Meadow was nearly speechless when she opened her present and found the Hummel she’d admired when she and Olivia had gone shopping for her dirndl. “Wow,” she breathed. “Really?”
Olivia smiled at her. “I thought you’d like it.”
“I do! Thanks!”
“I saw something like that at Goodwill the other day,” Tawny said. “Didn’t know you were into that stuff.”
“I bet you didn’t see this at Goodwill,” Meadow shot back irritably. “It cost a ton.”
Tawny merely shrugged. Then she reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope and handed it to Meadow with great flourish. “Merry Christmas.”
She had another one for Arielle, who opened the envelope, pulled out a fifty-dollar bill and—check it out, folks—smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Don’t spend it all on pot,” Tawny told her, making her daughter blush and erasing the smile. “Go buy yourself something like that little knickknack your sister got.” As if fifty dollars would cover it.
Meadow also received a fifty-dollar bill. “Thanks, Mom,” she said. Her response was polite, if not brimming with enthusiasm.
“You’re welcome,” Tawny said. “Good old Mama Claus came through again, huh? Who says I don’t do anything for my daughters? Good thing I slipped on that Coke at Burger Babe’s. Otherwise you’d never have been able to have that ski lesson you’d always been dying for and you’d have never met Mr. Beefcake here.” Mr. Beefcake’s face turned red but Tawny didn’t notice. “Too bad the gravy train’s about to end.”
“Maybe you can find someone new to sue,” Arielle sniped. “Or a new boyfriend to throw pop at.”
“Hey, it doesn’t matter who threw the pop. I slipped on it and fell and Burger Babe’s was responsible.”
Brandon’s eyes grew wide and Eric looked disgusted. Brooke swallowed a gasp.
Now Meadow’s face was red. “Guys,” she begged.
Mother and sister ignored her. “And just because you didn’t get to spend the night with your boyfriend, you don’t have to get snotty,” Tawny snapped at Arielle.
“The only reason you dragged me up here is cuz you don’t have a boyfriend. You could have come by yourself.” She had the grace to mutter, “Sorry, Meadow. It’s not like I didn’t want to see you. But I’d promised Tony I’d hang with his family.”
“I get it,” Meadow said.
“I don’t,” Tawny said, frowning. “We’re family, too.”
James and the boys watched the train wreck in shocked silence and Brooke squirmed in her seat. Meadow looked pleadingly at Olivia.
“Well, let’s open some more presents,” Olivia said. “Shall we? James, I think we have something under the tree for Tawny and Arielle.” Too bad it wasn’t gags for their mouths.
“Good idea,” James said and dived for the tree.
“Would you like some more coffee?” Brooke asked Tawny.
“I’ll take some more of that pastry,” Brandon said. “I love this stuff, Mom.”
And so the awkward moment was smoothed over, with everyone chatting away with determination. But Meadow stayed quiet.
Olivia had gotten an iTunes gift card for Arielle, who brought out another rare smile and thanked her.
Tawny was also quick to thank Olivia for her gift, a scented candle. “This will be perfect for New Year’s Eve. I’m having a party and we’re playing that white-elephant game. You know, the one where you steal presents from each other?”
“Jeez, Mom,” Meadow muttered.
“I mean, not that it wasn’t nice of you to get me something,” Tawny added. “I’m just not into candles. Too easy to catch your place on fire, you know.”
“More presents,” James said quickly.
Brandon was more than pleased with the knit scarf Meadow gave him. “I made it myself,” she said. “Your mom taught me how.”
“It’s great, babe. I love it,” he said and kissed her. The look of gratitude he gave Olivia then made her heart fill. He was clearly happy that she’d made the effort to connect with Meadow.
Meadow was equally pleased with the ring Brandon gave her. “I always wanted a ring with my birthstone,” she said and threw her arms around his neck. “You’re the best husband ever.”
“I’d have gotten you one if you’d said something,” Tawny muttered with a frown. She did lose the frown when Meadow handed her and Arielle their presents. More knit scarves. “Don’t tell me—let me guess. You’re learning how to knit,” cracked Tawny.
“I worked hard on those,” Meadow snapped.
“Don’t get me wrong. It’s great,” Tawny said and donned hers.
“Thanks, sis,” Arielle said. “This is awesome.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
A sweet moment. Good. Now, how long could they stretch it out?
Not long. Olivia opened her present from Meadow—a set of cake-decorating tips.
“I thought maybe we could decorate some cakes together,” Meadow said shyly. “I always wanted to learn how to do that.”
“Of course we can,” Olivia told her.
“Cake decorating, what a waste of time,” Tawny said with a flick of her hand. “You do all that work and people just eat it and then poop it out. So all your hard work turns to shit,” she finished and laughed at her cleverness.
Dear Lord, save us. “It was a very thoughtful gift,” Olivia said to Meadow. “They’ll be fun to use.”
Meadow’s face was now so red Olivia was sure the poor girl would burst into flames any minute. She gave her what she hoped was an encouraging smile.
At last the opening of presents was finished. “Mom, can we go now?” Arielle asked, and everyone in the room held their breath.
Tawny rolled her eyes. “I know. The boyfriend. Yeah, I guess we should hit the road.”
No one urged her to stay.
“I’ll help you with your things,” Brandon offered.
“This has been great, Olive,” Tawny said to Olivia. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
Dear God, please, no. Olivia merely smiled and said, “Merry Christmas.”
“Thanks for the gift card,” Arielle said and gave Olivia another fleeting glimpse of a pretty smile as well as the kind of woman she could be with the right influence.
And then, after hugs and kisses for everyone from Tawny, they were gone and the family let out a collective sigh of relief. Except Meadow, who was sitting in her chair, looking at her feet, tears slipping down her cheeks.
Brooke came over and knelt in front of her. “It’s okay, Meadow.”
Meadow shook her head. “No, it’s not. I hate her.”
Olivia slipped into the chair next to her, where Brandon had been sitting. “I don’t think you mean that. You know your mother loves you in her own way.”
“I never realized...” Meadow stopped and bit her lip. She looked at Olivia with teary eyes. “I never realized what I was missing until I met you. I don’t want to be like her. I want to be more than that. I want my life and my kid’s life to be better than what I had growing up.”
“You already are, and it will be,” Brooke assured her.
Olivia should have been the one to say those words. “Brooke’s right,” she said as much to herself as to Meadow. “Now, we have a lot of Christmas left. Let’s make the most of it. Shall we?”
Meadow bit her lip and nodded and wiped at the tears.
“Come on,” Olivia said to her. “How about helping me in the kitchen?”
“I’d like that,” Meadow said.
“Good. Come on, girls, let’s get ready for a wonderful day.” After what they’d all just endured, Olivia was determined to make everything as pleasant and memorable as possible. Especially for Meadow.
* * *<
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Sienna had spent Christmas Eve at Rita’s house with the family and Leo had returned home high on sugar and the anticipation of Santa’s arrival. It had taken forever to settle him down. Tito had come over later and helped her set up the train set from Santa, and come morning, she’d made sure to capture the moment of discovery on her phone and sent it to her parents.
“This is the best Christmas ever!” he’d declared as he’d plopped down in front of the set. Other presents had been ignored as, together, they set the little train racing around the tree. They were still at it when her parents checked in for some phone face time.
She insisted Leo pull himself away from the train set and open his present from his grandparents. Legos. He was delighted. For her they’d sent a Visa gift card as well as a silver necklace.
“I wish we were there with you,” said her mother.
“You are, thanks to technology,” Sienna reminded her.
“What are you two going to do today?” her father asked before her mother could continue her lament.
“We’re just going to hang out.”
“Tim’s coming over,” put in Leo. “Him and me are gonna play with my train,” he added.
“He and I,” Sienna corrected as her son bounced off the couch and back to the tree.
“That nice man you met?” her mother asked.
“Yes.”
“I don’t want you getting involved with any man I haven’t met,” her father said sternly.
Sienna thought back to when her father had threatened the last disaster man in her life with a baseball bat. It was probably a good thing they weren’t living in Icicle Falls.
“Don’t worry, Papi,” she said. “I’ve gotten smarter when it comes to men.”
Her father grunted. “I hope so.”
They chatted a few more minutes and then it was just her and Leo again. And the train set.
And the cinnamon rolls Mrs. Zuckerman had brought over the day before. Yes, it would have been nice to be with all her family, Sienna thought as she helped herself to one, but she had both family and friends here. And the hope of a relationship that might actually work. That would be the best Christmas present of all.
She coaxed Leo into eating a cinnamon roll and then got him dressed, promising him he could play with his train set as soon as he brushed his teeth. With Leo presentable for company, she went to work on herself, showering, then putting on leggings and the new red sweater she’d bought online. After adding makeup and her favorite dangly earrings, she felt good about how she looked.
She felt good, period. Tim was looking forward to coming over and she was looking forward to having him. It wasn’t going to be a fancy Christmas meal—she and Leo had had that the night before. Today was going to be guacamole and chips, pork-and-chorizo pozole and quesadillas. And for dessert, the tres leches cake she’d promised Leo and made the day before.
Everything was ready, including her. Tim would be arriving soon.
Meanwhile, though, Leo had to be entertained. This wasn’t hard, although she got bored watching his train endlessly circling the Christmas tree.
When Leo’s pal Jimmy showed up at the front door with his new sled, wanting Leo to come help him try it out on the small hill next to his yard, she said yes. Burning off some of his holiday energy would be a good thing.
“Don’t go out on the street, though, you two,” Sienna cautioned once Leo was bundled up and raring to go.
“I know,” Jimmy told her. “My mom told me. I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”
She watched from the doorway as they trotted off down the sidewalk past Mrs. Zuckerman’s and smiled. Look who else was making his way down the street. The bottle-shaped gift bag made it easy to figure out where Mr. Cratchett was headed. And he was whistling. Now, there was a true Christmas miracle. God bless that angel, Mrs. Zuckerman, for helping the guy rediscover his heart.
“Merry Christmas, Mr. Cratchett,” she called.
He didn’t say anything but he managed a quick wave. That in itself was impressive.
Sienna smiled as she shut the door. It looked like everyone had someone special to be with this Christmas. But her potential someone special should have been here by now. He’d had to deliver his girls back to their mom this morning. Maybe he was running late.
She made herself an eggnog latte and settled down to listen to her playlist of Christmas songs and read the last bit of Muriel’s book. Half an hour later she finished.
I hope this book has been helpful to you, Muriel wrote, and my wish for you is that you’ll have a truly happy holiday.
She was having a happy holiday, one of the best she’d had in a long time. She glanced at her clock. It was now almost one. Where was Tim?
She was about to call and see when her doorbell rang.
Ah, no need. He was finally there.
And now he was banging on the door, which seemed a little like overkill.
“Hurry up!” yelled a voice.
That was not Tim. A feeling of foreboding threw its net over Sienna.
She opened the door to find Cratchett on her porch, holding a barely conscious Leo, Mrs. Zuckerman at his side.
Chapter Eighteen
Christmas morning always brings surprises.
—Muriel Sterling, A Guide to Happy Holidays
“Leo!” Sienna cried. “Madre de Dios!”
Cratchett brushed past her and staggered into the living room, depositing Leo on the couch. His face was so red from exertion he looked ready for a heart attack.
Sienna fell onto the floor next to her son. “Leo, Leo!” She turned to Cratchett. “What happened?”
He was still trying to get his breath but he managed to speak. “Sledding with the other kid across the street. He hit a tree.”
“With his head?”
“He wasn’t going all that fast.”
“But with his head?”
“He’ll be fine.”
How did Cratchett know?
“Quit standing there jabbering, woman,” he snapped. “Get some ice.”
“I’ll get the ice,” Mrs. Zuckerman offered.
“I’m calling 911,” Sienna said, grabbing her cell.
Meanwhile, Leo was whimpering. And then he was throwing up. The mess hit the couch, the floor and Cratchett’s shoes, something that should have made the old guy’s head pop off. Oh, no.
“Concussion,” Cratchett said calmly. “It’s okay, son. We’ll get you feeling better soon.”
Sienna should have been amazed by Mr. Cratchett’s kindness. She should have apologized for Leo barfing on him. Instead, she begged the 911 operator to get someone to the house right away. “My address?” What was her address?
“Give me the phone,” Cratchett commanded, snatching it from her. He then proceeded to relay the necessary information even as Leo once more upchucked on him. “Stay calm,” he instructed Sienna as he handed the phone back to her.
Calm? Leo’s eyes were closed now. Was he conscious? “Leo, bambino.”
“Kids are tough. Hell, I got a crack on the head when I was a kid. Trying to play Tarzan and swung from a tree. I landed right on my bean.”
Mrs. Zuckerman was back with the ice now, wrapped in a towel. She laid it gently on Leo’s head, and Sienna choked back a sob. “He’s going to be fine,” she assured Sienna.
Of course he would. But emotion and logic rarely danced close in a mother’s heart when her child was hurt. “He’s all I’ve got,” she said in a small voice, and Mrs. Zuckerman hugged her.
“Don’t you worry,” Cratchett said brusquely. “Your boy’s going to be all right.” He walked to the living room window and looked out. “Where are those idiots?”
Yes, where were they? It felt like the ambulance was taking a million
years to get to them.
Sienna was ready to climb out of her skin by the time the ambulance arrived. She stood by, wringing her hands, as the paramedics got busy checking Leo’s vital signs, looking for head lacerations and neck or spine injury.
He moaned under their ministrations and Sienna whimpered.
“His vitals are good, but we’re going to take him to the hospital to get him thoroughly checked,” one of the paramedics told her. “You can ride with us.”
“Lila and I will stay behind and clean things up for you,” Cratchett told her as she followed the stretcher out the door.
She was so upset his kindness barely registered.
The ride with her son to the hospital was the longest one of her life. Waiting in the emergency room for the doctor was torture. She began to feel like she could breathe normally again only after he had examined Leo and assured her he’d be fine.
“I’d like to keep him here overnight for observation, though,” he said, and that wound her up all over again. She called Rita for moral support.
“I’ll be right there,” Rita promised.
It was only after Sienna hung up that she realized the person missing from this holiday picture was Tim. He’d never showed up, never called to explain why. His crotchety uncle had been more help than he had.
And now she’d found his flaw. The man was unreliable.
He eventually did call...right before Rita arrived at the hospital. Leo was getting settled into a room with ice and pain meds, Sienna hovering while the nurse worked, when her cell phone rang. She took his call with an irritability that rivaled his uncle’s.
“Sorry I’m not there yet,” he said. “My ex’s water heater was leaking and I got stuck dealing with the mess when I got there this morning. I’m on my way now.”
“Don’t bother,” Sienna told him.
“Look, I’ll be there soon.”
“No need. We’re not home. I’m at the hospital.”
“The hospital! Are you okay?”
“Not really. Leo had a sledding accident. He ran into a tree and got a concussion. They’re keeping him for observation.”
“Oh, no. The poor kid.”
Christmas in Icicle Falls Page 25
