Travis - A Scrooged Christmas

by Tracie Douglas

  I get out of the truck and saunter up the steps, stopping right in front of her.

  “Does your mother know you’re standing on my front porch?” I ask, and she smiles up at me, thrusting the plate of cookies toward me. I look at them and take a quick breath. They’re Christmas cookies, with bright holiday decorations.

  “We made these for you last night to say thank you for your help, but after everything that happened, Mom forgot to bring them over to you,” she explains. “I thought I’d do it for her.”

  “How long have you been waiting for me?”

  “A little while. I didn’t want to just leave them here.”

  “You shouldn’t have come.” I swallow, feeling like a wild animal backed into a corner. I can’t bring myself to take the cookies. “You need to go.”

  “Did I do something wrong?” she asks, her voice wavering, and she takes a step back.

  “I don’t want the cookies.”

  “Oh, if we put cookies on the plate you don’t like, I can switch them out for you. We made a lot of—”

  “No,” I growl a little too harshly and watch as she flinches from my outburst. “Shit, I’m sorry, but Hannah, you need to go home.”

  She looks between me, the cookies, and her house before thrusting the plate at me again. This time, I step back and sneer at the sweets. I hate Christmas cookies as much as I hate Christmas.

  “Please, leave and take those things with you,” I tell her, doing my best to keep calm, but the panic rises in the back of my throat.

  “Hannah?” Liv’s voice comes from their backyard, and I watch Hannah’s eyes widen. Her mother has no idea she’s here at my house. “Where are you?”

  “You better go before she finds you here.” I turn and unlock my front door, ignoring the young girl. Opening and closing the door on her, I feel like the world’s biggest asshole yet again. I look at her through the peephole. Liv calls out her to once more, but Hannah stands still, making me more worried with each second that passes. When she finally moves and steps back into the light, I groan.

  Hannah is crying, and it’s all my fault.

  I didn’t have to be such an asshole to her. She’s just a kid.

  Maybe I did have too much to drink tonight, after all.

  “Fuck,” I swear, but there is no one to hear me.

  There’s been no one to hear me for years.

  A sudden pounding at the door wakes me from the thought trance I was slowly slipping into.

  I look around, unsure of how long I’ve been standing here and feeling like it was longer than I should have been.

  “You stupid son of a bitch, open this door right now,” Liv yells from the other side of the door in between pounds. “What did you say to my daughter?”

  Shit. Hannah.

  I open the door, and she pushes her way inside, pinning me against the wall.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” she demands, her nostrils flaring with each ragged breath she takes in. She’s in mama bear mode. “Do you enjoy making seven-year-old girls cry?”

  “She shouldn’t have been here,” I say dryly.

  “So, you decide to make her cry?”

  “She had cookies.” I straighten before using my height to push her back a little. Talk about cornering a wild animal. I’m starting to feel like I can’t breathe. My heart pounds heavily in my chest and guilt over what I’ve done to Hannah begins to gnaw at my gut.

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” Liv sputters. “She was trying to say thank you for what you’ve done for us. She was trying to be nice, not poison your arrogant ass.”

  I hang my head and sigh.

  Fuck, she’s right.

  What was I thinking?

  She’s a fucking kid. An innocent girl who just wanted to do something nice for me.

  “Is she okay?” I ask, feeling the urge to push past Liv and beg for Hannah’s forgiveness.

  “You know, that’s the first decent thing you’ve said to me since meeting me.” She throws her arms up and steps back. “Of course, she isn’t okay. Why do you think I’m here? She’s crying uncontrollably in her bedroom.”

  Yup, I fucked up. Big time.

  “I’m sorry, Liv,” I murmur. “I shouldn’t have talked to her that way.”

  “What is your problem?” she asks exasperatedly. “Ever since we got here, it’s like you set out to hate us, no matter what we did.”

  “I don’t hate you—” I start, but she holds up a hand, stopping me from saying anything more.

  “It doesn’t matter, okay? We can be neighbors without being best friends.” She wraps her arms around her and rubs her bare arms. I notice she isn’t wearing a jacket, just pair of yoga pants and a thin T-shirt. “Just leave my daughter out of this, okay? She’s going through enough shit right now; she doesn’t need you adding to it.”

  “Where is your jacket?” I demand, ignoring everything she said. “Are you trying to catch a cold?”

  “What’s it to you, neighbor?” She turns and walks out of my house. I watch her go, once again feeling the whiplash of her presence. She stops the moment she steps onto her driveway, and looks at me from over her shoulder. “Stay on your side of line, and we’ll stay on ours.”

  She continues into the house, slamming the door behind her, leaving me a jumbled mess.

  Liv

  The old me wouldn’t have said anything to the asshole next door, but I found myself pounding on his front door before I realized what I set out to do.

  When Hannah burst into the house in tears, I didn’t know what to think, until I saw her drop the plate of cookies on the ground and watched her stomp all over them. Then I knew.

  She was next door.

  I’d heard Travis pull in not too long before I went looking for Hannah. She was upset this morning because I didn’t take him the cookies, like I’d promised her I would do. I know my daughter, and I knew she would try to take him the cookies herself. What I didn’t count on was her sneaking out of the house before I could stop her from doing it.

  The look on Travis’ face was enough to tell me what he said to her wasn’t said to hurt her. My girl is a sensitive soul, though if you tell her that, she’ll deny it. It doesn’t take much to push her into the mess I found her in.

  I climb the stairs and rapt softly on her door. She doesn’t respond.

  “Hannah, sweetie, are you okay?”

  Still no answer. We are supposed to pull out the Christmas decorations tonight.

  Feeling a panic inside my chest, I push open her door and find her curled up in the middle of her bed, sound asleep. My heart wrenches in my chest, knowing my girl cried herself out, while I was next door chewing the asshole a new one.

  A new emotion fills me. Anger.

  I don’t care if he feels bad for what he’s done tonight; he’s pushed this mama bear too far.

  A plan of revenge begins to formulate in my head, and after pulling Hannah’s boots off and tucking a blanket around her, I let myself begin to feel everything.

  I don’t know who this man thinks he is, but I’m done tiptoeing around him. I didn’t pound on his door that first day, making assumptions and demands. I didn’t ask him for his help the morning my car wouldn’t start. I didn’t ask him to change my battery either. He’s the one putting himself in our lives.

  He doesn’t want to be inconvenienced by his neighbors. Maybe I can use that to my advantage.

  It’s how to do it that I have to figure out.

  Travis

  “Yoo-hoo, Travis!” My neighbor Trina’s voice stops me at the steps of my front porch. I turn to greet her and see her husband, Clark, walking beside her.

  Trina’s bright and cheerful smile frightens me a little. It has to be unnatural to smile that big and that often. Clark’s smile is strained, as if he’d rather be sitting in front of his television watching sports than be out in the cold. Not that I blame him. I wish I were doing the same.

  I give the couple a once-over and recognize Trina’s hol
iday apparel and the plate she’s carrying with her.

  That better not be what I think it is.

  As she moves in closer, I realize it is.

  Fucking Christmas cookies.

  “Evening, Trina. Clark,” I murmur before exchanging a nod with Clark.

  “Happy Holidays,” Trina singsongs, thrusting the plate of cookies toward me. “I realize we’ve never exchanged baked goods before, but well, I had some extra and thought you might like some of my famous chocolate thumbprint cookies. They’re award winning.”

  I look down at the cookies, wishing the ground would open beneath my feet and swallow me whole. What the fuck is with everyone trying to give me cookies? I reach out for the plate, because let’s face it, I’ve made enough females cry in the last twenty-four hours.

  “Thank you, Trina.” I swallow and look at the sweets. I was never a dessert eater to begin with, so I’m struggling to find the words to express my gratitude. “They look delicious.”

  “I hope you enjoy them.” If possible, her smile grows larger and she looks past me toward the house. “Clark and I were talking, just this morning. We know you don’t decorate for Christmas, but if you’d like, we have an extra string of lights or two. If you want, Clark would be happy to help you hang them up.”

  “No,” I yelp, and Trina blanches. Shit! “I mean, I wouldn’t want Clark to go out of his way. It’s just me here, and I don’t even put up a tree.”

  “You can’t be serious. Everyone needs a tree,” she feigns shock. It isn’t a secret to anyone on the block, and I know it. Not once in the last three years have I decorated, and I’m not about to change it now. “Clark, do we still have that fake tree we bought a few years ago in the attic? Surely we can loan it to Travis.”

  “Honey—” Clark starts, but Trina doesn’t let him get another word in.

  “It already has lights on it, Travis. I bought it one year thinking of saving some decoration time, but I—”

  “Trina, I appreciate the offer, but I am going to have to pass,” I cut her off this time, ready to nip the developing situation in the bud. It’s not my intention to be an ass, but I take pride in being the kind of neighbor who keeps to himself. Trina’s never approached me before, and I want to make sure she doesn’t do it again. “I don’t decorate because I don’t celebrate Christmas. Thank you so much for the cookies. I’m sure I will enjoy them, but I’m running late for an appointment.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry,” Trina stutters and looks at Clark. He looks at me with a smirk, silently thanking me for ending his torture. “Well, I guess we better be going.”

  “It’s nice of you to think of me,” I add, trying to lessen the effect of my bluntness. “You folks have a good evening.”

  I watch them walk back down the pathway and turn away the moment they hit the street to enter my house.

  I beeline it to the kitchen, putting the plate on the counter, and then stare down at them, contemplating my next move. Should I throw them out? It’s not like I’m going to eat them. Or should I take them over to Betty’s? But then I’d have to explain how I got them in the first place, and quite frankly, I don’t need another lecture from my aunt about my scrooge attitude.

  I take my gloves off and frown, scratching my head. Trina’s never brought me cookies before. No one ever has. Why now?

  I begin to unbutton my jacket when the sound of the doorbell ringing interrupts my thoughts.

  Something doesn’t feel right.

  I walk from the kitchen to the door and slowly open it. Standing on the other side are Josh and Lisa from across the street. A younger couple, they moved into the neighborhood this summer with their four children.

  “Merry Christmas,” they greet me. Lisa smiles up at me. She’s bundled up in a pink puffy jacket, matching scarf, and mittens. Josh, unlike Clark, looks happy to be standing next to his little wife, proud as she thrusts a large plate filled with Christmas sweets at me.

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  “The kids and I have been baking up a storm the last few days, and we thought you might enjoy a few of them,” she explains, talking excitedly.

  “My wife’s peanut butter cookies are the best you will ever have.” Josh nods, while I stand speechless.

  I’m on friendly terms with Trina and Clark, but I’ve never more than uttered a word to the couple across the street. Yet here they are. Bringing me more cookies.

  Fuck.

  “What is going on?” I ask a little too harshly, causing the young couple to take a step back. “Why are you bringing me cookies?”

  “It’s the holidays. We’re trying to be neighborly.” Josh’s eyes narrow on me, but not before he wraps a protective arm around Lisa.

  “Why?” I demand, trying to smother my frustration.

  Seriously, what is it with the fucking cookies!

  “Liv thought it would be nice for the neighborhood to bring you some Christmas cheer,” Lisa spills. Feeling brave again, she holds out the plate once more, but my gaze is no longer on Josh and Lisa. It’s on the house next door and the woman standing on her porch. She’s watching the entire exchange with a smug smile across her face.

  “Did she now?” I ask, but I don’t wait for an answer. “You should know before this goes any further, I’m not going to decorate my house. I don’t do trees. In fact, I don’t celebrate this damn holiday at all.”

  “But cookies…” Lisa refuses to let my words get her down and holds up the plate of cookies under my nose, meaning to entice. I feel like taking the plate and throwing it across the yard.

  I close my eyes and sigh heavily. Taking the cookies from her, I wish the couple a good evening and watch them walk away, just like I did with Trina and Clark.

  Only this time, I look back at the woman behind my surprise visitors and find her laughing. She’s clearly enjoying this. Is she really the reason I’ve received two plates of cookies in the last ten minutes? Why?

  “Is this funny to you?” I call out to her. Her lips quirk and she lifts her hand to point at something. I turn my head and see a line of neighbors headed down my walkway.

  Each holding a plate of fucking Christmas cookies.

  Fucking hell.

  Liv

  Getting the neighbors onboard for my plan against Travis was easier than I thought. Especially after I told them about the state he left my daughter in.

  Lisa was particularly ready to claw his eyes out. She has three daughters of her own, each just as sensitive as my Hannah. She was the first to agree to my idea.

  It took a little bit of convincing to get all the men onboard, but once their wives started in on them, they were quick to change their tunes.

  But the plates of cookies weren’t all I asked of them.

  I’m stapling the last strand of lights on my house when he pulls into his driveway. I’ve spent all day covering every inch of my house in twinkle lights. Feeling a rush of giddiness, I carefully climb down the ladder and look around.

  It isn’t just my house decked out.

  Every house on the street is covered in lights, and at six o’clock this evening, Travis will get the light show of his life. Each house is painstakingly decorated and programmed to one of my favorite Christmas songs. A song that with strategically placed speakers directed toward his bedroom window, will hopefully drive him crazy.

  I bounce on the balls of my feet, wishing I could see his face when everything goes down. What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on his wall. Instead, I’ll be outside in the middle of the street with my neighbors, having a mini-Christmas block party. Clark is building a large bon fire in the middle of the street, and we are setting up for hot chocolate and peppermint s’mores.

  Checking my watch one last time, I carry the ladder back into the garage to get ready for the show. It takes everything in me not to look next door and sneak a glimpse of him.

  I need to be strong if I’m going to win the war I’m declaring on him. Even if he is probably God’s gift to women, he made my baby girl
cry, and that just isn’t acceptable.

  ***

  “Five, four, three, two, one, zero,” we yell, counting down the seconds right before the street lights up and the music begins to play. The first sounds of the song Santa Baby fill the street, and everyone begins to sing along with it.

  The sight around us is amazing, and my heart swells when Hannah leaves the group of girls she invited from school to throw her arms around my middle.

  “I know I’ve been a mess, Mom,” she whispers in my ear, clinging to me tightly. “But this is seriously the coolest thing you’ve ever done.”

  “Han—” I start, feeling my throat swell with emotion, but she cuts me off.

  “Thank you for trying to make everything better. I know leaving our home and Daddy wasn’t easy for you.” She pulls back from me and keeps going. “We’re going to be okay, though.”

  Before I can say anything, or react, she lets me go and runs back to her friends. Lisa and Trina flank either side of me, while I try to wrap my head around my daughter’s words, wondering when the hell she got so smart.

  “What in the hell is going on out here?” His deep voice breaks through the merriment happening all around.

  “We’re having a block party,” Lisa answers, elbowing me in the side. Since meeting these two women, we’ve become fast friends. Trina with her years of wisdom, and Lisa with her fun can-do spirit. “Want some peppermint spiked hot chocolate? It’s like Christmas in your mouth.”

  She holds out the small Styrofoam cup she’s been nursing, but Travis ignores it. His wildly dark eyes have zeroed in on me, pinning me to my spot in front of him. His dark blue thermal is rolled up on his forearms, while his dark hair falls across his forehead. There is even a trace of oil across one side of his cheek. My fingers itch to reach up and touch him.

  Fuck, does he always look this good? My knees shake, and I look him up and down, wondering what his Christmas in my mouth would taste like.

  Stop it, I tell myself, looking for the words to acknowledge him, but I’ve got nothing. The throbbing in between my legs intensifies, and I’m half-tempted to forget this plan of revenge and beg him to. What the fuck did Trina put in this hot chocolate?