“Can’t. Promised Mom on her death bed I’d screw you out of everything.” His smile was genuine, but it cut to the bone.
“If you’re counting on outing me to Dad on his deathbed, news flash, he knows I’m a lesbian. You won’t be able to pull another Uncle Jerry.” I slugged his arm in lame sibling fashion.
Peter turned whiter than the falling snow. “Y-you know about that?”
I nodded. “Mom gloated about it to my face.”
He turned his head so I couldn’t see his expression. “Does Dad know?” His voice was barely audible.
“Yes. I told him recently.”
“I—” He covered his mouth with his hand, his fingers bright red and the knuckles ghostly white. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Just tell me one thing. Did you come up with the idea yourself, or was it Mom?”
Peter nodded, seeming to understand why I asked. Another gust of wind caused the falling snow to splatter both of our faces. In the midst of the turmoil, he said, “It was me, but she encouraged me once I shared my plan.”
The back of my throat burned. “Thanks.” He appeared puzzled, so I clarified, “Not for the dirty rotten trick but for being honest. It helps in a bizarre way. I can’t explain it.” I swallowed. “I think we should get back inside.”
“I need a second.” He walked to the far end of the deck, the snow crunching underfoot, making me wince as if he was dragging his nails down a chalkboard. At the top of the stairs, he stopped and crossed his arms, keeping his back to me. I couldn’t tell if he was crying, but his shoulders shuddered some. More than likely it was due to the weather.
Inside the house, I shook off the snow, mostly on the mat but a few drops of water sprinkled onto the hardwood floor.
Sarah mouthed, “Everything okay?”
I stared at her, wondering if everything was. I should be pissed. Beyond pissed. But the only emotion swirling inside me was emptiness mixed with an odd sense of relief to have finally confronted Peter about something.
All smiles, Sarah excused herself from Rose and Troy, who now held the twinks in the typical hand-off the twins fashion that happened when everyone gathered, and beelined for me. She steered us to the small powder room off the family room. “The library is taken by Maddie, Gabe, and Ethan,” she explained to my unspoken question. “He’s talking about heading out to see Lisa tomorrow. His fears.”
I nodded, unsure if Sarah was aware we paid for his last-minute flight, which wasn’t cheap. Not that she would give a flying fuck about the cost.
“What happened?” The concern on Sarah’s face increased fivefold.
“A lot.” I scratched the top of my head. “But nothing new.”
Her brow furrowed, and I could tell she was trying to be patient but also cognizant that we had a household full of guests on Christmas Eve. “Can you give me a clue? Is there any truth about—?”
Before she could bring up Tie’s accusation, which for some reason I couldn’t let infiltrate my mind tonight, I interjected, “Uncle Jerry.” I tucked my hands into my armpits to combat the burning tingling sensation now that I was out of the cold.
“Your mom’s brother?”
I confirmed with a nod. “Peter did it. On his own.”
“Wh-what—?” Her dark brown eyes tinged with understanding, making them even darker, not to mention alluring in a smoldering way.
Was that wrong? To find her insanely beautiful at this particular moment?
“How did that come up?” she asked.
I coughed into my shoulder, followed by a sniffle. No, Lizzie, this isn’t the time to get sick, even if you wanted to earlier. Your family needs you to hold everything together. “Um, that’s a good question.” I replayed snippets of the conversation in my head. “He tried to get me to smoke, saying it was his big brotherly duty to corrupt me. I countered he was late to the sibling game. That led us to Peter acknowledging Mom wasn’t nice to me and he wasn’t either.” I closed my eyes to zero in on the crucial piece. “Then, I asked if he’d stop trying to steal my inheritance, and I ended up joking he wouldn’t be able to pull an Uncle Jerry with Dad since he knew I was gay. That’s how I ended up here.” I motioned to the powder room, with a tiny Christmas tree on the counter with battery-operated red and green lights. “Oh, he also mentioned you bring out the best in me.”
Sarah sized me up. She’d been trying to get me to open up more, especially with my father and brother. I was 99.78 percent sure she hadn’t meant for me to do it on Christmas Eve when this particular evening was already brimming on exploding into a shitstorm.
But, I’d learned in therapy, things surfaced when you least expected them to.
“Wow,” she said.
“I’m sorry.” I rested my forehead on her shoulder. “You’ve worked so hard to make this day special, and everyone, including me, is intent on ruining it.”
She wrapped her arms around me. “It’s okay. I’ve learned to roll with the punches with this family.”
I pulled back. “I need to talk to Dad. Peter asked if he knew and—that upset him the most.” I reached for the doorknob. Over my shoulder, I asked, “How’s Tie?”
“Calm.” Sarah’s expression confirmed a calm Tie was more dangerous than an angry one. “I think she got the outcome she wanted out of Peter tonight. Now all of us have to wait and see what she intends to do with everything. I don’t trust her one bit. Nor do I trust Peter.”
I kissed Sarah’s cheek and left in search of my father in the living room.
He held Demi, who was sound asleep.
“Hey there.” I brushed the hair off Demi’s forehead, careful not to wake her. “Her crib is set up. Shall we take her upstairs to let her sleep?”
“Are you okay?” He peered at me with his unusually perceptive eyes.
“Did Peter talk to you?”
Without another word, he made way for the staircase, with me in tow.
It didn’t take long to settle Demi, snuggling peacefully on top of the soft sheet with baby elephants.
Outside the nursery, I motioned for Dad to enter a spare bedroom at the top of the stairs. He took a seat in the charcoal gray microfiber chair.
I perched on the edge of the bed, crossing my arms.
Dad didn’t speak.
Staring at a montage of small framed black and white photos on the wall above his head, I said, “I wanted to give you the heads-up about Peter.” I queried his face, trying to determine if I was too late. Unable to decipher his poker-face, I asked, “Has he talked to you in the last ten minutes?”
Dad shook his head.
“I told him I knew about Uncle Jerry—how he outed me for my portion of the inheritance.”
“I see.” His face remained stoic, but his shoulders slumped a smidge.
“He knows that you know. Peter asked, and I didn’t want to—”
Dad nodded. “You did the right thing. There’s been enough intrigue and lying.” He slanted his head. “Are you okay?”
I retightened my ponytail to the point where all the hair was almost painfully constricted. “I really don’t know. This night hasn’t gone according to plan.”
Right then, Sarah hollered loud enough for those in the North Pole to hear, “Okay, everyone. Get your jackets. We’re going caroling in five minutes.”
A hint of a smile appeared on Dad’s face. “I’ll stay with Demi. Can you tell Peter to join me?”
In the entryway, I spied Peter huddling by the umbrella stand, trying his best to blend into the surroundings so his wife wouldn’t see him. All those years, it had been me hiding. I sidled up next to him and whispered Dad was in the guest room and wanted to speak to him. He trudged up the stairs, looking like a child on his way to receive a whipping.
Sarah noticed, but she had her everything’s jolly smile firmly in place. “I’ll get the twins ready.” She led them upstairs, their chubby legs slowly taking one step at a time. Given it was Christmas Eve, their usual bedtime had been thrown out the window.
Maddie slipped next to me and whispered in my ear, “Sarah’s insane. The storm is really kicking up.”
I shrugged. “Caroling is on the schedule for seven sharp, followed by dinner at eight fifteen, after putting the twins down for bed at eight.”
Pulling on his jacket, Ethan asked, “How many air mattresses do you own? I got an alert that I-25 may close.”
My neck nearly snapped when I whipped around to look out the open front door. “Are you telling me everyone who doesn’t live in Fort Collins may have to stay the night?” My mind tallied potential overnight guests, but I couldn’t get past two names and the implication of waking up on Christmas morning with Peter and Tie. That was if one didn’t kill the other in the middle of the night. How would I explain that to detectives? Well, we knew it was possible, but the roads were closed so we locked them in the basement together, hoping none of us would get caught in the crosshairs.
I fucking hated Christmas with my family!
“Gabe doesn’t think we should try to drive to my apartment. And my parents flight for early tomorrow has already been cancelled. They’re hoping to arrive on the twenty-sixth for our week in Vail.” Maddie gave me her aren’t you thrilled Sarah planned this party sarcastic smirk.
Ethan checked his phone. “My flight is still on.”
“It’s later in the day. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Maddie assured him.
My mind could only focus on the house guests currently under my roof. “Okay. Rose and Troy are only a few blocks away. They can walk home,” I said in hopes that would be the case hours from now.
“Lizzie!” Ethan and Maddie screeched, more for effect than concern.
Ignoring them, I started to concoct a plan to have Tie stay with Rose. Should I ship Ethan and Peter to George’s across the street? Or would that snowball into the two starting a divorce club?
“Do we really have to go caroling?” Casey whined. “It’s so cold out.” She exaggerated a shiver and fell into my legs.
I hunched down. “We don’t have a lot of time. What do you want?”
“Are you bribing me?” Her eyes grew three sizes.
“Absolutely.”
She bit the tip of her index finger. “I have been wanting a microscope.”
“Done!” I stuck out my hand, which she shook.
Ethan said, “I think I’ll stay behind and ensure the turkey doesn’t catch fire.”
Casey waved for her father to bend over, and she whispered in his ear.
Ethan turned to me with keen interest. “I hear—”
I stabbed the air with a palm. “Spit it out. I have a few more people to take care of before Sarah returns. Casey, are you taking notes of all the promises? God knows my mind is spent.”
She tapped the side of her head. “Gotcha covered.”
“The Harry Potter books,” Ethan blurted.
I widened my eyes. “Wasn’t expecting that, but okay.”
Casey nudged my leg. “He’s asking for me.”
Tie bustled closer, shrugging her coat on. “This is fun. Isn’t this fun? I need to use the bathroom before we head out.”
Casey and I smiled as if in tune. Not having to bribe Tie was a victory.
Maddie was a different matter. Tapping her fingertips together, she said in a mafioso-like voice, “I hear you’re the one I need to talk to.”
I shook a fist at Ethan. “What?” I asked Maddie.
“A panorama lens for my camera.”
I glanced down at Casey, and she indicated Maddie’s request was seared into her memory bank.
Gabe and Allen stood behind Maddie.
“Really, my own brothers?” I groaned.
“Broncos tickets,” Gabe said without an ounce of chagrin. “Any game.”
“The latest book on the Russian Revolution,” Allen said in all seriousness.
“Okay, Dad and Peter are staying. Who’s next?”
Helen raised her hand. “A massage.”
Rose chimed in, “I choose that as well.” She turned to Helen. “We should go together. With Sarah.”
George, with a blank face but in a keen voice said, “A new dog bed for Gandhi.”
I sighed. Funny, when he needed to be, he was completely lucid. “Okay, Troy, you’re the last one. Your demand?”
Troy stroked his chin. “I don’t really mind going out and singing. I think it’s a nice thing to do on Christmas Eve.”
“You hear that, everyone? Troy is the only decent family member. The rest of you, I’ve got your number.” I circled my index finger in the air.
“Not scared of you, Lizzie. Ever.” Maddie leaned into Gabe’s chest.
“What did I miss?” Tie asked, straightening her jacket. I wouldn’t put it past the woman to steal anything and everything from the powder room.
“N-nothing,” I stammered, relieved no one had filled her in.
Sarah descended the stairs with the twins bundled into puffy navy-blue snowsuits. “What’s going on?”
“We’re all super excited to sing our hearts out,” I said with too much exuberance, but Sarah was busy making sure Ollie didn’t trip Fred on the stairs and didn’t catch my mistake.
“Lizzie, will you lead the way? I’ll bring up the rear.” Sarah gave me her don’t argue glare.
“Follow me, merry carolers.” I led the motley crew to the first victims’, I mean neighbors’ house.
After the group gathered in the entryway and walked to Betty’s house, the neighbor who’d considered me insane after I threatened to murder Gandhi— George’s dog not the Indian leader who was already dead—I rang the bell.
Ralph, her husband, answered.
Sarah burst into “Jingle Bells,” the rest of us joining in out of fear for our lives. At least, that was my motivation. Since I considered it was cruel and unusual punishment for anyone to hear me sing, I mouthed the words.
Ralph and Betty, with their arms laced around each other’s waist, grinned and swayed to the music. When we finished, Betty said, “That was lovely. Thank you.” Her smile turned into a grimace when her eyes swept mine, but she adjusted when blocking me from her sight. “I feel like we should reward you. Hold on.” She dashed inside, returning with a fruitcake loaf. She thrust it at me.
It weighed a ton, and I wondered if she’d planned to take me out with it all along. “Uh, thanks. We’ll put this to good use.” I envisioned knocking some heads if anyone got out of line later.
“At nine sharp, we’re having champagne if you want to join us,” Sarah said, rallying the troops to move to the next house.
Was she going to invite the whole fricking neighborhood for champagne? How many bottles did we have in the basement fridge? Had she planned this all along? Should I be this upset for Sarah’s jolliness?
No, I shouldn’t. Clearly.
The next house was a neighbor I didn’t know, meaning I hadn’t offended or shocked them in any way. That I knew of.
Maddie, maybe in tune with my sour mood, took over the doorbell ringing duty. This house had the honor of hearing one of my favorite Christmas tunes, “Little Drummer Boy.”
While it was one of my faves, it quickly became apparent I didn’t know the words and I wasn’t in the minority. Most of us consulted the music sheets Sarah had provided, each encased in protective plastic. She really had prepared for every eventuality, including caroling into what was quickly reaching blizzard conditions.
Much to my surprise, Ethan not only knew all the words, but with his soulful voice, eyes closed, and one hand holding Casey’s tightly, he was moving to watch. The rest of us stuck with “Pa rum pum pum pum” while he did the heavy lifting.
Once again, Sarah invited the man and woman, whose names I hadn’t caught, for champagne. This time, Maddie quirked a brow at me. Okay, if Maddie thought it insane to invite every Tom, Dick, and Harry to the party, maybe I wasn’t irked for all the wrong reasons.
Before we reached the final house at the end of the street, I looped my arm through Sara
h’s and whispered in her ear, “What are you doing?”
“Caroling.” Her voice was shaky at best.
“And inviting everyone for champagne. Why?” I practically had my mouth pressed to her ear.
Sarah sucked in a deep breath. “It’s Christmas.”
“Not buying that,” I said through a smile since Allen and Gabe turned around to see if we’d overheard a joke they’d cracked since both men were laughing. “And most neighbors are with their own families.”
Sarah broke free from my grasp and led the group to the next house, forcing me to hoof it to match her stride.
“What’s going on? Really?” I asked. “Why are you inviting the world back to the house?”
“Please, I’ve only invited a few people. Not the world.”
“Talk to me. I know this wasn’t on the schedule.” I gambled it wasn’t.
Through gritted teeth, she said, “Because nothing is going right tonight. I’m hoping if more people come, it’ll stall whatever’s brewing next for the worst Petrie Christmas in history.” Sarah rested her head against mine.
Her plan wasn’t all that bad if the Petries were your typical family. And adding Tie into the mix was potentially the spark that’d ignite the powder keg, destroying everyone in her wake.
“Do I need to make a champagne run?” I asked in an effort to show my support. Conjuring a way to get the car out of the driveway was a concern.
Sarah gave my cheek a quick peck. “Got it covered.”
Of course, she did.
I nodded, understanding her thoughts. “What can I do, Sarah?”
“Kill Tie or Peter. I’ll let you take your pick.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t start with capital murder.”
“Does Colorado have the death penalty?” she asked in a rational voice.
“I’m pretty sure it does.”
“Oh, well, don’t do that, then.”
We reached the house before I could figure out if her murder request had been sincere.
Even in jest, it made one thing absolutely clear. Tie and Peter were a disease. If not treated soon, they’d kill us all. Not literally. At least, I didn’t think so. The earlier basement scenario played in my head again. Maybe that was the solution. Lock them up and see who survived.
A Woman Loved Page 10
