Blue Christmas (The Moody Blue Trilogy | Book One)

by Moody, Diane

  Hannah turned her head away, anxious to avoid thoughts of where Laura was and who might be there with her. She swallowed hard. Oh God. Please give me strength.

  “Yeah, I probably won’t get to the house ’til around midnight. Is that a problem?”

  Hannah dreaded the hours ahead of her. She searched her heart for courage. She reminded herself of all of Sergio’s pep talks over the past three days.

  “Yes, I’m going to drop her off at Kylie’s. She’s expecting her. We thought it would be safer. How’s everything there on your end?”

  She felt his eyes on her and turned to find she was right. She couldn’t read his thoughts or even begin to imagine what Laura might be telling him.

  “Okay, Laura. Thanks. See you soon.”

  Just then, the pilot entered the cabin, greeting them both with a broad smile. Sergio made the introductions. Brad shook her hand then dropped a newspaper on the small table between them. “Thought you might like to read the latest birdcage liner. You two are quite the scandal, I see,” he quipped as Sergio grabbed the paper. “But at least they didn’t say you were aliens from outer space this time.” He turned toward the cockpit. “We’ll take off in about five minutes, Sergio.”

  Hannah looked at Sergio as he unfolded the tabloid. “Oh no,” he groaned. “Oh no, no, no . . . what the—”

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  He folded the paper and put it in his lap, his face ashen. “I don’t think you should see it. It’s garbage. Not worth the paper it’s printed on.”

  “Hand me the paper, Sergio.”

  “No. Trust me on this, Hannah. You don’t want to see it. It’s just a tabloid. Nobody believes these rags anyway.”

  “Give me the paper. Now!” Her hand trembled as she extended it toward him.

  Reluctantly, he handed the tabloid to her. On the front page in a color spread was a collage of pictures. Hannah was in every one of them. The headline pierced her heart.

  Hannah Does the Blue?

  Jason Dumps Mystery Girlfriend into Sergio’s Waiting Arms

  There she was with Jason at the entrance to the hospital. His arm cradling her to protect her from the throngs of people. Then with Sergio, embracing on the beach . . . lying beside him in the sand . . . holding hands at the restaurant . . . entering a dark motel room together . . .

  Her stomach roiled.

  She tore through the pages to find the story. Her eyes flew over the copy, a ludicrous tale of a brief and passionate “affair” with Jason McKenzie, home for the holidays, nights filled with raucous sex, all under the roof of his parents’ home. The affair supposedly ended once Jason’s long lost love showed up at the hospital. Pictures of Jennifer Crandle in all her glory, splashed across the pages along with reports of her broken engagement “so she could rush to Jason’s side in his hour of need.” More pictures. Jennifer embracing Jason at the hospital. Jennifer kissing Jason, surrounded by family and friends.

  The story continued, placing a love-sick Hannah on a beach in Florida. Rescued by fellow Out of the Blue member, Sergio Cruz, “recently jilted by his psychotic jailbird girlfriend.” More pictures. Sergio and Liza in Hawaii, leis around their necks. Liza, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, hands behind her back in handcuffs, her feet in chains. A forlorn Sergio, standing alone somewhere on a beach. The tale unfolded about “the steamy pairing of two rejected lovers . . . the college coed who won’t be satisfied until she has them all . . .”

  She wadded the paper into a ball and threw it across the cabin. Shelby entered, barely missing the pitch. Hannah snapped open her seat belt. “Where—”

  Shelby pointed to the rear of the cabin, rushing to assist her to the restroom. Hannah made it just in time before throwing up.

  Shelby picked up the intercom. “Brad, hold up. Give us a few minutes. We have a sick passenger back here.” They could hear the engines’ downward whine as the pilot delayed their departure.

  Several minutes later, Hannah emerged from the restroom. Shelby handed her a cool wet cloth and helped her back to her seat. She pulled out a couple of the “party bags” in case she should get sick again and set them on the table. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

  Hannah nodded her head, closing her eyes. She placed the cool cloth over them.

  Shelby fastened the seatbelt for her then addressed Sergio. ”Can we take off or do you want to wait?”

  “No, get us out of here. Now.”

  “Leave me alone!”

  Kylie felt her kitten’s paws clawing at her hair accompanied by a loud symphony of annoyed meows.

  “Katy, leave me alone!” she whined, pulling the comforter over her head. Not to be outsmarted, the cat crawled under the covers, cranking up her purring machine as she pressed her paws on Kylie’s face.

  “What is the matter with you?” she yelled, throwing back the covers. She picked up the cat, not buying the kitten’s look of innocence. Then she heard it. The doorbell was ringing. Not one simple ring. Someone was holding the button down causing a non-stop chiming of the bell.

  Kylie checked her clock. It was five minutes past midnight. She jumped out of bed and climbed into her robe as she hurried into the living room. She peeked out the peephole and jumped back.

  Sergio Cruz!

  Her heart raced. She could feel the heat spreading up her neck.

  Open the door. She knew she should, but she couldn’t. She was too angry.

  “Kylie! Open up! It’s Sergio.” It was an urgent and controlled shout, probably an attempt not to wake her neighbors.

  She turned her back against the door and folded her arms across her chest. How could he come here? How could he even think of coming here?

  The door rattled behind her as he pounded on it. “Kylie! Come on! Open up!”

  She threw open the door. It must have caught him by surprise, his hand still fisted to knock again. Behind him stood Hannah.

  She looks awful. What a surprise.

  Sergio started to walk in. Kylie didn’t move.

  “What is your problem, Kylie? It’s late and we’re exhausted and you have no idea what we’ve—”

  “What? A little too much fun in the sun?” Kylie planted her hands on her hips.

  He stopped cold, searching her face for an explanation. She hoped her sarcasm covered the anger she felt. But more than that, she prayed he couldn’t see the hurt that had riddled her since she picked up the tabloid at the convenience store.

  Hannah picked up her bags and moved around Sergio. “Kylie, please—I just want to go to bed. Can we just—”

  Kylie didn’t budge. “Sorry, Hannah. You know the rule here. No overnight male guests.”

  Hannah looked as if Kylie had slapped her. Then her face crumbled. She pushed Kylie out of the way and ran into the apartment. Sergio followed, grabbing Kylie by the elbow and kicking the door shut behind him.

  “What is the matter with you?! That was out of line, Kylie. Way out of line.”

  He dragged her to the sofa and gently pushed her onto it. He sat on the coffee table directly in front of her, knee to knee. They looked up simultaneously as Hannah slammed the bedroom door.

  “Kylie. Listen to me. If you have one shred of loyalty in your heart—”

  “Loyalty? That’s pretty ironic coming from—”

  He put his hand over her mouth. “Will you please just shut up and listen to me?”

  She glared at him with the meanest eyes she could muster. Then she relented, slowly nodding her head. He lowered his hand.

  “If you care anything at all about your friend in there—the one I believe you once told me was like a sister to you—then I suggest you hear me out. That tabloid is trash. It was all contrived . . . twisted. Nothing happened between Hannah and me. I can’t believe I’m even having to defend myself—or her—because there was—is—nothing between us.”

  Kylie folded her arms again. “How do you explain those pictures?”

  The exasperation on his face startled her. “I tol
d you before I left. I had business in Orlando,” he continued, his tone impatient. “I stopped by to check in on Hannah, talk to her, just like I told you I was going to do. We spent time together between my meetings. We walked on the beach. We talked. Mostly about what she’s been through with Jason. We ate a couple meals together. Kylie, I went as a friend and I’ve come back as a friend. Nothing more. You have to believe that.”

  Kylie rolled her neck, her eyes locked on his face. Seeing that tabloid at the convenience store had thrust her heart into a meat grinder. She didn’t want to believe it but the pictures were too convincing. She thought she knew Hannah better than that. But then she’d remembered—hadn’t she also been charmed by Sergio Cruz herself? So charmed that she betrayed her best friend’s secret whereabouts?

  Hannah had left town so upset, so devastated by what the press had done to her. She was still grieving over the sudden loss of Jason. Of course she would be vulnerable, wouldn’t she? The thoughts, the pictures, the story that accompanied them. And while Kylie knew it probably wasn’t as “steamy” as the paper espoused, she allowed herself to believe that Hannah and Sergio had found comfort in each other’s arms. It actually made sense, considering what Sergio had just been through as well.

  Now she wasn’t so sure.

  “But you were embracing each other! I saw the picture, Sergio. That was hardly a friendly hug.”

  He gripped her pajama-covered knees with both hands. It hurt. “But don’t you get it, Kylie? That’s how these rags work! They take a picture, most of them photoshopped, and put a caption below it to say whatever they want. You know that! Think about it. They could take a picture of the president standing beside some child star, put some bogus caption under it, and the whole world thinks there’s some kind of kinky relationship going on there. They don’t bother with truth because they peddle lies. It’s been done thousands of times to thousands of people.

  “I’m telling you, Kylie, it’s a farce. And instead of being angry at your best friend, you might think about giving her a little credit. She took this really hard. She’s been throwing up all the way home.”

  “She has?” Kylie felt her countenance melt instantly. “But Hannah never throws up. She must be—oh, Sergio, I’m so sorry!” She jumped up, starting toward her bedroom. “I can’t believe I let myself be taken in by all that stuff.”

  He dropped his head back, raising his hands in triumphant resignation. “Finally! Thank God, we’ve got that settled. Why don’t you go see how she’s doing? I think she could really use a friend right now. Besides, I’m starving. You got anything to eat?”

  “How can you even think of eating at a time like this?”

  He opened the cabinets, the refrigerator, then the freezer compartment. “Ah. Cookies & Cream. Want some?”

  “No, but by all means, help yourself.”

  Still, she dreaded facing Hannah after her heartless accusations. Some friend I am! I can’t face her. Not yet. She stalled the apology by turning back toward the kitchen and sitting down at the small kitchen table. She watched as Sergio tried a couple of drawers before he found the utensils, fishing out a large wooden spoon. He didn’t bother finding a bowl.

  “Uh—” Kylie started, watching him dig right into the carton. He looked up at her. She pasted a smile on her face and said nothing. He winked. Oh no. Not that wink again. She felt the blush and prayed it wasn’t splotchy.

  “So what can I do to help her?” she asked. “She’s been through so much. How can I—”

  The bedroom door flew open. Hannah stood in the doorway. Fresh from a shower, she’d changed into plaid PJ bottoms and a thermal shirt, her wet hair wrapped in a towel. “Sergio. You’re still here. Good. I have something I need to say to both of you.”

  She joined them in the kitchen, grabbing a spoon out of the open drawer. She snatched the carton out of Sergio’s hands and scooped a big spoonful before handing it back to him. She pulled out a bar stool and sat down.

  “Kylie, I don’t know what you’re thinking or what—”

  “It’s okay, Hannah,” Kylie interrupted, jumping up to give her a hug. “Sergio explained everything. I’m so sorry I doubted you.”

  “Good. Then I won’t bother with that speech. I’ve made a decision.”

  They both looked at her expectantly. Her tone was unusually assertive. Sergio set the carton of ice cream on the table.

  “I took a long, hard look at myself in the mirror just now. And I didn’t like what a saw at all. I saw a shriveled up, coward of a woman who’s let one too many people stomp all over her. I’ve let them tear me to shreds, reducing me to this . . . this little wuss of a person who just threw her guts up all the way from Florida to North Carolina.

  “And I decided I’m not going to live like this anymore. I’m not gonna take it anymore. Not the press, not the lies, not the harassment . . . and no offense, Sergio, but not even Out of the Blue.”

  He leaned back in his chair.

  “My life has been a total wreck since that night Laura came into my store. I know it was all unintentional. Nobody meant for any of this to happen, but that’s beside the point. I’m sick and tired of being a victim to all of it, and I’m not going to stand for it anymore. I’m done. With all of it.”

  “Well, Hannah, that’s great but—”

  “No, Sergio. Let me finish. Day after tomorrow, I’m going to grab my backpack, go to class, and finish my senior year. If I get hassled every step of the way, then so be it. If the press is camping at my doorstep, let them. If they call me a slut or a tramp or a nymphomaniac, let them. Because I know the truth. I know who Hannah Brooks is, and she’s none of those things. Their words can’t hurt me anymore because I refuse to let them hurt me.”

  “You go girl!” Kylie shouted, shoving her fist into the air. “I am so proud of you! Preach it, sister!”

  “I’m not kidding, Kylie. I’m totally serious.” Hannah’s face mirrored her words. “I will not run and I will not hide. Those days are over. I’m going to get my degree, then I’m going to show the world what real journalism is. Somebody has to make these people accountable for their lies and for the way they flippantly attempt to destroy the lives of others. And I think I’m just the person to do it.”

  “All this from looking in the mirror just now?” Kylie asked, smiling.

  Hannah pulled the towel from her hair and tossed it toward the bedroom door. She shook her head then finger-combed her wet curls and blew out a long, slow breath. “Not entirely. I had a lot of time to think in Florida.” Her angst gave way to a sense of relief. She paused, looking down at her hands. “And, to be honest, I prayed a lot too. More than I ever have.”

  She looked up at Sergio. “It’s really kind of ironic, if you stop and think about it. I’ve learned more about prayer from hanging out with a bunch of rock stars than I ever learned at Sunday school.” She tried to smile, but it just wasn’t there. “I watched what can happen when people pray. I mean, c’mon—Jackson’s miracle didn’t just ‘happen,’ did it? I believe with all my heart God saved him because of the thousands of prayers that went up for him. And I figured, well, maybe God would help me too if I’d ask Him.”

  Hannah stood up and walked to the faucet where she rinsed the spoon and placed it in the sink. “And in spite of everything that went down the last few hours, I refuse to be distracted from what I’ve learned. I feel like this change of heart is a result of those prayers I prayed in Florida. No, I take that back—I don’t just feel it, I know it. Because God showed me I can either roll over and die, or stand up and face the challenge . . . change the direction I’m headed and get on with my life.”

  She turned to face Sergio, her intense exterior completely softened now. “And I don’t think for a minute your trip to Florida was a coincidence. I think God sent me an angel in my time of need. I really do. Thanks for being there for me, Sergio.”

  He stood up, pulling her into a bear hug. “I am so proud of you, Hannah. I knew you had it in you.”


  Kylie piled into the hug. “He’s right, Hannah. Maybe the reason you had to go through all this was to find out who you really are. Find out just what you’re made of. I don’t know much about the prayer stuff, but if that’s what it took, then all I can say is . . . amen, girlfriend!”

  Chapter 27

  “Well, that was . . . different,” Hannah muttered as she slid into her seat beside Kylie in the large auditorium. Well over a hundred UNC students filed into the old lecture hall, climbing row after row up the creaking wooden steps. Far below, in the “pit” on the first level, the professor thumbed through his briefcase retrieving a stack of papers.

  Seated only three rows from the top of the auditorium, Kylie handed Hannah a cup of Starbucks. “But you did it, Hannah. You did it!” she whispered, excitement threading her words. “From the minute you left the apartment, you were cool as a cucumber.”

  “Yeah, yeah. No big deal,” Hannah shrugged, popping open the lid on her vanilla latte.

  “No big deal? Are you kidding me? You rocked, girlfriend! They pelted you with questions. You ignored them,” she continued, doing her best animated sportscaster impression. “They hurled assaults like missiles. You ignored them. They scrambled after you in their mysterious black sedans, tailing you every step of the way to campus. And like the champ, heading into the ring to face your opponent, you—”

  “Okay, okay! I get the picture!” Hannah laughed, crossing her legs.

  “You were amazing,” Kylie whispered loudly.

  Hannah smiled mischievously and blew on her latte before taking a sip. “I was good, wasn’t I, Kylie? Who knew I had it in me?”

  “You were better than good. You were killer good.”

  Hannah slid down into her seat, settling in for the class. “Thank goodness the campus security refused to let them follow us any further. You have no idea how scared I was! I was terrified to open my door this morning!”

  “I know you were but you did it. You did it, Hannah. And now it won’t be so hard the next time. Or the time after that. Until they finally get the message that they can’t offend you any more. I’m telling you, you knocked ’em dead. You were incredible. I am so more proud of you!”