On Christmas Eve

by Thomas Kinkade

  Using the landline was tricky. She knew Lucy wouldn’t mind if she called people, but she didn’t want anyone to know her business. Not Lucy Bates. Not even Rita. So she had to sneak calls when no one was around and hope they wouldn’t come barging in. She often just had to leave messages for friends who couldn’t even call her back. The real problem was not being able to text anymore. That was the way she and her friends really communicated, and you couldn’t do that with a dumb old landline.

  She didn’t mind coming downstairs if Lucy was home. Or if she was alone in the house. But she didn’t like it if they were all here. A few times, Lucy had asked her to have supper with them. But Zoey pretended she was too tired or felt sick. She wasn’t part of this family. The two boys stared at her as if she had landed from another planet. She had barely said two words to either of them. The little guy was okay. But the older kid didn’t seem to like her, on sight. Like his father, Zoey thought.

  It didn’t matter. She would be leaving here any day now. As soon as Rita found another foster home to dump her in. She couldn’t wait until she was old enough to live by herself. She was going to take off and get as far from this part of the country as she could. She would have done it long ago if it wasn’t for her little brother. She hated to leave him without even saying good-bye. But she wasn’t even sure where he was living now.

  Lucy had left a while ago for work, and the boys weren’t home yet from school. Zoey decided to go down to the kitchen for a bite of food. She was starting to get her appetite back. The real trick was finding anything good to eat around here. It was all so disgustingly healthy. She felt like she would kill for a potato chip or a french fry.

  Zoey reached the second floor and was about to turn on the landing, but the open door to Lucy and Charlie’s bedroom caught her eye. Why not use the phone and call her best friend, Caitlin?

  She walked over and pushed the door open all the way. It was a pretty room, she thought. The walls were a pale yellow color with a wallpaper border, and the quilt on the bed was the same shade of yellow, with pale blue flowers. The bed was made up neatly, with tons of pillows on top. The rest of the room was neat, too. No dirty clothes or wet towels hanging around. She could have predicted that. Lucy was very organized. The house was as clean as a hospital, Zoey thought; a lot cleaner than most of the places she had lived in.

  As Zoey walked to the side of the bed with the phone, she passed Lucy’s dresser. There was a large wood-framed mirror above it and a crystal dish that held jewelry and rings. It seemed to be all costume jewelry, no good stuff. She tried on a large silver ring with a blue stone in the middle. It wasn’t worth much, but it was pretty. And it fit pretty good, too.

  But if she walked off with it, Lucy was sure to notice and realize who had taken it. It wasn’t really worth it, Zoey thought. She didn’t like it that much.

  She slipped the ring off, sifted through a few necklaces, and then looked over the perfume selection. She picked up a large red bottle with a big gold ball on top and sniffed. It had a strong, spicy scent. She knew it was pretty good stuff, because she had tried some once in a department store. She lifted her chin and gave herself a good spray—then had to cough.

  The smell was too strong and seemed to go straight to her lungs, screwing up her breathing. Zoey held on to the dresser, coughing her head off, trying to catch her breath.

  “Hey, what are you doing in here?”

  Zoey spun around and the perfume bottle flew out of her hands and hit the carpet. “Oh no!” She quickly bent down to see if it had broken. Then she turned to glare at Jamie, who now stood right behind her.

  “Why did you shout at me like that? See what you made me do?” Zoey coughed again, trying to show him how sick she was, but he didn’t look very sympathetic.

  “What are you doing messing around in my mom’s room? You shouldn’t be in here.”

  “Just chill,” she said, catching her breath. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

  Zoey found the bottle and picked it up. It wasn’t broken or even chipped, thank goodness. She put it back on the dresser right where she found it, then turned to Jamie.

  “Don’t worry. Your mom doesn’t care if I come in here.”

  Jamie stared at her with narrowed eyes. “Okay, so then it doesn’t matter if I tell her when she comes home that you were in here, going through her stuff.”

  Zoey stared at him. This kid was a pain.

  “She won’t care. I’ll tell her you were bothering me,” she countered. Zoey acted fearless but still didn’t want the kid to tell on her. “How old are you anyway?”

  “I’m eleven.” He announced the number loudly. “How old are you?”

  “Fifteen,” she told him, then thought she should have exaggerated a little and said she was older. He wouldn’t have known the difference.

  He looked at her curiously. “Why don’t you go to school? Because you’re sick?”

  Zoey shook her head. “I wouldn’t go anyway. I’m finished with school. I already know everything.”

  “Yeah, right,” Jamie scoffed.

  “What’s so great about school? The stuff they teach you is totally useless. It doesn’t help at all in real life,” she told him. “But you wouldn’t know about that.”

  He was a little baby, protected in this nice, little house by his nice, little family. Like a little puppy dog, she thought. His older brother was not much further along. Just bigger, louder, and bossier.

  Jamie stared at her a moment. “I’m going down to make some popcorn. You want some?”

  Zoey was surprised. “I can get some food for myself. Your mom said it was okay.”

  “I know. She told me to help you when I got home. I’m just trying to do what she said.”

  Zoey didn’t answer him. She ducked her head and jammed her hands in her bathrobe—partly to keep from walking off with the silver ring. It still looked pretty tempting to her.

  “Yeah, I’d like popcorn. I am a little hungry.”

  A short time later they were sitting in the kitchen that adjoined a large family room.

  Jamie had made microwave popcorn, and they divided it between two large bowls. Jamie started eating his right away, but Zoey added extras—melted butter and Parmesan cheese.

  “Ugh. That’s gross.” Jamie made a face. “I can’t believe you put cheese on it. It smells like baby puke.”

  “Are you kidding? I think it tastes gross, just dry like that. That’s like eating foam.”

  Jamie walked over to the TV and set up his video game. “Do you mind if I play without the earphones? I can’t find them.”

  “Knock yourself out.” Zoey shrugged and ate her popcorn, watching from the stool at the counter. The game was a little noisy but cool to watch on the big-screen TV.

  She’d bet her brother would love one of those things. She wondered if he had one where he was living now. Probably not. Foster families didn’t have a lot of extras for the kids. If they had anything good, everyone fought over it so much, it was either taken away or got broken pretty quickly.

  “You’re pretty good at that,” she observed, wiping her fingers on a napkin.

  “Thanks. It takes a certain skill,” he said in a surprisingly grown-up tone. “Want to try it?”

  “Me?”

  “It’s not rocket science. Girls can probably do this . . . a little.”

  “Of course girls can do it. They just don’t want to.” Zoey slipped off the stool and sat next to him. “What the heck. Let me at it.”

  She didn’t have anything better to do except go back upstairs. Maybe if I play this stupid game with him, he won’t say anything to his mother about finding me in her room, she thought.

  Working the controls was harder than it looked. She wasn’t very good with eye-hand things, and she usually had to hear instructions for something new over and over again before anything sank in. But Jamie was a patient teacher. He never acted like he thought she was dumb, which Zoey appreciated.

  She knew that she was d
umb. A real dolt. Everybody said so. All her teachers and her mother and her foster parents, too, though most of them never said it right to her face. They just treated her like some idiot child. That was why she had hated school and couldn’t wait to get out. She got tired of feeling as if everyone was talking to her in a foreign language, then laughing behind her back at how slow she was to catch on. Or giving her those big pitiful stares. She hated that the most.

  “Oh, man . . . you got that guy good. Did you see the way his pod exploded? Awesome.” Jamie leaned so far to one side, laughing, that he almost tipped over.

  Zoey had made a good shot. The points showed on the screen along with some wild space sounds.

  They played a full game and Jamie cranked it up a level. “Ready for the next dimension? This level is freaking wild. It goes even faster.”

  “Sure, I’ll try it.” Zoey hoped she would be able to keep up.

  They were sitting on the floor side by side, holding their controls. Jamie turned on the next level of the game. “I hope it doesn’t give you nightmares. It’s definitely scarier. They go through this time warp, and there are all these space zombies.”

  She laughed at him. “I won’t get nightmares, don’t worry.”

  “That’s what you say now. Even C.J. gets creeped out,” he said very seriously. “Don’t tell him I told you,” he added.

  Zoey laughed at him again. “You remind me of my brother, Kevin,” she said impulsively. “You’re just about the same age.”

  “Where is he?” Jamie asked. “Does he still live in the place you ran away from?”

  “He never went there with me. He had to go live with another family.”

  Jamie gave her a puzzled look. He missed a good shot, and a monster bit his character’s head off. “That’s weird. Why couldn’t you live together? He’s your brother.”

  “It doesn’t work like that once your family falls apart. My mom . . . My mom got sick,” she said simply. “And she couldn’t take care of us anymore. So first we lived with my grandmother and then with my aunt. When that didn’t work out we had to go to separate places.” She paused and took a breath. “It’s complicated.”

  “It sounds complicated,” Jamie said, focusing on the game again. “Sometimes I get really mad at my dad and think about running away. That would show him. But I probably wouldn’t do it. My mom would worry too much, even if I was just fooling around.”

  “That’s smart. Don’t do it. You could really get hurt,” Zoey warned him. “Your father is sort of a jerk. But your mom is nice. You and your brother have it pretty good here. Nice house, your own room with all your own stuff. Lots of good food, you can eat all day if you want. Nobody is yelling at you, either. You’ve got video games and a computer and a cell phone. You don’t have it too bad, believe me.”

  Before Jamie could answer, they heard the back door open. Lucy called out, “I’m home. Anybody around?” She walked into the kitchen and set some grocery bags on the counter.

  “Hello, Zoey. I’m glad to see you up and around. How do you feel?”

  “I’m doing okay.” Zoey put down the controls from the video game and walked over to Lucy. “Jamie was teaching me how to play his game.”

  “How did it go? Did you find a new partner, Jamie?” Lucy asked her son.

  He kept working the controls on his own and barely looked up at her. “She’s not so bad. She has some potential. For a female.”

  Zoey laughed, then looked back at Lucy. “It sort of gave me a headache. I don’t know how he sits there that long.”

  “Neither do I. But he loves it.”

  “I’m feeling a little tired again. I think I’ll go back upstairs for a while.”

  “Sure, hon. You have a rest. I’m going to start dinner. Would you like to eat with us, or should I bring you up a tray?”

  Zoey wasn’t sure what to say. She was obviously feeling better and didn’t want to hurt Lucy’s feelings. But she still didn’t like the idea of sitting down at the Bateses’ table and being stuck there with all of them. Especially, being stuck listening to Charlie, who either acted as if she were invisible or just gave her nasty looks.

  “I’m not sure,” she answered. “Can I tell you later?”

  “Of course. See how you feel.” Lucy had already begun emptying the dishwasher. Zoey felt an impulse to help her. She always had jobs to do in the places she used to live. As far as she could see, the boys got off pretty easy around here. Lucy would ask them to help her with housework, but they usually weaseled out of it and Lucy ended up doing it all on her own. They didn’t seem to notice. But Zoey did. Lucy turned to give Zoey a brief smile. “We’re having roast chicken. You like that, right?”

  Zoey nodded. She did like it but was still surprised when Lucy asked her preferences.

  “Okay, I’ll call you when it’s ready,” Lucy said brightly.

  Zoey nodded again, then headed back upstairs.

  “Jamie, you need to shut down the game now and start your homework,” Lucy called to her son.

  Zoey passed Jamie and paused. “Thanks for the popcorn and teaching me your game.”

  He shrugged. “No big deal.” Then he gave her a look, and Zoey knew he wasn’t going to tell Lucy on her. She felt relieved. He did remind her of her brother. She hadn’t said that just to get on his good side.

  A SHORT TIME LATER, LUCY CAME DOWNSTAIRS AGAIN AFTER BRINGING Zoey a tray. Charlie and the boys were at the table, ready and waiting for their dinner. “Zoey’s asleep,” Lucy reported. “She probably got tired staying up so much this afternoon with Jamie. But it’s a good sign. She must be feeling much better.”

  Lucy took a platter of roast chicken out of the oven, along with bowls of green beans and roasted potatoes. The boys passed the bowls of food around while Charlie carved the chicken.

  “I guess she’s over her flu or whatever it was,” Charlie said loudly. “Now what? Don’t we call the social worker and send her on her way?”

  That was more or less what she had agreed to, Lucy knew. But she still didn’t like the idea.

  “There’s some improvement, Charlie. That doesn’t mean she’s fully recovered and ready to go. She’s been very sick. She could relapse in a day.”

  “Oh, baloney.” Charlie filled his dish with food. “We had an agreement, Lucy. And you have to stick to it. We’d be asking for trouble, letting that girl stay. What will she do—sit around the house all day and watch TV? Fool around on the computer? Get into trouble with no one home to watch her? We’re darn lucky we’ve gotten this far with no problems, and that’s only because she’s been so sick, she could hardly get out of bed.”

  Lucy knew that her husband had a point. She just didn’t like the way he put it. Any teenager left home alone for hours on end was bound to get into some mischief. Lucy had shifted her schedule around so that she could spend time at home during the day to be with Zoey. But she couldn’t do that forever.

  Lucy helped herself to some chicken. “I’ve been thinking about it, Charlie, and I have an idea. But Zoey would have to agree to it.”

  “Oh, here we go,” Charlie appealed to the kitchen ceiling. “Lucy has another idea. Can’t a guy get a break around here?”

  “If you’ll stop carrying on,” Lucy said calmly, “I’ll tell you what it is. Why don’t you just listen a minute before you start complaining? My idea will help you, too.”

  “That will be the day. Okay, shoot. What’s the latest scheme, Lucy?”

  “What if she gets a job—even a little part-time job that would get her out of the house for a few hours? She would have more structure to her day and some responsibility. Would that satisfy you, Charlie? Would you let her stay longer if she had a job somewhere?”

  “A job? I never thought of that,” Charlie admitted. He picked up a drumstick with his fork and dropped it on his plate. “A job would be good for her. She ought to be earning her way if she doesn’t want to finish school. But who’s going to hire her? Did you figure that out?”

&n
bsp; “You could,” Lucy said brightly. “You’re always shorthanded at the diner, and it’s always busy around the holidays. You need an extra waitress.”

  “I’m going to hire her?” Charlie laughed. “I should have guessed that.”

  “It doesn’t have to be the diner,” Lucy continued. “A lot of places in the village need help for the holidays. I could go around and talk to some of the shopkeepers—Grace Hegman, maybe, or the Beans. The Beanery is always busy.”

  Felicity and Jonathan Bean, who ran the Beanery, were Charlie’s arch-rivals. Lucy knew the mere mention of their names pushed all of his buttons.

  “I didn’t say she couldn’t work at the diner,” he said gruffly. “But does she even want to? I don’t want to feel like I’m forcing it on her. She’ll just give me that look and be a slacker.”

  Lucy didn’t want to force Zoey into the idea either or make her feel she had to work for her room and board. “I know what you mean, Charlie. I totally agree.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?” Charlie couldn’t hide his surprise. “Well . . . that’s a first.”

  “She said that once she felt better, she wanted to make some money,” Lucy explained.

  In order to hit the road again, Lucy had no doubt. But they didn’t really have any say over what Zoey did with her life. She would only be with them a short time. All Lucy could do was try to give the girl the kindness and unconditional acceptance that she so desperately needed.

  It would be difficult, if not impossible, to explain these things to Charlie, Lucy knew. But at least he was warming up to the waitressing idea.

  “Won’t you just try her out, Charlie? I mean, if she’s willing. This means a lot to me, to help this girl. I really need you to do this.”

  She watched his expression. Charlie did love her; she knew that. He also resisted any kind of change to his routine or household. She could see him wrestling with the idea. He looked at her and then back at his food again.