened our house to help a few of the kids,” I explained. “We got David, Michael and Andrew. They let a few things slip, and … well … here I am.”
“Here you are.” Judge West didn’t look thrilled with the outcome.
“Listen, I don’t want to bust your balls … .”
“She’s lying,” Thistle interjected. “Just agree to what she wants or she’ll never leave.”
Instead of being agitated, Judge West cast an amused look in Thistle’s direction. “I can see you’re built from the same stock as your great-aunt.”
“Okay, that’s the meanest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Thistle corrected, causing Judge West to chuckle.
“Technically I’m not allowed to talk about a custody case with you,” Judge West supplied. “You’re not primary participants.”
“No, but we are secondary participants.”
“And we want the boys to have a merry Christmas,” Clove added plaintively.
“And what makes you think they won’t have a merry Christmas?” Judge West asked.
“Because you won’t let them live with their uncle and they keep getting separated by the system,” Clove answered.
“What do you know about the system?”
“That it’s run by ‘The Man’ and ‘The Man’ is bad.”
I lightly cuffed the back of Clove’s head to silence her. “She’s exaggerating. That’s not exactly what I said.”
“I can imagine what you said,” Judge West said. “That still doesn’t change the fact that until the boys’ father signs over his rights … .”
“But he has,” I interrupted, desperate to get the judge to agree to my terms before the hour turned late. What? I didn’t want to miss the chocolate cake either. “He came to his senses and is having the document notarized right now. Then it’s being overnighted to his brother.”
“It is?” Judge West cocked an eyebrow, surprised. “How did you manage that?”
“I’m very persuasive.”
He snorted. “I bet you are. Still, there’s no way I can push this through before Christmas. You’ll have to wait until after the first of the year. It’s simply impossible for me to change anything right now.”
“Why?” Bay challenged, her eyes flashing. “You’ve made them wait for years. You’ve made it purposely hard on their uncle even though he’s a good man and the boys wanted to live with him. Why can’t you do the right thing now?”
“Yeah?” Thistle pressed. “Why can’t you be a real-life Santa Claus and make this the best Christmas ever for the boys? I think they deserve it, and it would take you only a few minutes.”
“How do you know it would take me only a few minutes?”
“Because you’re a judge,” Thistle replied. “You’re supposed to be powerful.”
“And you’re supposed to do the right thing,” Clove added, throwing in a sniffle for good measure as tears rimmed her eyes. “You want us to believe in the system. You want us to think you’re not ‘The Man.’ You need to prove to us that you want to do the right thing.”
“You need to prove to us that the system works,” Bay added.
Judge West pursed his lips as he glanced between faces, finally resting his somber brown eyes on me. “They’re good.”
“They learned from the best,” I confirmed, bobbing my head.
“I have no doubt.”
“We’re not leaving until you make this happen,” I said. “We worked h
ard to get everything you need to deliver the perfect Christmas to those boys. We’ve done all the hard work for you. All you need to do is sign some paperwork.”
Judge West blew out a heavy sigh as he dragged a hand through his hair, resigned. “Fine. I’ll do what you want.”
“Yay!” Clove clapped her hands and bounced up and down, her tears miraculously evaporating.
Judge West shook his head. “They’re very good.”
“They have a certain something,” I agreed. “So … about that paperwork.”
“Yes, yes. You might as well come in. I’ll need to make a call and fill out some paperwork. It might take a bit of time.”
“That’s okay. We’ll wait.”
“But there’s cake at home,” Bay complained.
“I didn’t say we’d wait patiently.”
“I’ll have that paperwork done in five minutes,” Judge West volunteered. “I’d hate to keep you from the cake.”
I was really starting to like him. Kind of. As much as I could like ‘The Man,’ I mean. Okay, he was still kind of a pain, but he was helping with our Christmas miracle. That sort of made him Santa Claus in my book.
Ten
Terry walked through the back door without knocking shortly before noon the next day. The look on his face was murderous.
“What did you do?”
David, Michael and Andrew sat at the table decorating Christmas cookies – they initially declined because they thought it was a “little kid” task, but decided to jump in when they saw how much fun Bay, Clove and Thistle had while tackling the frosting – and their eyes went wide when Terry stalked in my direction.
“You’ll have to be more specific,” I replied, sipping my coffee. “I’ve done quite a few things over the past forty-eight hours, but I’m not going to own up to any of them without my lawyer present.”
“Then call him.”
“I represent myself.”
Bay giggled at the look on Terry’s face, the reaction just enough to soften his stance. “You look angry.”
“I am angry, Bay.” Terry wiped the back of his hand over his forehead, almost as if it was eighty degrees and he’d just completed hours of manual labor. “Your Aunt Tillie makes me angry.”
“Welcome to the club,” Thistle said. “We all go a little mad around these parts thanks to Aunt Tillie.”
Terry flicked her ear. “Now is not the time for your sarcasm.”
“When will be the time?” Thistle asked, her face stoic. “I need to write it down so I don’t forget.”
“Just … decorate your cookie.” Terry was frazzled. “What’s this?”
Bay handed him a Santa cookie and offered up an angelic smile. “I made this especially for you. It reminds me of when you dressed up like Santa and gave us Sugar.”
Terry balked. “I did not dress up like Santa. That was really Santa.”
“Aunt Tillie told us the truth,” Clove argued. “We don’t believe in Santa any longer.”
“Then that means you’re not going to get any Christmas gifts.” Terry accepted the cookie and glowered at Bay. He managed to maintain the expression for only a few minutes before shaking his head. “Fine. You’ve worn me down. I was Santa. You’re getting a bunch of gifts. Thank you for the cookie.”
“You’re welcome.” Bay linked her arm through his. I recognized what she was doing. It was the little minx’s idea of flirting, although she wasn’t really flirting. She was merely wrapping Terry around her finger to calm him. “You shouldn’t be angry with Aunt Tillie. She’s been very good today.”
“She has,” Thistle agreed. “I’ve only wanted to kill her ten times since I woke up. That has to be a new record.”
“I haven’t forgotten your place on my list, mouth,” I warned. “The day after Christmas, you and I are going to dance.”
“You won’t be naked, will you?”
“She most certainly will not!” Terry barked.
“Calm down, Terry.” Winnie was blasé as she handed him a mug of coffee. “You’re off duty, right?”
“Why?”
“Let’s just say I added a little something to your coffee to ease whatever anger you’ve got going on inside of you,” Winnie replied. “If you’re still on duty I’ll need to take it back.”
Terry cradled the coffee to his chest and offered up a sour grimace. “I’m off duty. You can’t take my coffee.”
“Then drink it and chill out.” It was the closest Winnie ever got to chiding him, and instead of arguing Terry did as he was told. He took a long drink of the coffee, pressing his eyes shut before focusing on me a second time.
“What did you do?”
So much for him calming down. “I believe I already told you I’ll need more information if you expect me to answer that.”
“If this is about a tree falling in Mrs. Little’s yard so she can’t get out of her driveway, we have nothing to do with that,” Clove offered.
Terry’s eyes narrowed. “How did you know about that? The emergency team that was dispatched there said the root system gave way. It was some sort of fluke.”
“That’s why we had nothing to do with it.” Clove batted her big brown eyes and handed Terry a cookie. “I made that one for you. It’s better than the one Bay made. I’m sure you’ll pretend otherwise because she’ll cry if you don’t, but it will be our little secret.”
Terry hunkered down so he was at eye level with Clove. “You’re going to make some man really miserable one day. You know that, right?”
Clove nodded solemnly. “I’m really looking forward to it.”
“I’m sure you are.” Terry took a bite of Clove’s cookie and smiled. “Very good. You’re still in trouble for the tree.”
“I don’t understand,” David interjected. “How can they be responsible for a tree falling?”
“Very good question, David.” I beamed. “Tell him how one little old lady and three small girls could take down a tree, Terry.” It was a challenge, one I knew Terry wouldn’t rise to.
“We’re done talking about the tree,” Terry said. “Although, I’m going to just bet that you four snuck out of this house, all dressed in black, and disappeared for a bit last night.”
“You said you were going hunting for the turkey,” Michael said accusingly.
“I knew it!” Terry wagged a finger in my face. “You’re on my list. The day after Christmas, you and are I going to dance.”
It wasn’t much of a threat but it did make me smile. “I’m looking forward to it. I prefer the Macarena.”
Bay chuckled as she started making the nearly-forgotten hand gestures that accompanied the song. Clove and Thistle instantly mimicked her motions.
“Oh, this family makes me so tired.” Terry pinched the bridge of his nose. “What were we talking about again?”
“How Aunt Tillie made a tree fall even though she was here all night,” Clove replied.
“Thanks for reminding him, Clove,” I snapped.
“You’re welcome.”
Terry growled. “Actually, the tree is the least of my worries,” he said. “I’m more interested in a little visit you paid to Judge West last night. Apparently you showed up on his front porch with three teenage girls in tow and refused to leave unless he did you a favor.”
David’s eyes sharpened as he jerked his head in my direction. “Judge West?”
Terry’s eyes drifted to David. “Do you know him?”
“He’s the judge in charge of our case,” David replied. “He’s the one who won’t let us live with our uncle.”
“But … .” Terry’s expression was hard to read as he broke off and pinned me with a hard look. Whatever he’d been keen to accuse me of died on his lips. “Hmm.”
The sound of the doorbell caused everyone in the room to jolt. The look the boys shared was almost enough to break my heart. They appeared afraid, terrified even. It was almost as if they expected someone to come and take them away.
That was going to happen,
of course. It simply wouldn’t be the sad thing they thought it would be.
“You should probably get that, boys.”
David slid me a sidelong look. “Are we leaving?”
“No. You have a special guest.”
“We do?” David was understandably dubious. “I’m not going to open the door and find a freaky Santa out there, am I?”
I snickered at his worried expression. “In some ways you’re going to find the ultimate Santa out there,” I replied. “I promise he won’t be even remotely freaky.”
“Well, I guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” David muttered, getting to his feet. “Come on, guys. How bad can it be?”
Michael and Andrew fell into step behind their brother, solemn expressions on their faces. They looked as if they were walking to the gallows. Winnie grinned before following, the girls positively giddy as they raced to see who was at the door. They knew, of course. They still wanted to see the boys’ faces.
I moved to follow, but Terry snagged me by the back of the elbow.
“I need you to explain what you were doing at the judge’s house last night,” he whispered. “I got the impression that he wasn’t happy to see you and yet did you a favor at the same time. How did you manage that?”
“I’m gifted.”
“How really?”
“I refused to leave until he agreed to make a Christmas miracle come true.” I saw no reason to lie. As soon as Carl walked through the door, the entire story would spill out. Frankly, I couldn’t wait for the boys to find out the truth.
“What Christmas miracle?” Terry was flustered, his cheeks blazing. He turned his head to the door when David pulled it open, widening his eyes when the boys gasped and Andrew enthusiastically clapped his hands.
“Uncle Carl,” they all sang out in unison.
“We can’t believe you’re here,” Andrew gushed, throwing his arms around Carl’s neck. “We worried you wouldn’t be able to find us.”
Carl looked so happy I thought he might burst into tears. He held himself together, though, and exchanged a hug with each of his nephews. “I almost didn’t make it. A little elf tracked me down and told me where you were. She also invited me to dinner.”
How Aunt Tillie Stole Christmas Page 9
