I'll Be Home for Christmas

by Lori Wilde

  “Maybe you could hide the bullets?” Gabi suggested.

  The woman’s mouth dropped open. “You’re a genius!”

  “Glad I could help. Now what did you want to see the doctor about?”

  Two hours later, she’d interviewed every patient who was still in the waiting room. She got water for people and escorted a patient back to the exam room when Wanda called her name. Gabi returned to the desk and saw that while she’d been in the back, another patient had come in.

  The young woman huddled in the far corner under a red woolen blanket shivering uncontrollably. She had a gray ski cap pulled down over her head and it wasn’t until Gabi got closer, clipboard in hand, that she recognized her.

  Tatum.

  Gabi was a bit ashamed to admit her initial thought was Yay, Tatum’s home, now Joe and I can have sex again.

  Pushing that thought aside, she hesitated for a beat, as questions pelted her. When had the woman returned to Twilight? Did Joe know she was home? Why had she come into the clinic? How would Tatum react to seeing her here? How to handle this whole thing?

  Just treat her like anyone else.

  Squatting in front of Tatum, Gabi asked, “How can I help?”

  Tatum lifted her tearstained face smeared with mascara. Her eyes were bloodshot, her jaw twitching. “You.” She said it flatly as if Gabi was a big fat albatross around her neck.

  “I’m taking Katie Cheek’s place as a volunteer. Could you give me your name and complaint?” Gabi muscled up a kind smile, put everything she had into it, pulled a pen from her purse, and clicked it for effect.

  Tatum looked as if she might protest and ask for someone else, but she drew her knees to her chest, pulled down the sleeves of her hooded sweatshirt over her hands in the way of a lost child, and sniffled.

  Gabi’s heart went out to her. She had no idea what Tatum had been through. Leaning over, she plucked a tissue from the box on the end table—Wanda had gone next door to Walgreens for a supply run—and silently pressed it into the other woman’s hand.

  Dabbing at her eyes, Tatum took in a shaky breath. “Please don’t tell Joe I’m here.”

  “Patient confidentiality,” Gabi said.

  “You’re a volunteer, they can’t hold you to it.”

  “I won’t tell him anything you tell me.”

  Tatum started shredding the tissue between her fingers. “I’m a mess.”

  Gabi schooled her face to stay neutral. She said nothing, just sat and waited. Calmly, quietly.

  “I can’t believe I screwed up my life so badly.”

  Gabi reached out and gently touched Tatum’s knee. “We all make mistakes. It’s part of being human.”

  Tatum stared at Gabi’s hand. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  “You’re in pain.”

  “Yeah?” A fresh tear rolled down Tatum’s cheek. “Most people take that as a sign to keep kicking you.”

  Gabi swallowed, raised a small encouraging smile, and kept her hand on Tatum’s knee. “Why have you come to the clinic today?”

  Tatum gnawed a thumbnail, looked baleful. “You can’t tell Joe.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Did he tell you about Tulsa?”

  “A little. Not much.”

  “The stepfather thing?”

  “He mentioned that.”

  “It was insane. I wasn’t sure what I wanted from him, but of course he denied everything.” Tatum blew her nose. “I thought it would make things better, but it only made things worse.”

  “How is that?” Gabi asked.

  “ ’Cause there’s only so much of my mess I can blame on him. After a while …” She dabbed her eyes with her sleeves. “I gotta own up to what I’ve done.”

  “That’s a positive step in the right direction.”

  “Why does it feel so rotten?”

  “It’ll get better.”

  Tatum’s eyes met hers. “Will it?”

  “Yes,” Gabi said unequivocally. “If you keep trying to do the right thing.”

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  Gabi poised her pen over the form. “Complaint?”

  “I hurt my back.”

  “Right side or left.”

  “Not now,” Tatum said. “Six months ago when I was waiting tables. Doctor put me on Vicodin.”

  “And the pain has come back?”

  Tatum held out her shaking hand. “I tried to get off them on my own, but I can’t do it. I thought if I went to Tulsa and had a showdown it would help me get my head screwed on straight …”

  “You’re having withdrawals.”

  “I don’t want to be like this.” She looked so miserable, so earnest, Gabi believed her. At least at this moment, Tatum was telling the truth. “I want to be a good mother for Casey. I want to get well.”

  The remaining patients were staring at them. Gabi stood, put out a hand to Tatum. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go someplace a little less visible.”

  Tatum nodded, sniffled again, tiny shreds of tissue clinging to her clothes. She got up, slung a backpack over her shoulder, and followed Gabi into the corridor.

  “Hey,” someone from the waiting room hollered. “I was ahead of her.”

  “Just a sec,” Gabi told Tatum, and left her in the corridor. She went back to the waiting room to speak to the man who had hollered. “She’s not going ahead of you. I’m just taking her out of the waiting room, okay?”

  The guy nodded. “Sure, sure. I just didn’t want to lose my place in line.”

  “Your spot is safe,” Gabi assured him.

  As she went past Wanda, the older woman said, “Look at you, girl, ain’t you something? Got them patients eating out of your hand.”

  Gabi smiled. “Thank you for saying so.”

  Back in the corridor, she found Tatum pacing restlessly.

  “This was a bad idea.” Tatum moaned and put both hands to the top of her head. “I shouldn’t have come.”

  Gabi opened the door to the break room. It was empty. She motioned her inside. Tatum hesitated, and then with a sharp shake of her head as if she was trying to convince herself of something, followed.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Gabi asked, going to the refrigerator.

  “Yeah, okay.” Tatum sank down into one of the break room chairs, started gnawing her thumbnail. “Got a Coke?”

  “Pepsi, Sprite, Dr Pepper, Snapple,” Gabi read off.

  “Anything diet?”

  Gabi got her a diet cola, popped open the can, and took it back to her.

  Tatum must have drained half of it in one long, thirsty gulp.

  “How long has it been since you’ve had something to eat?” Gabi asked.

  Tatum’s shoulders barely moved in an I’m-so-tired-I-can’t-remember shrug.

  Gabi went to the cabinet, found saltines and chicken bouillon. She passed the crackers to Tatum. “Eat this,” she said, and put the bouillon in a cup of water and microwaved it.

  In under a minute, Tatum had wolfed down six crackers and the bouillon was ready. She crumbled the remainder of the crackers into the bouillon, drank it slowly. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

  “Feeling better?” Gabi asked.

  Tatum nodded.

  Gabi sat beside her.

  “You’re being too nice to me,” Tatum said. “I’m trying to figure out why.”

  “Because you’re a human being in pain.”

  “You keep saying that. I don’t get it.”

  Gabi couldn’t begin to imagine what the young woman had been through to make her so suspicious of kindness. “I don’t have anything against you, Tatum.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re just doing the best that you can.”

  Tatum looked shocked that Gabi understood. “I am. I really, really am.”

  “You just need some help to find your way.”

  Tatum sank her head onto the table, draped her hands over her head, and broke out in helpless sobs.

 
Gabi blew out a soft breath. They were going around in circles. “Stay right here,” she said. “I’m going to make a call and see if we can get you in a rehab facility.”

  “I don’t have any money to pay for rehab.”

  “Let’s not worry about that right now. One step at a time.”

  “What about Casey?”

  “We’ll make arrangements for her too.”

  “Joe. Joe will look after her.”

  “I’m sure he will. But that means you’ll have to tell him.”

  Tatum hung her head. “He’ll be so disappointed in me. Again.”

  “No. He’ll be proud of you that you’re doing what it takes to get well.”

  Tatum stroked the corners of her mouth, her eyes went wild, and she looked as if she might bolt.

  “I’ll be right back,” Gabi said. “Just don’t leave. Can you promise me that?”

  Tatum nodded. “I’ll stay, but don’t take too long. I don’t do well when I’m alone.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Remember, if Christmas isn’t found in your heart, you won’t find it under a tree.

  —Charlotte Carpenter

  Joe walked the land in the gathering twilight. The sky was clear, the air crisp and cold. The North Star shone like a beacon, lighting the way for a brilliant evening. He’d taken Casey to see his mother while he’d gone to the rehab hospital for a meeting with Gramps and his lawyer about Gramps deeding the farm over to him. The place was his now, once the paperwork was done. He was the new steward of the land. It was a big responsibility, but he welcomed it.

  Anchor. The land was the anchor he needed.

  He watched Casey skipping through the row of trees, laughing with delight at nothing and everything. He smiled, realized he was content.

  Maybe he was capable of settling down. He certainly felt more settled.

  Over the years, he’d learned effective ways to deal with his hyperactivity and attention deficit disorder—he’d educated himself, took his medication, gave himself permission to be who he was, and gave up guilt over behaviors that had gotten him in trouble before he understood his behavior wasn’t due to lack of character, but to biological brain disorder he’d probably inherited from his grandfather.

  But even so, he had not believed he could ever have a traditional lifestyle. He’d wanted it. Craved it. But the way most people lived their lives seemed contradictory to his wiring.

  And then had come Gabi and Casey and Gramps’s offer, and a quiet peace had fallen over Joe and he just knew he could stick with this. He could stay in one place. He could be a farmer. He could plan. He had people he could trust for help and advice—his family, his friends, his community. He wasn’t alone. He never had been. He’d just always thought of ways he didn’t fit, rather than how to change things to fit him.

  He couldn’t wait to tell Gabi about his day, couldn’t wait to hear about hers.

  Where was she?

  She should have been home already. The free clinic closed at four and it was after five now. But she could have lingered in town for any number of reasons. There were at least half a dozen holiday activities going on every day until Christmas and someone might have invited her to join in.

  Joe breathed in pine and walked to the porch that was so deep-set that it could hold both a patio set and the wooden glider Gramps had made for Gramma. From this vantage point, he could watch Casey as she darted in and out among the trees and the road.

  Several minutes later, when he was just about to call Casey inside for supper, headlights swung across the dusk, and the Camry pulled into his yard.

  Gabi.

  An instant smile jerked his mouth right up and he jumped straight from the porch to the ground, forgoing the steps, to get to her quicker.

  But the passenger door opened and Tatum got out.

  Joe stopped short, surprised to see her with Gabi. He’d texted her last night and she’d told him she needed a few more days, and he’d agreed because he hadn’t known what else to do.

  Tatum looked awful. No makeup, her hair in need of shampooing, her face pale, fingernails bitten to the quick.

  “You’re here!” Casey called, and came running from the trees to launch herself into her mother’s arms.

  Tatum dropped to her knees and hugged her daughter so tightly that Casey squirmed. “Stop squeezing so hard, I can’t breathe.”

  Finally, Tatum let go, got to her feet, her desperate eyes making contact with Joe. Immediately, he knew something was wrong.

  “Casey,” he said. “Why don’t you go inside the house and wash up for dinner.”

  Casey looked like she might argue, but he sent her a do-as-I-say parental stare, and she pivoted on her heels and skipped away.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, once Casey was out of earshot.

  “I need you to keep her for a while longer,” Tatum said.

  Joe didn’t know what to make of this. He looked past Tatum to Gabi, who had gotten out and was coming around the side of the car. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail that swung as she walked. She moved so gracefully, so calm and put together.

  And that soft smile! Wars had been waged over a smile like that. Fortunes won and lost. But this smile, from that woman, was aimed right at him.

  His heart stumbled in his chest, bounced hard against his rib cage.

  “Joe.” Tatum’s voice forced him to peel his gaze off Gabi. “Can you keep her?”

  “For how long?” he asked, not minding taking care of Casey, but knowing the longer he had her the longer it would be before he could get his hands on Gabi’s lush body again. His sneaky gaze wandered back to caress Gabi’s curves.

  “Twenty-eight days,” Tatum said.

  That jolted him out of his X-rated Gabi fantasies. “Twenty-eight days as in—”

  “Rehab,” Tatum said.

  “Alcohol?”

  “Prescription drugs. I got hooked on hydrocodone after a back injury.

  He’d known Tatum had dabbled in drugs in the past, but thought she’d left that behind her. He should have suspected something was up when she kept borrowing money. How could he have been so blind?

  “But you’re going to get help,” he said.

  “I’m serious, Joe. I want a good life. I want good things for Casey, but I need help. I can’t do this by myself.”

  “What … how?”

  “Gabi,” Tatum said. “She gave me the courage to see this through. She helped me get into a facility, found ways to fund my stay. Joe—” Tatum’s voice broke off, full of tears.

  “Tate,” he said, and gave her a hug. “I’m so damn proud of you and I know Casey’s going to be proud of you too. This is a big step, but you can do it.”

  “Thanks.” Tatum gave a nervous laugh, swiped at her eyes. “The only problem is that I have to leave right away. I’ll be in rehab over Christmas and there’s a lot of rules about when people can visit and call.”

  “We’ll work it out,” he said. “Anything to get you well.”

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” Tatum asked. “Why is everyone being so nice when I’ve been so horrible?”

  “Because everyone deserves a second chance,” Joe said.

  “I won’t let you down.” Tatum notched up her chin and he believed her. “Not this time.”

  “I’m counting on it.” He touched her shoulder.

  “I’m going to go tell Casey what’s going on.” Tatum gestured toward the house. “Then Gabi is driving me to the facility in Fort Worth.”

  Tatum went into the house, leaving Joe and Gabi standing in the darkness underneath a star canopy.

  The sight of her knocked the air right out of his lungs. She looked like an angel. It was all he could do not to take her into his arms and kiss her. Kiss her so hard she would be able to taste the changes in him.

  “That was so good of you to make this happen for Tatum. How did you make this happen?”

  “She’s the one who took the first step. She showed up at the free cl
inic and asked for help. All I did was make a few phone calls. It didn’t take much in a town like Twilight. Once I spread the word, people were coming out of the woodwork to donate money to her sobriety. Most of them were doing it for you, and Casey,” Gabi said. “But people really do love a good redemption story. Tatum has got a lot of issues to unsnarl, but I’m rooting for her, and with you and Casey in her corner, I think she’s going to make it.”

  The depth of her kindness touched him in ways he couldn’t begin to express. He admired the hell out of her. “You are an amazing human being, Gabrielle Preston.”

  “No more so than you, Joe Cheek. You love that little girl in there even though she’s not your biological child and I know you’re going to take good care of her while Tatum is in rehab.”

  He stepped closer, reached out to take her hands. She didn’t resist. Her hands were so cold. He rubbed them with his own, warming her. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you.”

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s something huge.” He peered into her eyes, seeing what a beautiful soul she had. “I want to kiss you so badly I can’t stand it.”

  “I want it too,” she said. “But we can’t. I’m driving Tatum to rehab and you’ve got Casey to look after. This is a tough time for her. She needs your full attention.”

  “What does this mean for us?” he asked, knowing what she was going to say before she ever said it.

  “For the most part, I think I should stay on my side of the road.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because it’s killing me to be so near you and not be able to make love to you.”

  Joe groaned. “It’s killing me too.”

  “See, there? All the more reason to keep our distance. I’ll help you with Casey when you need it, but other than that, I think it’s best if we just cherish that one great night and morning we had together,” she said. “And it will have to be enough.”

  While it had been fine for a few days, taking care of an eight-year-old girl long-term was a lot more work than Joe expected. Especially now that Gabi was sticking to her side of the road.