North Oak 3- Morning Glory

by Ann Hunter

  Laura lying in bed like that all banged up and in stitches did something to Alex. It was more than feeling guilt ridden for distracting her while driving. It made her think of Ashley before she died. She had been really sick once, and DeGelder refused to get her medicine, insisting Ashley was faking it. It was all in Ashley’s head, and she could get out of that bed whenever she wanted to.

  But Ashley’s raging fever and ghost-pale face told Alex otherwise. If DeGelder wouldn’t get Ashley the help she needed, Alex would. So she had snuck out to do whatever she had to in order to get medicine.

  It wasn’t the first time she had stolen from the corner store. Stuffing cough syrup, those pills that brought your fever down, and some orange juice in her coat, wasn’t the stupidest or most dangerous thing she’d done for Ashley either. She’d do anything for her. Whatever she needed in order to protect the only family she knew.

  And here she was now, wondering what she could do for the only family she had. Not even sure where she fit within it anymore, with Hillary acting like she didn’t exist. She didn’t have to steal medicine for Laura. Alex felt powerless.

  Old instincts that told her to keep moving got Alex out of the chair. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, shoulders hunkered, and meandered down the hall. She felt like she traveled blindly, wherever her feet took her. When she looked up, she stood across from panels of glass, gazing into a room full of babies.

  They were so tiny. Alex envied their innocence momentarily. All of them clean slates, with parents that wanted them. Those newborns had never known hunger, or abuse, or what it was like to be locked up in jail. That innocence, that potential, all the love they already had poured into them, with unlimited futures. So much wonder in each little being.

  Alex tucked her lip, gnawing at the skin. How old had she been when her parents ditched her? What kind of life would she have had if they kept her? How different would it be than North Oak?

  She wouldn’t have Laura, or Carol, or Brooke, or Promenade. Was it all worth going back to if she didn’t have a family to share it with? If she could never show Hillary she was worthy of being in the family again?

  Why did she need a mother’s love anyway? Because these dumb babies had it? Because Alex felt like it was something she didn’t have?

  She kicked herself inside, feeling guilty for being selfish. You couldn’t have everything. Life didn’t play nice like that. A darker part of herself reminded her that she was still that girl willing to do stupid things for the people she loved. But the swirl of her future at North Oak blurred that. She had changed since coming to the farm, and her world was changing too.

  When Alex woke in her own bed at home, she wondered how she had gotten there. The last few days had been exhausting, taking shifts with Hillary and Cade at the hospital watching Laura. Had someone thrown her in a car when she was asleep?

  And what day was it?

  She wiped the eye crust from her eyes and edged up on her elbows. Snow fell silently outside, blanketing the farm. It had to be at least shin deep. There was something serene about it, piling on top of fence boards and posts, hugging gray tree limbs against a sky sketched with orange, pink, and blue.

  It was still early, not even a hoofprint marked the white pasture adjacent from the Showmans’ home. Alex’s eyebrows squished together at a dull throb in her head. She rubbed her neck. The smell of something coyingly sweet wafted upstairs into her room. She pushed back the covers, and peeked out her door.

  Cade was downstairs in a ridiculous holiday apron, waltzing around the kitchen from appliance to appliance, plating food. I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas played softly.

  Alex crept down the stairs, and paused at the bottom. When Cade saw her, he broke into a grin and whispered, “Merry Christmas, Sport.”

  He placed a plate on a tray laden with a glass of red liquid and a few other goodies. “I made orange rolls, eggnog french toast, eggs, and bacon.”

  He untied the apron, and removed it, before wiping his hands and motioning Alex over. “It’s been a rough few days. Why don’t we take this up to your mom?”

  Her mom. Hillary didn’t feel like much of a mom with how invisible she’d made Alex feel. Alex wanted to blurt that she didn’t have a mom, but thought better of it as Cade lifted the tray from the table and headed toward her. She moved aside and followed him to his room.

  The last time she thought about stepping into their room was to rob them the night she had arrived over a year ago. She’d never been near the door since. Now she poked her head just inside and watched Cade cross to his wife.

  The light hit her in such a way that Alex could see the strain of motherhood catching up with her, carved into her face by both laugh and worry lines, and yet she was still pretty. Alex grimaced, still feeling awkward admitting that. She slipped in past the door, knowing she was welcome, but wishing she were invited closer.

  Cade kissed Hillary on the cheek and settled the tray over her lap when she sat up. He sat on the edge of the bed beside her, speaking quietly.

  Alex gnawed her lip, feeling all too invisible again like she had at the hospital. Would it be rude to clear her throat or something so they’d notice her? She leaned against a dresser by the door and picked at her nails, worried Hillary would shoo her if she said anything.

  She didn’t think this was the Christmas that Laura had been talking about. Though she didn’t want to say so then, Alex had thought it sounded kind of nice. Like a real family. Would anything have changed if she had admitted it? When Hillary had trusted her with the money, and it seemed like so much more, should Alex have run back in and told her what it meant to her?

  After standing there a while, with all those questions only confusing her more, Alex wasn’t sure any of it would have mattered. She snuck out the door as silently as the snow fall, and pressed herself against the wall outside, squeezing her eyes shut. She wondered if she’d done anything wrong recently to earn this exclusion. Were her grades not good enough? She had been trying really hard in school, given the fact that she still struggled with reading and math. And she’d tried harder yet to stay out of trouble. She was a good kid, wasn’t she? Where did she go wrong?

  Alex moved away from their room and headed downstairs. Grabbing an orange roll, she pulled on the paddock boots she had gotten for her birthday and snuck out to the training barn to see Promenade.

  She grabbed a bridle from the tack room, opened the door to his stall, and slipped him a peppermint before bridling him. Fighting back the hurt inside her, she swung on to his back from a large boulder outside. They bashed through a spray of snow past the high pasture at the end of the farm, and into the grove.

  It had been green and wonderful when Laura had first taken her there. A place to find solace and peace, and to think. Now it was simply a barren place where icicles dripped from bony branches. Even the stream lay silent and still beneath thin ice.

  Alex’s breath billowed on the air and she sank against the colt’s neck. Wasn’t there any way to rewind time and pretend the morning of the crash never happened?

  With a growing ache, she buried her face in Promenade’s ivory mane. She wanted Laura home. As crazy and annoying as she could be, Laura made Alex feel like she belonged.

  As the snow wound its way between the trees, Alex wondered how long it would take for her tears to freeze on her cheeks.

  The only thing that stifled her tears after a while was Promenade pawing at the snow and plowing his nose through it like a total dork. At one point he acted like he was going to drop to his knees and have a good roll in it, essentially throwing Alex off, but she sat up quickly and pulled back on the reins.

  The chocolate colt snorted and backed awkwardly, and even though Alex scolded him at first for being an idiot, she eventually rubbed his neck for doing what she asked.

  “We should get home, before anyone notices us gone,” she said.

  Promenade swung his head around to blink at her and nip her boot, but she turned him toward the barns
, following the tracks they had made on the way.

  The last thing she expected was Hillary waiting for her in the open aisle of the training barn; pacing, arms folded, brow tight and stern. When she caught sight of Alex and Promenade approaching, Hillary stopped cold in her tracks. Her expression was so grim, Alex gulped.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Hillary barked. “Don’t you realize how dangerous this is?” She grabbed Promenade’s reins, and pulled him close. The colt tossed his head, almost bonking Alex in the nose.

  “He could have been hurt. What would I have told Joe? How would I explain to North that the horse everything is riding on right now was injured?”

  Hillary moved so swiftly, Alex had no time to react as she yanked her from Promenade’s back. Alex almost tumbled on to a heap, but Hillary’s hold was firm. She held Alex at arm’s length, gaze boring into her eyes. “What were you thinking, Alexandra? How could you do something so stupid?”

  But all that echoed in Alex’s ears was “so stupid”. She wrenched her arm away from Hillary and clenched her fists. “You wouldn’t have to explain anything to North, because we were fine. You act like he owns you, but he doesn’t. What’s your problem anyway?”

  Hillary passed Promenade off to a groom, then pivoted back to Alex. Hillary’s face reddened, tears formed in the corner of her eyes. “You could’ve gotten hurt. You aren’t even wearing a helmet. If anything had happened to you or to him…” She shook her head, cupping her mouth. “With Laura in the hospital, and you… I can’t stand you—“

  Alex didn’t need to hear more. She headed back to the house. Hillary couldn’t stand her, that’s all she needed to know. It explained everything.

  Hillary choked a little on a sob or something. “I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.”

  Alex didn’t care.

  SISTERHOOD

  Alex twitched at every bump in the road, gripping the gray plastic armrest of the backseat door. Hillary leaned her head against the passenger seat window as the road whizzed by, the closest to comatose Alex had ever seen her.

  Cade reached for Hillary’s hand, squeezed it, and didn’t let go. He kept his eyes on the road, driving calmly like nothing was wrong in the world. Somehow he always made Alex keep guessing how he held it all together in a house full of females.

  She thought of all the sundaes they had together while watching ESPN. There was something calming about his presence, even when words never passed between them. Something about the clink of tin against ceramic dishes and yelling at a TV. At least he could stand her.

  They pulled into the Calloway County Hospital parking garage and pulled into a parking spot. Alex followed behind the Showmans, noting how Cade kept a hand protectively on Hillary’s back. She wondered if Hillary had told him about the fight they’d just had. How Hillary couldn’t stand a stupid kid like Alex.

  Alex’s eyes wandered to the Christmas decorations hanging inside the hospital in a pale effort to make an otherwise drab place cheery. She felt like a shadow standing in the back of the elevator on the way up to Laura’s floor.

  Once the doors dinged open, Hillary broke away from them, hurrying to her daughter’s room. To Alex’s surprise, Cade fell back. He matched Alex’s steps, hands hidden in his coat pockets, head ducked low.

  Alex wanted to tell him how much walking around like a ghost with them blows. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders unexpectedly and pulled her close to him. Alex’s heart leapt to her throat, choking out any habitual protest she might have put up. A new, unanticipated emotion kicked in without her consent, and she tipped her head against his chest.

  They walked in step together in that quiet way they shared with sundaes and ESPN. Alex didn’t know whether to cry or smile with relief.

  “I know this isn’t the best Christmas ever,” Cade said softly. “But I hope you’ll find the spirit of it somewhere in all of this.” He paused a few doors down from Laura’s room, his arm still around Alex. He held her back a length with a somber look on his face.

  “You see, Christmas has been hard for us for a while. Hillary tries to make it special, but there’s something you should know. Not too many years ago, we lost a baby on Christmas. So Laura being in the hospital like this, it’s like losing that baby all over again.”

  Cade tapped a fist to his heart. “It hits a nerve in her.” He squeezed Alex’s shoulders, whispering, “Hell, it still hurts me too. Forgive her. Okay?”

  He moved off to join Hillary at their daughter’s bedside. Alex leaned around the corner. It didn’t look like Laura had made much progress. She remained unconscious, surrounded by her parents and beeping machines.

  Alex wondered how she had gone virtually unscathed, and Laura was in a weird coma? Part of her still hoped someone, anyone would thank her that Laura was still alive. Yet something else stabbed at her. No wonder Hillary couldn’t stand her. It was Alex’s fault Laura was in such a bad condition.

  Alex kicked the metal door frame. Any minute, she was going to wake up from this awful dream.

  She wasn’t sure how long she stood there with her forehead pressed to the cool alloy, but Cade and Hillary came out of the room.

  “We’re going to get Chinese for lunch,” Cade said. “You coming?”

  She and Hillary stared at one another for a minute. There was a hollowness in Hillary’s gaze that made Alex shift nervously. Alex tucked her lip and shook her head, wishing they’d just go.

  The Showmans left and Alex entered the room. She sat on the free bed adjacent from Laura and stared at her, not sure if she should say anything. Not sure if Laura would even hear her.

  Alex folded her hands in her lap and picked at the broken skin behind her cuticles. So this was Christmas.

  Save for fearing for her life, and prison, it wasn’t all that different from past years at Haven. No jingle bells, no flying deer, nothing that resembled the bright and hopeful season she thought other kids experienced. Not that she had really expected it to anyway. It had been a dream, just like the one North Oak continually promised and she kept warning herself not to get attached to.

  “I hoped I’d find you here.”

  Alex looked up to see Carol in the doorway, holding a small wrapped present in her arms the same way she hugged her favorite books. She crossed to Alex.

  “Mom had to work today, and I came with so she and I could spend part of the day together. She said she’s been taking care of Laura, so I thought maybe, well… I’d bump into you.”

  She sat on the bed beside Alex and offered the gift. “Merry Christmas.”

  Alex’s brow scrunched. First because Carol looked different somehow, and then because of the gift. Alex paled, realizing she hadn’t gotten Carol a gift. She scrambled for words. “I… But I didn’t.”

  Carol pressed the gift toward her again. “Just open it.”

  Alex glanced at the red paper with shiny green Christmas trees, into Carol’s anticipating blue-violet eyes she loved, then back at the gift. Her fingers slowly curled around it, still feeling terrible about not having anything to give her.

  The present was heavy and oddly shaped. She pulled at the taped edge and unfolded the paper. A web of thick, creamy horse hair wound through an upside down silver horseshoe, with a white and brown feather dangling from the bottom.

  “It’s a dream catcher,” Carol said quickly. She tucked her hair behind her ear, and Alex suddenly realized the feather she normally wore was missing.

  But it wasn’t. It was in Alex’s hand. She ran her finger over the soft vanes.

  “When the farrier was at the farm a few weeks ago, I snagged one of Promenade’s old shoes from him, and some of his tail hair so you wouldn’t notice. I did the shoe upside down so your luck never runs out.” Carol paused, like she was nervous or something. “Do you like it?”

  Alex blinked back a tear from the corner of her eye and nodded. Her voice came out sort of raspy, but she forced it forward. “I love it.”

  She held it close to her and lo
oked at Carol. “I’m sorry I—”

  Carol bumped her shoulder into Alex’s. “Don’t worry. This isn’t our last holiday together.”

  They looked at the horseshoe dream catcher together. Carol was extra soft when she spoke. “Besides…” She hooked her arm with Alex’s and leaned her head against hers. “You becoming my friend this year is more than I could ever ask for.”

  Alex swallowed, hoping Carol couldn’t hear the way she made her heart flutter just now.

  They sat together, legs swinging over the side of the bed until Carol’s mom brought them styrofoam cups with brown liquid inside, and produced some small candy canes from her scrub pockets.

  “It’s not the good stuff, but it’s better than nothing.” She smiled.

  Alex took it gratefully. Now it felt more like Christmas.

  Charlotte rested again in the doorway and crossed one foot over the other, sipping from her own cup. “Visiting hours will be over soon. Are your folks around?”

  “They went for Chinese,” Alex answered.

  “That sounds amazing,” Carol groaned. “Mom, can we get takeout when your shift ends?”

  Charlotte stirred her hot chocolate with the small candy cane. “We’ll see.”

  Alex grimaced, wishing she could get it for them, because in her experience ‘We’ll see’ was grownup speak for probably not. She turned on the bed. “Do you have Hillary’s number on your phone?”

  Charlotte raised an eyebrow, and reached into another scrub pocket, producing her phone. “I do. Do you need to call her?”

  Alex nodded and reached across the bed for it. She found the number under Showman and called, chanting silently, Please be Cade. Please be Cade.

  After a few rings, Cade picked up. Alex blew a short, little exhale. She glanced between Carol and Charlotte.

  “It’s Alex. I changed my mind. Could you bring me, like, some egg rolls and fried rice and orange chicken and stuff?”