Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance)

by Chautona Havig

  “Never say out until after the instructions are complete. Trust me on this.”

  “Now he tells me,” she muttered as Luke jumped out of the van, calling for the children to stop chasing the dogs.

  Ian babbled happily in his seat while Aggie watched the melee with a mixture of irritation and amusement. The kids were going to be frozen and likely a mess. Miner dashed into the street and spun around in a frenzy, chasing his tail. Three children raced into the street without even a glance to see if anyone might have decided to use it as a thoroughfare to their homes.

  “Ian, that dog will—wait! Is that Kenzie’s snow boot?” Aggie rolled down the window and shouted, “Drop it, Sammie!”

  The dog obediently dropped the half-chewed boot and bounded to join her brother. Luke strolled past with an apologetic expression on his face. Children flew past him on their way to capture their escape artist pooches. She didn’t hear what he said, but disappointed faces turned toward the van and soon it filled with chattering Stuarts. Without half a dozen playmates making the chase into a game, Sammie and Miner followed Luke into the back yard.

  “Was that your snow boot, Kenzie?”

  “Yeah, I wondered where it went.”

  “How did the dog get it in the first place? I can’t imagine that you took it off while you were playing outside.”

  The answer was written across the child’s guilty face. “Well, it was cold, but I wanted to pet the dogs, so I closed the door to the house and let them come in the mudroom. One of them must have taken it with them when they went back to their pen.”

  “And you didn’t happen to mention that you couldn’t find your snow boot, why?”

  The girl’s face nearly glowed red. “Well, I kind of wondered and thought I’d get in trouble. I hoped the other one would get too small first.”

  “Kenzie…”

  Luke pulled himself into the van again and put the vehicle in gear. “Well, we’re going to need a new section of fence. Sammie has managed to dig under the buried wire.”

  “She’s smart,” Tavish observed with pride that is usually shown by doting fathers.

  “She’s a nuisance.” At the crestfallen look on the boy’s face, Aggie added begrudgingly, “But she’s a smart nuisance.”

  “Can we get a tree now?”

  “Yes, Lorna. I think getting a tree now would be a great way to forget this mess.”

  “Happy birthday to EllieandTavish, happy birthday to—” Lorna glanced around her. “Come on! We should sing! Happy birthday to…”

  Once they turned onto the highway, Aggie glanced back at the forlorn looking puppies sitting alone in their pen. Somehow, the affection she’d once felt for the animals was gone. Then, in a move that seemed designed to garner all the sympathy possible, Sammie laid her head on Miner’s as if to comfort him. “Dratted dogs.”

  “Did you say something, Mibs?”

  “Nothing worth repeating,” she muttered.

  ~*~*~*~

  Squeals pierced the air as the family traipsed indoors with the first live tree of the Stuart-Milliken household. Vannie and Laird thundered down the basement steps without even removing their coats, eager to find the lights and ornaments. By the time Aggie hung up her own coat and disentangled Ian from his bundles, the floor was littered with parkas, mittens, and scarves.

  “Hey, get over here and hang these things up. What’s with you? Were you born in a barn?”

  The joke usually caused good-natured protests, but this time Tavish turned and said, “What’s wrong with that? Jesus was.”

  “Very funny, young man. Get it all put away. I’ll make hot chocolate. Where’s Tina?”

  The answer was on the whiteboard on the fridge. Tina was out with William. “Well,” she muttered to herself, “at least one of us can enjoy some time alone with a good guy.”

  “What?” Luke stood in the doorway.

  “You heard me.”

  “Yep. I like it too. Thought you should know.” With that, he disappeared again while Aggie continued to dump hot chocolate powder into mugs.

  “The lights! They found the lights and the garland!”

  “Yippie doodle,” she muttered under her breath.

  Aggie gripped the counter and took a deep breath. Whatever was causing the sarcasm and irritation had to end. There was no reason to ruin the day for everyone else. The tea kettle whistled and she poured the water, singing, “Silent night… holy night… all is calm… all is bright…”

  Wrapping the tree became a comedy of errors. While Luke struggled to attach enough lights to satisfy the children, Aggie attempted to knock it over half a dozen times but succeeded only once. “What is wrong with this thing? It won’t stay standing! I think we bought a bum stand.”

  “It is a bit wobb—oh, look.” Luke pointed. “We’ve got the legs upside down.”

  “If we ever use another real tree again,” she muttered as her face received a pine needle exfoliation process, “I suggest we buy that big round one that doesn’t need assembly.”

  “Deal.”

  The lights shone beautifully even in the full sunlight. At night it would light the room! Aggie pointed to the boxes. “Those are the ornaments, right?”

  “Yes, but we always put the new ones on first,” Vannie explained.

  “New ones?”

  “The new ones we get each Christmas. Mommy always—never mind. Laird,” she said turning to her brother, “why don’t you pull out Ian—I mean Cari and Lorna’s.”

  “Why not Ian?”

  “Because he only has one,” the girl hissed.

  “But aren’t we going to put the new ones up—”

  “She didn’t get them. That was Mommy’s tradition. Just get the boxes,” Vannie insisted, tears beginning to choke her.

  “What did I miss?” Aggie stared at the group waiting for information, but no one seemed willing to speak. “Come on, something is wrong. What is it?”

  “It’s just something Mommy always did. We’re so used to it that we forgot you might not know.” Vannie handed an ornament to Cari. “Here, you put the first one on.”

  “What don’t I know?”

  Ellie stepped close and pulled Aggie close enough to whisper, “Mommy always bought us a new ornament to put on the tree every Christmas. We always did that first so…”

  “I’ll be right back.” Seven faces stared back at her, Ian too absorbed in destroying ornament boxes to care. “Our tradition will just be to put the new ones on last. That’ll save your mom’s tradition for her while still continuing it. Meanwhile, rescue those boxes or the ornaments won’t make it until next year.”

  Luke tried to stop her, but Aggie waved him off. She climbed into the van and took off down the road, unsure where to go first. Her fingers punched the button to call her mom and then she switched it to speaker. “Mom?”

  “She’s taking a nap. What’s up?”

  “Dad, I blew it. The kids expected new ornaments for the tree today and I just didn’t know so there they were all waiting and I had nothing. I don’t even know what kind of ornaments to get or where to look. I am guessing balls in a box of twelve aren’t going to cut it. I left without looking. How did Vannie get to be twelve years old without me ever going to their house for Christmas?”

  “You did go—just before they moved into the mausoleum, remember? When they still lived in the nice little ranch in Westbury. You know, the one they lived in while she restored the Rockland house?”

  “Vaguely. Why didn’t she invite us to the big house?”

  “Because of Geraldine. The woman was a nightmare and away from there was safer.”

  That felt familiar anyway. Aggie sighed. “That doesn’t tell me about ornaments.”

  “Sorry. Can’t help you and I bet Mom can’t either. Well, maybe that’s not true,” he amended. “I think we might have Christmas cards or pictures here. Want me to look?”

  The mental picture of her father weeping over memories of Christmases past was too much for he
r. “Oh, I’ll just call Luke and see what he’s finding in the boxes. That’ll help. I should go.”

  “You’re doing great, Aggie. That you even try is important to those kids.”

  It didn’t feel as though she was doing adequately much less “great.” However, there was no time for pity parties. Bedtime was soon enough to allow herself to dissolve into a fit or two of tears. Perhaps a nice shower before bed. It was a safe place to cry with the noise drowning out her sobs and the water hiding all traces of them.

  “Luke, have you seen the ornaments yet?”

  “The ones you’re getting?”

  “Of course not. Come on, this isn’t funny. I’ve got kids who expect a lousy Christmas as it is. Get me some help here.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “What do the ornaments look like?”

  His confusion seemed to have culminated in an echo. “Look like?”

  “Yes! Are they plastic? Metal? Glass? What about themes? Elegant? Cute? Country? Traditional? Can you zip me some pictures? Get someone to tell you about theirs.”

  A few pictures arrived while Luke talked to Ellie and Vannie about theirs and what made them special. She heard the door shut and the wind outside and realized this had to be serious. “Um, Mibs?”

  “Just tell me.”

  “They’re special to the year. There’s the baby’s first Christmas ones. Those are pretty self-explanatory. There are ones that look like a favorite book that year or a hobby. From the way they describe it, Allie found things that fit an interest of each year and then scoured places for the right one until she found it.”

  The moment he spoke, she remembered one shopping trip where Allie had found a miniature Mother Goose book of nursery rhymes and decided to make it into Kenzie’s Christmas ornament that year. “Oh yeah. I remember. This is not going to be easy.”

  “Come back. They understand. Really.”

  “They do, but I don’t. I’ve got to try.”

  ~*~*~*~

  Aggie dragged herself up the steps, dreading the onslaught of excited children. She’d disappoint them. Again. When the door didn’t burst open, she frowned. Did they know she wouldn’t find the right ones? Surely not.

  It’s not like I didn’t try, she defended inwardly. I did. I went to every store in Brunswick—practically. It was no use. Despite her best efforts she’d failed. Maybe she could make it to Rockland the next day and try the Christmas store in the mall.

  The soft sounds of violins playing Away in a Manger greeted her—but seconds later, she heard Luke’s quiet voice reading Luke chapter two. “…but Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart…”

  A lump swelled in her throat. She was not like another Mary that day—no, Martha had somehow possessed her until all she could do was run to and fro, busy with things that did not truly matter. Luke had the right emphasis. He knew what was important and what wasn’t.

  The picture was almost surreal, as if out of a movie set. The music could not have played a more perfect song, and the children seated around his chair, hanging over the back, starry-eyed and looking particularly innocent and charming in their pajamas—it was almost as if Christmas Eve had arrived two weeks early.

  “Aunt Aggie!” Kenzie rushed her, flinging arms around her. “Did you find them? Where are the ornaments?”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t. I’ll have to try tomorrow. I’m so sorry.”

  The children all said the right things. It didn’t matter; they were happy; it was a great birthday for Ellie and Tavish and that’s what mattered. However, their faces told the true story. They were disappointed. She’d have to try again.

  Tina breezed in the door and surveyed the family. “What is everyone doing up this late. Scurry off to bed. Go. I’ll be up to tuck you in—”

  She never had the chance to finish. Vannie fled upstairs, tears flooding her eyes and cheeks. Ellie followed. Laird, shook his head and choked out, “Girls,” before he too pounded up the stairs. Tavish shrugged and grabbed Kenzie’s hand as the girl picked up on the wave of emotion that seemed to flow over everyone. Cari and Lorna exchanged glances and their subsequent wails were loud enough to stir Ian who had been sleeping on Luke’s chest.

  Aggie sat on the arm of the couch and closed her eyes, begging the Lord for patience and wisdom—not to mention a healthy dose of self-control. Her own emotions were nearly ready to choke her to death. Tina glanced around once more and went into action. “I’ve got this.”

  As Luke soothed the baby back to sleep, he stood. His hand squeezed her shoulder in passing. “It’ll be ok,” he whispered.

  His feet disappeared up the stairs at precisely the moment she realized that she hated that phrase. People said everything would be ok, but it never was. Never. Every time some old problem was resolved, a new one arose. Her life was one series of crises and solutions to slide her into a new crisis.

  She hadn’t moved by the time Luke crept back down the stairs. From the look on his face she was certain that he’d soothed a few wounded hearts as well. Epic fail, Aggie.

  “Are they going to forgive me—really?”

  Luke gathered her into his arms and held her, his cheek resting atop her head. “This isn’t about the ornaments. You know that, don’t you?”

  “What is it about then?” She didn’t believe him, but anything sounded better than another failure on her part.

  “It’s about missing their parents. It was a familiar memory—one they really remember well, and so it all blew out of proportion.”

  “Great, and I took off to take care of the thing that wasn’t the thing instead of being here for them.”

  His arms tightened around her. “You’re determined to be the bad, bad Aunt Aggie. Is it possible that you’re hurting today?”

  “Of course, I’m hurting! I failed my kids!”

  “No, you didn’t. You gave them a wonderful day. Had you remembered the ornaments, the tears still would have been there, but instead you would be hurt because they lashed out at you for trying to step into their mother’s traditions. You could have done no right today.”

  “But I could have tried!” The first sob nearly undid her. “You’d better go before I lose it.”

  “I won’t go until after you do. C’mon. Come sit with me. You need a good sob-fest.”

  A thought produced a snicker and then a sigh. At Luke’s urging she finally said, “I was thinking that marrying a man who has four sisters is going to mean that he has an unfair insight into females.”

  “Some women would consider that an advantage.”

  She snickered. “You’d think, right? You forgot you were dealing with an inept mother of eight—at twenty-three years old.”

  “Stop, Mibs.” He waited until she looked at him and whispered, “Don’t do it. You are beating yourself up for things that aren’t true.”

  “They feel true.”

  “That I can’t argue, but feelings, no matter how real—”

  “Lie, I know. I tell myself that,” Aggie said, “but I don’t always believe me.”

  Tina skipped downstairs and collapsed on the couch. “Oy. It’s been so long since we’ve had an eruption, I forgot how draining they are.” She frowned. “And now I’m doing the oy thing. How about ugh? Yeah. Ugh.” Her eyes caught Aggie’s and she sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “Don’t worry about it. Right now I’ve got to figure out how to find ornaments that will have meaning to them.”

  Head cocked, Tina gazed at Luke and Aggie. You guys are so cute. These kids are lucky—ok blessed, Miss Gotta-give-credit-to-the-Almighty—to have both of you.”

  “Great. They’re blessed. Ornaments. Focus.”

  “Yes, Miss Terse.”

  Luke snickered. “I thought she was Miss Gotta-give—”

  “Very funny. Why—” Tina’s phone rang. “Weird. It’s my mom. Since when does she call? I’ll be back.” She clicked the phone on and answered it. “Hey, Mom, what—”

  “Wel
l, so much for her help. What are your ideas?”

  “Um, I have a feeling you are going to get sick of this, but my first instinct is to call my mom.”

  Without hesitation, Aggie pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed. “I think the truth of it,” she said while the phone rang, “is that you will get sick of me calling her—or she will.” Aggie snickered. “Your mom says she will not.”

  Several minutes later, Aggie stowed her phone back in her pocket. “Ok, we’re making them. It’ll be special, they’ll draw names and voila.”

  “Once you started talking, that was my guess. Mom is into making memories together. Corinne’s husband is always saying, ‘It’s still a memory if you just buy the piñata or have the party at the pizza place rather than making them or creating it all.’”

  “I think there’s a time for both.” Aggie’s mind swirled with the idea of doing everything with eight children. It made her dizzy and nauseous. “If I tried to do it all with them, I’d go crazy. That’s probably why Allie didn’t. But, I bet her perfectionism probably meant that she didn’t do it as much as she could have.”

  “Perfectionist, eh?”

  “Yeah. Just a bit. She’d go nuts in this house.”

  Luke nodded slowly, as if understanding something for the first time. “I think the kids like the more relaxed atmosphere.”

  “Relaxed? You can’t be more opposite than we were. She is elastic that cuts off your circulation. I’m elastic that drops your unders around your ankles.”

  “I haven’t seen anyone tripping over anything, so you’re good.”

  Aggie buried her head into Luke’s shoulder. “Allie wouldn’t think so. She’d think I was lazy.”

  “She knew what she was choosing when she chose you.”

  Tina’s door banged open and a suitcase rolled behind her. With her purse slung over one shoulder, she grabbed for her coat and stumbled toward the door. Aggie hurried to her side. “What’s wrong?”

  “My dad had a heart attack. Mom’s flipping out and—”

  “Do you want me to drive you?”

  Both women looked at Luke as if he’d lost his senses. Tina found her voice first. “Why?”