This was Grandma’s house?
FIFTEEN
A moment later, a thin sixty-something man in jeans and a sweatshirt appeared on the front porch. His hair was gray and thinning, and his chin was covered with gray stubble. A cigarette dangled from his mouth and he held a shotgun by his side. Grandpa.
“Can I help you?” he called in a tone of voice that added, Off my property.
Zach wasn’t sure which looked more helpful, the pit bull or the shotgun. “I need a tree.”
The man’s lips turned down. “Are you blind? Didn’t you see the sign? We’re closed.”
“I know, but I’m desperate,” Zach called back. “This is for my family. Their house burned down last night and they’re staying with me. And I don’t have a tree,” he added. Not having a tree hadn’t bothered him before. Now he found himself embarrassed to have to confess it, even to old Father Christmas here.
The man shook his head in disgust and waved Zach away. “Well, then. Get one.”
“How much?” Zach called.
“Just take one and get out of here,” the guy said and then turned his back on Zach.
You didn’t have to tell Zach twice. He trotted off down the road, the dog wishing him a Merry Christmas and good riddance.
“Can we get one?” asked Natalie when he returned.
“Absolutely.”
“They were closed. How’d you do that?” Kendra asked, impressed.
“I’ve got connections,” Zach joked. He went around to the back of the Land Rover and grabbed his ax. “Let’s go.”
“Uh, Zach, we’re not exactly dressed for this, remember?” Kendra informed him.
“The ground’s pretty much frozen.” Zach stamped the gravel drive with his boot to prove it. “You should be okay for a few minutes. Come on. Help me pick one.”
Kendra nodded and got out. Natalie remained in the backseat.
Kendra opened the door. “Come on, Nat.”
Natalie shrugged. “You guys go on. I’ll wait.”
She looked like she was going to cry again.
“Come on, sis,” Zach urged. “You’re the one with the creative eye. Help us out here.”
Natalie didn’t smile but she did get out of the car. That was something. He gave her a hug and then led the way through the rows of manicured trees.
Natalie roused herself enough to help with the process but, once inside the car, her lips retreated from smile territory and she clammed up. Kendra and Zach exchanged glances. “It’ll be okay,” Zach repeated, both to himself and Kendra.
* * *
Back home they set up the tree and Zach hauled his ornaments out of the attic. Tom sat on the back of the couch, supervising, his tail switching back and forth as they worked. However, when Queenie made her appearance, the little guy lost all interest in the tree and hopped off the couch to sniff noses and give her sooty fur a lick.
Kendra stepped back to admire their handiwork. “Not bad,” she said with an approving smile.
Natalie managed a nod. “How do you think Daddy’s doing?” she asked in a small voice.
Probably better than she is, thought Zach. “Let’s find out,” he said. He opened the coat closet and tossed coats to the girls. “Come on. We’ll go sing him some Christmas carols.”
Christmas in the hospital wasn’t what anyone had planned, but it sure beat sitting around looking at his half-decked tree. And right now the best present he could give Natalie would be to take her to see her dad.
Correction. Their dad.
* * *
“I win again,” crowed Liz.
Christmas dinner was done, and Merilee and her sisters had been entertaining the younger generation with an old card game the family had been playing for years. Later in the evening would come the more adult games, such as Trivial Pursuit.
Gloria pointed a finger at Liz. “Either you cheated or you’re a witch,” she accused, making their little nieces giggle. “Nobody wins that much at Black Peter.”
“That’s for sure,” said Merilee, grabbing for the makeup remover to take off the collection of black smudges she had on her nose that represented all the rounds she’d lost.
“She’s just good,” said Lance, Liz’s adoring fiancé.
Gloria rolled her eyes. “Love is blind.”
“Let’s play Sorry next,” said Annabelle, the oldest niece.
“Let’s take a break first,” said Gloria, taking the makeup remover from Merilee.
A break. That was code for the sisters slipping away to the sunroom with cups of cocoa and talking about their love lives. Her sisters would expect Merilee to have something to share. They’d been trying to worm details out of her ever since the night before, in between singing carols and attending Christmas Eve service. She’d managed to stall them so far but there’d be no more stalling once they settled in with their cocoa.
“I should probably go,” she decided. The minute the words were out of her mouth she knew she’d made a tactical error.
Sure enough. Gloria’s eyes narrowed. “You never leave this early.”
“Got somewhere to go?” asked Liz, waggling her eyebrows.
Gloria grabbed Merilee’s arm and hauled her away from the dining room table. “Not until she talks to us, she doesn’t.”
Five minutes later they had their mugs of cocoa and were in the sunroom with the door closed, cuddled under hand-crocheted afghans on comfy, overstuffed chairs while a winter sun pushed away the clouds and smiled in through the windows.
“Sooo, how’s the man shopping going?” Liz asked. “We’re all ears,” she added, giving the new pink pearl earrings Lance had given her a flick.
Merilee couldn’t look either of her sisters in the face. All that money they’d spent on her big makeover had been a complete waste. She gazed into her mug.
“Okay, I’m guessing not good,” said Gloria.
Merilee sighed and looked up. “I’m not sure this is going to work for me.”
“You have to give it a chance,” said Liz. “You just signed up. And you know what they say. You’ve got to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince.”
What did “they” say to do when you found your prince but he was a relationship-phobe who came complete with cold feet? Correction, make that frozen feet. “I already met my first frog,” she said.
“I think there’s a story here,” Liz said, grinning and leaning forward. “Spill.”
Merilee told them about Chuck and, empathetic sisters that they were, they laughed till they cried.
“You’ll find someone,” said Gloria, wiping her eyes. “Meanwhile just have fun. I am.”
Fun. Was that what you called it? Bah, humbug.
* * *
Natalie actually smiled as they all stepped into the hospital elevator. “He’s going to be all right.” It was half statement, half question.
Mom hugged her. “Of course, he is. He’ll be home tomorrow in time for dinner. We’ll go out in the morning and get a ham and all the trimmings to go with it.”
“And let’s make another red velvet cake,” suggested Kendra.
“Good idea. That’s my favorite,” said Zach.
Kendra grinned at him. “I know. That’s why I suggested it.”
He found himself smiling, too.
Kendra heaved a tired sigh as they made their way across the lobby. “I can hardly wait to hit the mall and get some new clothes. The jacket is great,” she told Zach, “but not my size.” She held up a floppy arm in which her hand was completely lost.
Both girls were swimming in his jackets. Mom had refused the offer of a coat and was shivering in her sweater.
Natalie’s blue eyes suddenly got saucer big. “How are we going to pay for anything?”
Of course, no purses, no credit cards. No nothing. “You can use my MasterCard,” said Zach.
“I’m sure Mr. Gorton at the bank will be able to help us,” said Mom. “I think you’ve already done enough.”
“You’re family
,” he said. “Since when is there a limit to how much a guy is supposed to do for his family?” Where had that come from? Someplace new, for sure.
“Thanks, sweetie,” she murmured. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
He could feel his throat tightening, but he managed to say, “No problem.”
“We’ve got a surprise for you,” Natalie said to Mom once they were on their way home.
“I think I’ve had enough surprises,” she said.
“No, you’ll like this one,” Natalie assured her.
Back at Zach’s they ushered her into the house and Natalie ran over to turn on his crook-necked desk lamp, which they’d set up on the mantle and aimed at the tree. It was the best they could do given that he didn’t own a string of lights.
The makeshift spotlight illuminated a rather pitiful tree, consisting of a couple of strings of gold beads and the ornaments from his early childhood. But Mom managed to feign awe and wonder. “It’s lovely,” she said. She smiled at Zach. “I knew a tree would look perfect in your bay window.”
“I want a picture of this one for my Facebook page,” teased Kendra. The words were barely out of her mouth when her smile collapsed.
“My pictures, all gone,” Mom said, and tears began to leak from her eyes.
That got both the girls crying again, too, and suddenly they were all in a female huddle, sobbing, while Zach stood frozen next to his tacky tree, feeling awkward and useless. WWMD? What would Merilee do? He wished he knew because he suspected whatever she’d do it would be the right thing.
The loss of the family photo albums was the material possession people mourned the most after a fire. It was the one thing that would tempt a woman back inside a burning house. It was also one thing a firefighter couldn’t help with.
Except this time. Suddenly he knew exactly how he could help.
SIXTEEN
Ambrose and Zach were back in the treasure room again, this time with Mom.
Why were they here? Not that Ambrose minded. He was just … curious. He watched with interest as Zach opened the box he had found when they were last up here.
Obviously, he had discovered something important to Zach. It was important to Mom, too. Ambrose could tell by the way she caught her breath and put a hand to her mouth.
He’d seen that human gesture before. Moms made it when they were moved by something. Zach was moved, too, judging from the way he was looking all pleased with himself. (As if he were the one who had knocked that box open and not Ambrose—humans loved to take credit for things they didn’t do.)
Speaking of humans, Ambrose still wasn’t sure why all these extra members of the species were in the house. He knew something bad had happened because they had arrived smelling like smoke and crying.
They hadn’t arrived alone. They’d brought Aphrodite. She could stay as long as she wanted as far as Ambrose was concerned. They’d made up in the night while the humans slept and Ambrose took that as a sign that his nice, long ninth life was right around the corner.
But meanwhile, what was the significance of that book Zach had given Mom? And how did it affect Ambrose? He crept closer hoping to learn what was going on.
* * *
Mom opened the old photo album Zach had handed her and smiled. “Look how cute you were. And David—what an adorable pair!” Her smile faded.
Was she thinking of what could have been? He didn’t ask. There was no point.
She turned the page. “And, speaking of cute.”
He looked over her shoulder to see a skinny kid sitting at the kitchen table, his dorky smile displaying two missing front teeth. On the table in front of him sat a cake shaped like a robot. That had been a perfect Beaver Cleaver birthday. Dad had still been around. They’d still been a family. What would their lives have been like if Mom and Dad had stayed together?
“You loved that cake,” said Mom.
“It was a cool cake.”
She turned to a new page and there was the picture of Zach and David and Zach’s buddy Henry and Henry’s sister Anna, all on the front porch, right along with Aunt Leslie.
Mom quickly turned the page, but Zach reached out and turned it back. “What happened with Aunt Leslie?”
“She moved, honey,” Mom said, her voice matter-of-fact.
“Why?”
“Zach, people move.”
Zach frowned. Way to state the obvious. “You were best friends.” And then they weren’t. “You two had a fight, I remember. What did you fight about?”
Now Mom’s face had turned to stone. “Nothing that concerns you,” she said stiffly.
“Well, it concerned me at the time. I lost my best friend. One day we were all buddies and the next thing I knew they were moving.” That had been the beginning of the end, when the ground under their feet first shifted and cracked. In a matter of months his perfect world crumbled. Mom stopped smiling. The fuse on her temper grew short. Four months later, Dad moved out.
Wait a minute.
No, don’t go there. That thought was way off base. There couldn’t be a connection between Aunt Leslie’s sudden move and Dad’s departure. Zach didn’t want there to be a connection, and his brain shied away from the nasty thought.
But his gut couldn’t let go. “I’m beginning to think it still concerns me. What really happened?” He didn’t want to know. Why was he asking?
Except he needed to know. It probably wasn’t what he thought it was anyway. If it was he’d have figured it out long before this.
Or not. Maybe he never wanted to solve the mystery of his father’s sudden departure. That would have been too painful. It had been easier to blame Mom.
“Zach, this is ancient history,” she said. She slapped the photo album shut and started to rise.
He caught her arm. “It may be ancient history, but it’s our history. Mom—” He didn’t want to say the words but now he had to. “Did Aunt Leslie and Dad…”
His mother bit her lip and dropped her gaze.
“Oh, God.” Zach felt suddenly sick.
“Children don’t need to know everything that happens between grown-ups,” Mom said.
“I thought you left him. All these years you let me blame you, make you the bad guy.” Why had she done that?
She managed a small shrug. “In a way it was my fault.”
“Your fault!”
“Your father felt terrible afterward. He wanted to try and put it behind us, start again. So did I. I tried, but I just couldn’t get past it.” Tom crept over to her and she scratched behind his ear. “I didn’t see the point in telling you boys. You didn’t need to hear bad things about your father from me. Our relationship was ruined but I didn’t want to poison yours.”
Zach ran a hand through his hair. “All this time … Mom, I’m sorry.” He was going to cry. He was a grown man and he was going to cry, just like he did after Dad moved out. So many nights he’d buried his face in his pillow and shed angry tears about the unfairness of the whole thing, racking his brain to figure out what he or David could have done to make Dad want to leave.
Mom put her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” he said, the words coming out in an angry rush. “God, Mom. He cheated on you with your best friend.”
“He made a mistake, one he’s regretted all his life. We all make mistakes, Zach. I wish we didn’t, but we do. Your father and I have both paid dearly for ours.”
Zach shook his head. “It was such a shock when he left. We had a good life before. You seemed happy.”
“We were. Once.”
“It never lasts for anyone,” Zach muttered.
“Yes, it does.” Now she sounded angry. “Zach, look at me.”
He felt like he was eight years old again, about to get a lecture. He had to force himself to meet her gaze.
Her expression turned earnest. “It can and does last. Yes, things went sour between your father and me. But then I found Al and he’s been
a wonderful husband and we’ve been happy together. Love isn’t always the most stable emotion, but when you find the right person it’s the best of life’s prizes. You have to take a chance.”
“It’s a big chance.”
She smiled. “Yes, it is, but when it pays off you win big. I took a chance moving back,” she added softly. “And I’m so glad I did.”
This was all too much to process. His head was going to explode.
“Honey, a person really only has two choices. You can wander through life safe and alone or you can take a risk.”
“I think I’ll wander.”
“Then I’m afraid you’ll miss out,” she said simply.
A certain sweet face with big green eyes and kissable lips came to mind. He shook his head in an effort to dislodge it but it remained like a psychic burr.
“It’s cold up here,” he decided. He rose and held out a hand to his mother. “Come on. Let’s go downstairs and I’ll make a fire.”
The rest of the day was filled with good Christmas experiences. The chief stopped by with an envelope full of cash courtesy of the guys at the station so Mom and the Steps could get new clothes. Mom’s friends from the old neighborhood tracked her down and came to the front porch caroling and delivering a holiday feast as well as money and presents. One family had put together a basket of DVDs for the Steps.
As Zach stood looking at happy couples and their kids singing “Joy to the World,” the little face with the big green eyes whispered, “That could be us.”
Wishful thinking, he replied.
“That was awesome,” said Natalie after the last batch of visitors left.
“Let’s eat this turkey while it’s still warm,” suggested Mom.
“And watch a movie,” added Kendra.
Zach tried not to cringe when she plucked Mamma Mia from the basket, in his opinion, one of the dumbest flicks ever made. “I should probably run by the station,” he said.
“Oh, no,” said Kendra, grabbing him by the shirt. “The chief gave you the day off to spend with your family. That’s us, in case you didn’t notice.”
The Nine Lives of Christmas Page 17
