The table crashed to the floor. Brett moved it out of the way.
Paul handed Brett a crow bar and held out another one to me. “It might be better to pry off the wood. Don’t want to damage the ticket.”
He was right.
I placed the sledgehammer down. The three of us pried away the pieces to the bench, tossing them to the side. Some of the pieces were stained and I tried not to think of why and blocked Samuel’s image from my mind.
I sat back on my heels. Disappointment cascaded through me. Every piece of the bench was removed. No ticket. There was a sound near the bay door. A scratching.
“I left the door open a crack,” he whispered. “Someone is trying to get in.”
“Merry, hide somewhere,” Brett said.
Before I disagreed with Brett, I heard a familiar voice calling my name. Abraham. He was distraught. “Stay here. Both of you.”
“Merry Christmas, you here?” There were tears in his voice.
I walked down the steps. “I’m here, Abraham.”
He beamed at me. Ebenezer was cradled in his arms. The little bundle of fur was safe and content, half-asleep, head drooping over Abraham’s arms. “You’re safe. Nothing bad happened to you.”
“No, Abraham. I’m fine. I thought you were coming tomorrow,” I spoke a little louder, hoping the guys knew I was safe and not to charge out. Abraham wasn’t a threat to anyone. “Why did you think I wasn’t safe?”
“Your house was so messy. Mama said it was like that when she walked in. She told me to take Ebenezer to keep him safe. I did.”
“You did a good job. You didn’t walk inside with your mom?”
He shook his head. “She asked me to wait in the car until she was sure you were home. Since we came early.”
“How long did you wait?”
Abraham tilted his head to the side, brows and nose scrunching up. “How long did Mama ask me to wait? She didn’t give me a time. I just stayed in the car until she came out.”
“How long was she in my house?”
“Merry, did we do something wrong?” He was hurt. Confused by all my questions.
“No, you just came earlier than I expected. I feel bad you were at my house and I wasn’t home.”
“The weather man said snow was coming. It would stop me from seeing Ebenezer. I asked Mama if we could come today instead. She said okay but I had to listen to everything she said and do as told. No arguing today or disobeying. I did a good job. Mama said so.” He beamed at me.
“I’m sure you were the best. How did you know to find me here?” I already knew. Grace was there when the police suggested I have the RV moved to the fire station for safekeeping.
“You’re mad.” Abraham stepped back, still holding Ebenezer, gaze skittering around.
“Let me have Ebenezer.”
Abraham held him tighter. Ebenezer squealed and struggled to get free. “Why are you mad? I’m your helper.”
“I know, Abraham. I’m not mad at you. I’m tired. It’s been a long day. Please let me have Ebenezer.” My request only had Abraham wrapping Ebenezer even more firmly in his arms.
Abraham’s eyes widened, and he stumbled backwards. “The dead man is back. Behind you.”
I threw a glare over my shoulder. Brett. Should’ve guessed. He looked nothing like Samuel, but Abraham had only seen a dead man in my RV and he was assuming the man walking out was one and the same. “Go back.”
“Give Merry her pet, Son.” Brett spoke in a quiet and firm manner. His dad voice.
“You’re the mean man.”
“No, he’s not,” I said. “That’s Brett. Raleigh’s dad.”
Abraham smiled. “I like Raleigh.”
“How about you put the hamster…”
“Guinea pig,” Abraham and I corrected.
“Abraham.” Grace’s voice bounced off the open bay area like a shot. Abraham winced and loosened his hold. Ebenezer wiggled from his grasp and tumbled to the floor, making a beeline for underneath a fire truck.
Tears built in his eyes. “I can’t stay the night at Merry’s anymore.”
“No, you can’t.” Her expression softened. She walked over to Abraham and hugged her son tightly. “I love you. You’re a good boy. A good man.”
“But I didn’t listen. I didn’t stay in the car when you went to get Merry’s purse for her from her car like she asked. You couldn’t find it. I thought Merry took it with her and forgot. I was going to have Merry call you.”
Grace winced and shook her head. “I did some things I shouldn’t. Merry knows.”
Red lights filled the bay. The police were here. Paul hovered in the doorway. Brett stood beside me, angled to jump in front of me. It wasn’t necessary. No one was in danger.
Abraham fixed a pleading look on me. “You’ll forgive her, Merry Christmas? Mama won’t stay on the naughty list with you.”
The bay door was lifted. Orville and another officer walked inside, approaching us cautiously, hands near the butt of their weapons.
“Milton Delwood…” I said the name and trailed off, flicking a questioning gaze at Abraham.
Grace nodded. She rose on her toes to cradle her beloved son’s face in her hands. “I broke things that didn’t belong to me. Merry’s things. And I lied to her. I tricked her, so I could take something of hers.”
“Mama, lying is bad.” His voice trembled. “Merry is our friend. You don’t hurt friends.”
“I know, honey.” She looked at me. Pain and sorrow clear in her eyes. “I did what I thought I needed to do for…” She trailed off.
I knew the ending of the sentence. For him. She didn’t want those words to install themselves in Abraham’s head and have him blame himself. I didn’t want that either.
“Ma’am, we need you to come with us.” Orville took hold of her elbow.
Abraham took a step forward to follow. Orville shook his head. “Not you, Son. Just your mom.”
“Mama, where do I go?” Panic laced his words. He swayed back and forth, the tempo increasing. “Where do I sleep? How do I get home?”
“What about his father?” Brett asked.
“He left me and Mama.” Abraham rocked back and forth, panic growing. “He’ll leave me alone again.”
Torrents of tears ran down Grace’s face. “No! He doesn’t deserve a chance to know Abraham.”
Ebenezer ran out from under the truck and sat on Abraham’s feet whistling and shrieking until the young man picked him up.
“Abraham can stay with me,” I said.
“It might be a long time,” Orville said. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I hooked my arm through Abraham’s. “Let’s take Ebenezer home.”
Leaning my forehead on the guestroom door, I fought back tears. It was midnight and Abraham finally settled down and fell asleep. The young man alternated between weeping and raging. He had gotten hold of his mom’s boyfriend, and the guy promised to be in Season’s Greetings on Friday. The man told me he was trying for tomorrow but feared if the snow made it impossible to travel, Abraham would grow more upset. I agreed. It was better for Abraham’s well-being to give him a date that was entirely possible.
What was I going to do? Ebenezer helped soothe Abraham. What would happen tomorrow or Thursday and Grace wasn’t here? Or even months later. How could this be explained to Abraham?
I went back to my bedroom, pacing around the small space. How did all of this happen? I wanted to rail at Samuel. It wasn’t his fault. Nobody forced Grace to make the decision she had. Decision. I had a hard time thinking murder. It didn’t fit Grace’s personality. I couldn’t picture her murdering someone. But she had. She pretty much admitted it tonight. She was careful with what she said as everything was confusing enough to Abraham.
My heart and brain were having a hard time accepting it. A man dead
. Two mothers, a daughter, and a son brokenhearted. All for a stupid ticket that gave a person twelve million dollars. Did Grace still think it was worth it?
I picked up my phone and did something I had never done before. Called Bright.
“Merry?” Her voice was sweet with a musical lilt to it. “Is that really you? I thought you hated chatting on the phone. Is everything okay?”
I burst into tears.
“Did the Grinch steal your Christmas?” Her tone was hard, protective. “If he did, I’ll come after him. I can Halloween it up. I have a broom around somewhere and can portray a witch really good.”
“No,” I hiccupped. Once my breathing was under control I told her everything. Samuel. Cassie. Milton. Grace. Brett.
“Guard your heart right now, honey.”
“I don’t want it to harden.” I used the comforter to swipe away my tears. Rudolph’s nose was now sopping wet.
“You can guard a heart without it becoming hard. Years ago, you told me about a teenager who had a big holiday gift wish. This girl knew it was unlikely that she’d get a car but clung to the tiniest hope that the possibility existed. That gift didn’t come. It didn’t turn her bitter or hardened her heart toward the holiday or make her doubt her parents. She still loved Christmas and the joys that came with it. She didn’t stop believing that dreams could come true, she knew how to let her dreams fly yet keep them grounded. Handle this situation the same as you did your Christmas wishes, see all the good possibilities and accept the reality without it changing you.”
And that was what I didn’t know how to do this time—not let people’s behaviors alter who I was.
Twenty-Seven
This was the worst start to the holiday season I ever had, and that included being left on the church steps on Christmas Eve. At least I had a stocking to protect me from the elements and it was done before the start of the Christmas Eve service. I had a fighting chance for survival. Samuel’s murderer—Grace—killed more than just him and stole so much from so many people, the fallout wasn’t even over yet.
I was starting to understand how Christmas could be ruined for people. The holiday would never be the same for Abraham. He now had a negative memory to the beginning of it and I wasn’t sure it was something he had the ability to get past without his mom. Grace’s boyfriend wasn’t a substitute for her. And neither was I. I tried. I tried hard, but Abraham was depressed, and hints of anger appeared and disappeared.
Right now, he was barricaded in the guest room after I explained to him for what seemed like the thousandth time that his mother wasn’t coming to take him home. He wanted Grace—needed Grace—and she was going to be denied to him for a long, long time. Brett had come over to explain the situation to him but only made things worse. To Abraham, Brett was the man who appeared out of the RV where he had seen a dead man. He had connected the two together and wasn’t able to separate them. I believed part of his confusion was because his mother had never been away from him for so long.
The only source of comfort for Abraham was Ebenezer. As much as I loved and would miss Ebenezer, I was considering allowing Abraham to take my companion home with him.
“I gave her names of some other attorneys,” Brett had told me. “It’s a conflict for me to advise her because…”
“Of me.” I had begged Brett to take her case instead. To help her and Abraham.
He couldn’t. He was heading home before the snow started. I told him he could stay as Raleigh was planning on arriving this afternoon instead of waiting until tomorrow, Thanksgiving. He said it was time he went home and there were other cases demanding his attention.
I knew the truth. The disappointment on my face, and Abraham’s wailing, had broken Brett. This was a situation where justice couldn’t be served without hurting someone who didn’t deserve it. Abraham was losing his mother. His soft place to fall. His protector. It was killing Brett. I saw it in the dejected way he ambled out the door, head down, shoulders slumped. For the first time, Brett looked old and as if life had worn him down.
This afternoon, I felt the same. Old. Tired. Defeated. I stared at the boxes of Christmas paraphernalia filling my living room. Even those items weren’t bringing any joy to me. Sighing, I dropped onto the couch. I still couldn’t believe that Grace killed Samuel. She hadn’t confessed. All she said was that she was looking for the ticket. It wasn’t much to me, but enough, along with the vandalism of my RV, home, and car, for Grayson to hold her.
Half-heartedly, I opened the box for the Christmas tree and lugged it to the corner of the fireplace near the window. I set up the stand then put the bottom part of the six-half-foot pre-lit tree into it.
“Mama gets a living tree. They smell better.” Abraham’s voice came from the top of the stairs.
I tempered my joy, not wanting to scare him off or give the impression that I had great news for him. “I like living trees too. Since I leave trees up for a long time, it’s safer to have the artificial one.”
“Maybe you could get a small living one. Put it up later. They smell good.” He clumped down the stairs. The scratching of nails on the hardwood floors followed him. Ebenezer was keeping close tabs on Abraham.
“That’s a good idea.” I hefted out the second part of the tree.
“I’ll do that for you Merry.”
The shortening of my name brought a rush of tears to my eyes. The trust between me and Abraham had a crack in it. I was no longer Merry Christmas, just Merry. I had helped take his mom from him. “Raleigh will be here tonight.”
Abraham shrugged and finished assembling the tree. There was no joy or excitement in his face. He was going through the motions.
Why, Grace, why?
There was a knock on the front door.
I dabbed the tears away and took in some deep breaths, doing my best to control the despair squeezing at my heart. “I’ll be back.”
Abraham jerked toward the door, hope glittering in his eyes. “We have company? Is it…” He trailed off. The expression on his face let me know he was too scared to voice the hope aloud—his mom was coming for him.
I didn’t venture a guess and hurried to the door before Abraham built his dream up too much. I hated to do anything else that crushed him. I tugged the door open. A cold gust of wind blew in along with my former stepdaughter. Correction, my stepdaughter Cassie. I was still married to her father. The girl was shivering, chilled to the bone. She wore a light sweater, t-shirt, leggings and flip-flops. What was the child thinking?
I snagged the afghan from the back of the couch and wrapped her in it. “What are you doing out in this weather dressed like that? I know you own socks.”
“How would you know?” Her chattering teeth added a strange accompaniment to her words.
“Because I used to do your laundry. Your dad kept you well-supplied with socks.”
Cassie loved socks. It was her thing. I had never seen the child wearing a matching pair as she liked to mix them in complementary pairs. Fox and owl. One pink-striped sock. One gray-striped sock. Cow and a horse. Polar bear and penguin. She loved animals and crazy stripped socks. Samuel loved finding designs his daughter didn’t have. He was so excited one day when he found her a unicorn and dragon pair.
“Want me to start a fire, Merry?”
“Who’s he?” Cassie’s eyes widened, and she huddled into one corner of the couch. She licked her lips. Ebenezer raced around the room, picking up on Cassie’s nervous energy.
“He’s a friend of mine,” I said. “He’s staying with me until a friend of his can pick him up.”
“My mom had to go away.” Tears welled in his eyes. “No one will tell me when she’ll be back.”
Compassion filled Cassie’s eyes. “My dad went away too. He won’t ever be back.”
Abraham sat beside her and took her hands in his. “I’m sorry. My dad went away when I was real little, and
he never came back either.” He pointed at her ankle. “You’re bleeding. Merry, she’s hurt.”
I squatted down and reached for her ankle.
Cassie placed her other foot on top of it. “I’m fine. It’s not bleeding.”
“Let me see.” I pushed at the foot blocking my view.
“You’re not my mother,” she snapped at me.
“Yes, I am.” I snapped back. “Your dad never signed the divorce papers.”
Abraham jumped up from the couch and paced in front of the fire place. Our anger was upsetting him.
“What?” Cassie popped up. Her ankle now in full view as I was still sitting on the floor.
She wasn’t bleeding. She had a tattoo. A mother-daughter tattoo and what Abraham saw was the red from the swirly heart. In the middle were the initials EG and CW. The skin was red and puckered. It was a fresh tattoo.
“When and where did you get this?” I was livid. It looked infected. Why did she get a tattoo for her mom? The woman abandoned her and never looked back. Her dad raised her. Spoiled her. And just died. Why not one for him?
I knew. The rumor about Lynne being back was the truth. The woman had wormed her way into her daughter’s heart. A girl who’d inherit twelve million dollars.
“None of your business,” she sounded panicked.
“Yes, it is. It looks infected. You didn’t let a friend do this to you.”
“Why are you mad, Merry? You think tattoos are bad?” Abraham asked.
“Not if they’re done properly and by experienced tattoo artists,” I said. “And if it’s something the individual wants and wasn’t talked into it.”
“It was.” She rubbed her thumb and ring finger together.
No, it wasn’t. Deep down, Cassie was worried about the reconnection with her mother.
“Where have you been staying?”
“With a friend.” She rubbed her fingers together faster.
“Don’t you mean in my attic or with your mom?”
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