The Christmas Sisters

by Sarah Morgan

  “No.” She didn’t even need to think about that one. “They understand me. We’ve shared the same experiences, and that binds you together in a way that nothing else does.”

  “Even though none of you talk about it.”

  “We don’t want to talk about it, and each of us understands that. It doesn’t need explaining or excusing. And it isn’t just the accident that binds us. It’s a hundred other small things that seem like nothing on their own, but together make up a history.”

  Jason nodded. “I envy you. I envy that the three of you share that history. It’s only at Christmas that we all come together, but I always see it. Even when you fight, there’s an intimacy to it. It isn’t a fight any other three people could have. You have this whole secret life and connection that no one else is part of. And yes, friends can be like family, but they’re not family and with family you try that little bit harder. Look at you and Hannah—she drives you crazy, but have you ever been tempted to give up on her?”

  Beth swallowed. “No. I’m incredibly proud of her. She is so smart. And even if she wasn’t smart, I’d still be proud of her. She’s my sister.”

  He stroked her hair back from her face and tucked it under her hat. “And that’s what I want for our girls. When we’re old and wrinkled and causing problems, I want them to be able to call each other and say Do you know what our parents said today? I want them to support each other.”

  “I want that, too. And I think they will. Although they’re different and they sometimes fight, the girls are close.”

  “You’ve encouraged them to be kind to each other, to care about each other. You’ve knitted our family together like glue.” He took a deep breath. “And that glue isn’t going to fail if you go back to work. So if that’s what you want, then you should definitely do it.”

  “What about another baby?”

  “After caring for the two I already have, I’ve been rethinking that. As you gathered from our daughter’s frank revelations, when it comes to parenting, I’m a failure. You should fire me.”

  “I don’t think you’re a failure.”

  “I lost Bugsy.”

  “That was a misdemeanor, not a fireable offense. Oh, Jason—” She stood on tiptoe and locked her arms round his neck.

  “I’ve been thinking about what it was like when you were in the delivery room.” He wrapped his arms round her tightly. “All that panic. I’m not sure I want to go through that again. I think I was having my own little midlife crisis. I guess once you acknowledge that you’ve had your last child, you know your life is going to enter a different phase and I wasn’t ready to accept that.”

  “And now?”

  “I love the way our family is. I love you. I don’t want anything different.”

  Beth felt nothing but relief. “I love you, too.” She eased away. “I’m never going to be wrinkled by the way. That’s not going to happen. Nor is gray hair.”

  “I think I saw one.” Jason tugged off her hat and she shrieked and made a grab for it.

  “My ears will freeze. And if you point out my gray hairs, I’m divorcing you.”

  “Don’t ever divorce me.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his mouth warm and skilled on hers. “I love you, Beth McBride.”

  “I’m Butler.”

  “You are.” He smiled against her lips. “And you’re staying that way.” He took her hand and they carried on walking round the lake, content in each other’s company.

  “We don’t spend enough time just the two of us.”

  “Agreed.” His hand tightened on hers. “We’ll do more of it.”

  It felt like a fresh start, standing here surrounded by such breathtaking beauty, planning for the future.

  “It’s lovely being able to leave the girls with family, knowing they’re safe. And that’s what we need to put in place back home. Reliable childcare. If your mother will help, then when I’m at work I can focus on what I’m doing without worrying about the children.”

  She wouldn’t be one of those mothers who constantly felt torn in all directions. All it required was organization. Juggling. She’d have clear work time and family time. She pictured herself giving interviews to some of the glossy magazines on how she balanced career and family. In her head she staged the photos. The children would be sitting at the kitchen table writing stories or filling in their scrapbooks, a plate of healthy snacks within reach. Sliced apple and carrot. Maybe celery sticks. Beth’s laptop would be closed on the counter, proving that when she was in family mode, it was all about her children. If her phone rang, she’d let it go to voice mail because listening to her children meant giving them her full attention.

  She thought about the details as they walked back to the house.

  Basking in the glow of the perfect imaginary life she’d created for herself, Beth pushed open the kitchen door. She gave an anguished scream, stopped without warning, and Jason slammed into her.

  “Sorry! What the—” He saw what had made her stop.

  It was like a scene from a horror movie.

  “Is that...blood?” Beth was shaking so badly she almost collapsed on the spot. Panic weakened her limbs. There had been an accident. A bad accident. “Ruby? Where’s Ruby?” Only later would she reflect that she’d called only her younger daughter’s name, as if knowing instinctively that she was the only one likely to be connected to this carnage. “Is she injured? Dead?” There was no sign of the children, and both her sisters were on their hands and knees scrubbing at the wall. “What happened? Did you take her to the hospital? Is she alive?”

  “Will you calm down?” Posy blew her hair out of her eyes. “If this whole PR thing doesn’t work out, you might want to consider a career as an actress. Not Shakespeare. One of those cheap horror movies where the girls walk into dark buildings going Is anyone there? and scream all the time. No one is in the hospital. And it’s not blood. It’s lipstick, although I admit it’s a good color match. I think they should rename it Vampire, not Everyday Red. And, by the way, I can confirm the accuracy of their claim that no kiss is going to shift this lipstick. We’ve tried soap and water and pretty soon we’re moving on to neat bleach. Nothing is budging it from the paintwork.”

  Beth’s legs were so shaky she leaned against the wall for support.

  She’d been sure it was blood.

  Jason stepped past Beth and scanned the extent of the damage. “Shit.”

  Ruby bounded into the kitchen at that precise moment and gasped with delight. “Daddy said shit.”

  Why was it that children never listened when you wanted them to, but listened perfectly well when it was something you’d rather they didn’t hear? “Daddy said shut,” Beth said. “Shut. He wanted me to shut the door. It’s cold out there.”

  Ruby looked unconvinced. “But—”

  “Go and find your sister, Ruby. Daddy will be there in a minute. We’ll talk about this later.” She waited until Ruby had slunk away, then turned back to the room.

  Jason was staring at the wall with something close to wonder. “Ruby did that? She has talent. It’s magnificent. It reminds me of an early Picasso—”

  “Jason!” Beth felt a rush of exasperation. “The door, before we all freeze.”

  He roused himself. “Sure. Can I put myself on the other side of it?”

  “No. You can follow Ruby and don’t take your eyes off her. I’ll be along in a minute.”

  Bonnie padded into the room and Beth gave another gasp as she saw the red streaks on the dog’s golden fur. “She—Oh no—”

  “Yup.” Posy glanced at the dog. “Bonnie is modeling Sexy Scarlet. And it looks good on her, don’t you think? I am going to have to lock her up or we’ll have puppies by New Year.” She kissed Bonnie and Jason slid quietly from the room.

  All Beth’s frustration and anxiety exploded. “How could you let this happen? You
were supposed to be watching them. When I think what could have happened...” She could barely breathe. “Ruby could have wandered into the mountains and got lost! She could have been buried in a snowdrift and frozen to death. She could have run into the lane and been hit by a car. Cut herself with a knife in the kitchen...”

  “I’m sorry. I had to make an urgent call.” Hannah looked stricken, while Posy dipped the cloth into the sudsy water and rubbed at the wall.

  “It couldn’t have waited? It was an hour—that’s all! One hour.” Beth forgot that only ten minutes earlier she’d been telling Jason she wouldn’t not have her sisters for anything in the world. Now she could cheerfully have throttled both of them. “Work should not come before family.”

  “Yeah?” Posy threw her a cloth. “Says the work-obsessed woman who left the table at least eight times last night to take calls from her psycho boss. Wipe the self-righteous look off your face, Bethany Alice McBride, and start cleaning. Or you can wash my dog. Whichever you prefer, but do something. Don’t just stand there lecturing us.”

  Beth stood in shocked silence. When had she last heard Posy stand up for Hannah? She couldn’t remember. And while it was true that she was juggling family and her new role, she wasn’t obsessed. And how could they be so unsympathetic when they were the ones to blame? “You shouldn’t have left them.”

  “You shouldn’t have left your makeup all over the table,” Posy snapped. “If you’d cleared up as I asked you to, this wouldn’t have happened, so at least admit you share the blame.”

  Beth didn’t want to share the blame. “They could have had an accident.”

  “But they didn’t, so we’re all good.” Posy exchanged looks with Hannah. “I can’t budge the red. You?”

  “No. I’m doing better with the plum color. It isn’t quite as resistant.”

  “What is in this stuff?” Posy scowled at Beth. “You should check the ingredients, because if this is what it does to the wall, you’re not putting any more of it on my face.”

  Hannah examined the stubborn streak. “We should search the internet for solutions. Maybe lemon juice or something?”

  Beth felt overwhelmed. “I need to check on the girls.”

  Posy’s cheeks were flushed from the effort of rubbing. “I checked on them just before you arrived. They were in the den, writing their lists for Santa. And before you panic again, I confiscated the glitter.”

  “They’ve already written lists for Santa. We did it weeks ago.”

  “Well, they’re doing another one.” Posy rubbed hard at a red streak. “You left us in charge, we get to choose the activity and you don’t get to criticize.”

  Beth dumped her coat over the back of a chair. “What if they ask Santa for something different? The gifts are bought and wrapped.” She couldn’t bear the idea that they’d be upset on Christmas Day. “They can’t change their minds.”

  “Well, tell them—” Posy floundered. “I don’t know. Tell them Santa likes surprises.”

  “Do they still believe all that?” Hannah rocked back on her heels. “You could just tell them Santa won’t be coming because he doesn’t actually—”

  “Santa won’t be coming?” Ruby’s voice came from the doorway. “Why won’t he be coming? Because I drew on the walls? Does he know I was bad?” Her voice cracked. Her bottom lip wobbled.

  Beth scooped her up. Could this day get any worse? “What Aunt Hannah means is that she doesn’t believe Santa will be coming to her.”

  “Why? Has Aunty Hannah been naughty?”

  Beth tried to carry Ruby out of the room, but she twisted and wriggled until Beth had to put her down.

  “Aunty Hannah—” Ruby ran across to Hannah, ignoring the dripping cloth and the marks on the wall. “Why won’t Santa be coming to you? What did you do?”

  Beth was so tense she felt as if her spine might snap.

  If her sister rejected her little girl this time, that would be the final straw.

  She was not going to bite her tongue.

  She watched, her heart in her mouth, as Ruby crawled carefully onto Hannah’s lap and wrapped her arms round her.

  So trusting, Beth thought, terrified for her daughter, who was blissfully unaware of the rejection that might follow such an unrestrained display of affection.

  She stepped forward, determined to intervene so that little Ruby could keep her belief in people intact for a little longer, but then she saw Hannah’s arm come around her.

  She froze, watching as Ruby kissed Hannah on the cheek.

  “Have you written him a letter, Aunty Hannah?”

  “I—No,” Hannah said. “I haven’t written him a letter.”

  “Then he can’t know what you want. You should write. It’s not too late. I could help you write it.” Ruby slid off Hannah’s lap and tugged at her sleeve. “You can use my sparkly pens if you like.”

  “Sparkly pens,” Posy muttered. “I removed the glitter, but I forgot about the sparkly pens. Danger is everywhere.”

  “Sparkly pens.” Hannah stood up slowly and took Ruby’s outstretched hand. “That sounds like fun.”

  Fun? Had Hannah actually said it sounded like fun?

  Beth couldn’t remember a time when her sister had voluntarily played with the girls.

  “Wait!” Posy levered herself to her feet and dropped the cloth in the bucket. “I am not cleaning this wall by myself while you lot get to write to Santa with sparkly pens.”

  “It’s important, Aunty Posy. All my pens are in the den.” Ruby dragged Hannah out of the room, the conversation floating back to them. “What would you like for Christmas, Aunty Hannah?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You must know. Think really hard. Everyone has something they want. If you had one wish and you could have anything in the world, what would you have?”

  The voices faded, so Beth missed Hannah’s answer.

  She looked at Posy. “What’s happened to Hannah?”

  Posy was staring into space.

  “Posy?”

  The glazed look in Posy’s eyes faded. “What?”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “Did you know Hannah broke her arm?”

  Beth glanced toward the door. “She looked fine to me.”

  “When we were kids. Dad took her climbing. She fell off a rock. Do you remember that?”

  Beth looked at her sister, and then the red streaks of the wall. “What is the relevance of that question?”

  “Do you remember it?”

  “No.” Beth rubbed her forehead with her fingers. “Maybe. Vaguely. I drew on her plaster. And it was her right arm, so she couldn’t use it for weeks. You don’t remember?”

  “I don’t have any memories of that time, apart from Suzanne hugging me.”

  “Why are you bringing this up now? I’m dealing with a crisis, and you’re reminiscing about the past?”

  “The crisis is in your imagination, but you’re right, forget it,” Posy said, and Beth felt a rush of frustration.

  “Hannah doesn’t believe in happy endings. If she tells Ruby that Santa doesn’t exist, I will kill her.”

  “She’s not going to say that, but just in case she lets something slip by accident, we’ll go and check on her. We can scrub the lipstick off the wall later. Come on. Time for sisterly teamwork. Let’s have fun.”

  It sounded surprisingly appealing. Beth relaxed a little. “All of us?”

  “It’s Christmas. If we can’t all go wild with sparkly pens at Christmas, when can we?”

  Beth had taken one step toward the door when her phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and her relaxed mood evaporated. “It’s Corinna. I should—”

  “You shouldn’t. Please tell me you are not going to take that call. We’re about to have sister time! God knows, that doesn’t happen often. Co
rinna can wait.” Posy paused with her hand on the door and Beth was caught in a storm of indecision.

  She didn’t particularly want to take the call, but she felt as if she should.

  She knew it was expected of her.

  Hating herself, she answered her phone. “Hi, Corinna—”

  Posy’s smile faded. “Because nothing comes before family, right?” Shaking her head, she walked out of the room.

  20

  Posy

  “This isn’t easy to say, so I’m just going to come right out with it. And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you didn’t interrupt until I’m done.” Posy settled herself comfortably. After so many attempts to tell someone how she was feeling, she was determined to say it this time. “Luke has asked me to climb with him next summer. That’s right, you heard me. He’s putting together an expedition to climb Denali, in Alaska. Don’t be alarmed. It’s going to be safe, I promise, and I’ll train and everything. He seems to think I might even be able to get sponsorship from one of the big companies that make all the outdoor gear, which would be cool because what’s hard about being paid to wear clothes you’re wearing anyway?” She drew breath. “I can see you’re surprised, and I don’t blame you. After all, I’m the girl who has never lived away from home apart from when I went to college. But the thing is, I want to do this badly. I guess we know where I inherited those climbing genes from. But I don’t want you to take it personally. It’s not about you. It’s about me. You do understand that?” She closed her eyes, struggling with her feelings. “Why do I feel guilty? Because I love it here. And I love you. I’m not leaving because I don’t love you. I hope you know that.”

  “You’re in love with a chicken?”

  Posy opened her eyes.

  Luke was leaning against the door of the henhouse, his eyes bright with amusement.

  She felt her face heat. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be writing.”

  “The first thing you need to know about writers is that they will do just about anything to avoid having to actually write.”