The Webster Grove Series

by Puckett, Tracie

“Uh, Steph,” Bridget leaned forward. “What the heck are you wearing, honey?”

  “Looks to me like she made a last minute decision to spend the night with a man and forgot to pack her own clothes,” Isaac said, shaking his head. “Tisk, tisk.”

  “Thanks for the input,” I glared at him. “I was running late, Bridge.”

  “Yeah, but even on your worst days you look better than-”

  “Get off it,” I snapped.

  Nate ran through the door just in the nick of time and grabbed his seat. “Nice duds, Ghijk.”

  “Shut up.”

  The substitute teacher tried to lead class with the ease and presence of our usual commanding teacher, but failed miserably. The students were loud, obnoxious, and completely out of control. She finally gave up trying to teach the lesson and sat down, ignoring the noise and reading to herself.

  “A sub again,” Bridget said. “Mr. Rivera must be super sick. He's never missed a day before, let alone two in a row.”

  “Whaddya think, Steph?” Isaac asked. “Is he sick?”

  “How should I know?”

  I distinctly remembered Isaac promising that my secret, whatever that may be, was safe with him. Maybe that's not the case...

  “Bridge,” Isaac leaned toward her.

  “Hmm?”

  “Would you be interested in coming to dinner tonight?”

  She snapped her head and dropped her jaw. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah-”

  “I'd love-”

  “Great,” he cut her off. “My house, five o'clock.”

  “Wait,” she said. “I can't. Curfew...”

  “Before five?”

  “It's a long story,” she said. “But... I bet if I told my parents I was staying with Steph—”

  “Leave me out of this-”

  “No,” she said. “I could tell 'em I'm spending the night with you. That way, after dinner, I could just drive to your house.”

  “Or walk,” Isaac told her. “Steph lives right across the street.”

  Gee, thanks a lot, I thought. Now I'll never get her out of my house.

  “Bridge, don't lie to your parents.” I looked back at the paper below me and continued answering a short-essay assignment.

  “It wouldn't be a lie if you came too,” Isaac said. “The more the merrier.”

  “No,” I snapped. “I already have plans.”

  “You do not,” Bridget stated matter-of-factly. “You never do anything.”

  “Well, I am tonight-”

  “Like what?” Isaac asked.

  “Yeah?” Bridge egged.

  “I'm going... to...I have that...I promised... I have to go—”

  “That's what I thought,” Isaac gleamed.

  “She's coming to my house,” Nate said, happy to defeat Isaac. “We're working together on a project in Spanish. Tonight was the only night I could do it.”

  I tried not to send too many questionable glances in Nate's direction while Isaac was in eye-shot.

  The bell rang and the class sprung out of the chairs and into the hallway. Bridget was too busy hanging on to Isaac's every word that she didn't notice me pull Nate aside.

  “Why did you cover for me?”

  “Forget it,” he said, trying to walk away.

  “Nate—”

  “I saw you leave his house this morning, Steph,” he said, disapprovingly as he turned back.

  “I can explain—”

  “I don't want to know, okay?”

  He started to turn again and I grabbed his wrist. “Nate, stop. His brother is engaged to my mom. He's been going through some rough things lately so I kept him and his grandmother company for the night. It was just family taking care of family.”

  “Family?” he scoffed. “Do you write love poems for everyone you're related to, Steph?”

  “Nate—”

  “My lips are sealed,” he promised. “But I'd keep an eye on Isaac. He seems to know more than he should.” I nodded in agreement. “There's something weird about that kid, Steph. I don't trust him.”

  Chapter Six

  Friday December 09

  Christmas had never been a heavily celebrated holiday growing up. Unlike Alex, I didn't spend my early childhood Christmases waking up hoping the Big Guy had made a house call. Mom only entertained the idea of Santa Clause for a few years; until I was four I thought he couldn't find us because we moved too much. Somehow, I understood. It was after I turned five that my mother finally told me the cold, hard truth about the jolly, fat man of the North. I began kindergarten knowing the one secret that most parents pray to keep from their kids. I went into school...age six... never having a Christmas present from Santa Clause.

  Calvin started a new tradition in our house this year. A tree; live, fresh, and ready for trimming. Mom refused to take any part in the decorating, as it ruined her memories of the Ghijk Girl's Tradition. While she soaked away in her tub, Calvin and I strung the lights and hung bulbs of every color, shape, and size. With an Elvis Christmas vinyl scratching along in the background, Calvin did his best impression of The King singing Blue Christmas. And let me tell you, his best... was the worst I've ever seen.

  Still, despite an awful impersonation, decorating and humming along with Calvin was the most enjoyable Christmas memory I had to date.

  “Gran had to fly back to New York this morning,” Calvin said, taking a break to sit on the edge of the couch and flip through a jewelry catalog. “She wanted us to keep an eye on Alex for the next few days. You up to heading over for a bit or...?”

  “I have a better idea,” I said, hanging the last of the ornaments on the tree. “Can you take me to run a few errands beforehand?”

  “Sure,” he nodded. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Alex needs a good, stiff shove into the Christmas spirit.”

  “Agreed.”

  “You're in?” I asked.

  “I'm your man.”

  Two hours later the sun was beginning to set on a crisp, cool winter day. Calvin had just finished securing a live, fresh Christmas tree into the corner of his brother's comfortably small living room. Trying to keep the noise to a minimum, as not to wake Alex from his much-needed sleep, Calvin helped me unload the shopping bags full of Christmas decorations from his car.

  “You got it from here?” he asked, looking at his watch. “I have to get to the restaurant and check up on things.”

  “Go,” I said. “I can handle it.”

  “I'll swing by and get you on my way back through.”

  “Okay. Thanks for-”

  “Not a problem, Steph. He needs this.”

  I took twenty minutes to hang the lights, not doing too bad considering I'd only ever decorated one tree in my life. I pulled the boxes of ornaments from the shopping bags and, for the second time that day, gave it all I had. I moved through the living room, decorating the mantle and hanging a stocking above the fireplace. The quaint cabin-esk house took on a much cozier feel. I couldn't lie; I was pretty impressed with myself.

  “Steph?” I turned and smiled. Alex stood outside his bedroom squinting and rubbing his eyes. “What did you—“

  “Don't get mad,” I said. “I know you said you didn't want—”

  “I'm—”

  “Calvin and I both agree that you need—”

  “Steph—”

  “Just try to get used to—”

  “Steph!” He looked at me for a moment and then meandered through the room. He ran his fingers across the tree, looking at his reflection in a bright, red bulb.

  “Are you mad?” I finally asked, unable to read his expression.

  “Wow,” he said, taking another moment to look around the room. “This was really nice of y
ou, kiddo.”

  “Don't hate Christmas,” I begged him. It takes too much effort and energy to fight the things that should come natural-”

  “Cookies,” he interrupted me.

  “What?”

  “Are you baking?”

  “Nope,” I pointed at the candle on the mantle. “Christmas cookie scented; tastes worse, but has less calories.”

  He smiled, finally moving away from the fireplace. He took an ornament from my hand, set it aside on the mantle, and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. I returned the gesture, taking in his scent and the warmth of his body against mine. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and gently pulled back to look at me.

  “You are... the most incredible... I don't know how to thank you...” With each word, his face inched closer to mine. My palms were sweating rapidly and my pulse was on the rise. “Steph, I--”

  “I'm back!” Calvin said, busting through the door with a bag in hand. He stopped for a moment and stared between the two of us. “Hey...what's going on, guys?”

  Alex and I, caught in a compromising position, pulled apart and looked away from the other.

  “Here, man,” Calvin handed his brother a large, white paper sack. “Thought you'd be hungry.”

  “I was just thanking Steph for... well, everything,” Alex said, a few seconds too late.

  “You gonna look into my eyes all dopey and stupid too?” Calvin asked. “I carried the tree in.”

  I smiled, always a fan of Calvin's try-too-hard sense of humor.

  “You ready Steph?” he asked, still standing next to the open door. “Apparently Bridget is waiting for you at the house. Your mom called and told me to pick you up at Nate's. She said something about a Spanish project...”

  I shook my head and turned to Alex. “Hang in there.”

  “See you Monday,” he said.

  “Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

  “I'll work on it,” he promised.

  Friday December 09 8:30PM

  Can one tree, two candles, and a countless amount of decorations put someone in the Christmas spirit? I don't know, but I felt like it was a good start.

  I shot up the stairs and down the hallway, throwing the bedroom door open to find Bridget strung across the bed.

  “Oh my God, Steph!” She sat up immediately. “I swear I'm in love!”

  “...uh?”

  “Isaac!”

  “You went?”

  “Well, yeah,” she rolled her eyes. “I couldn't not go, Steph. How stupid do you think I am-”

  “Not stupid,” I said, scratching my head. “Not incredibly smart either.”

  I've never considered myself a selfish person. In fact, I'm pretty certain mom got all the selfishness our bloodline could hold. However, I had trouble caring about Bridget's most recent crush with the nonstop replay of the moments I'd spent in the arms of Alexander Rivera rolling through my brain.

  “How do ya figure?”

  “Being alone in a house with two strange men, one of which you don't even—”

  “Ugh, party pooper,” she threw herself backward on the bed to assume her previous position.

  “I'm not trying to...I think you need to approach the whole Isaac situation with caution, Bridge.”

  “Yeah, yeah...”

  “So, you were saying—”

  “I'm in love,” she popped back up. “He's perfect, Steph. In every way! And his dad is just...oh my God... he's as great as his son!”

  “I've only met him the one time, and I'm not sure his father—”

  “Nick,” she said. “Who, by the way, looks just like Harry-freaking-Potter.”

  “Relevance?”

  “None,” she shrugged. “Anyway, they moved here from North Carolina—”

  “Where?” I asked, distinctly remembering him telling me he was from New York.

  “You heard me. Nick said he can't discuss the details of his job, but his work transferred him to Webster Grove last month.”

  My cell phone buzzed on the window sill. I recognized the number as the very one Alex had left for me on a post-it on Thanksgiving.

  I answered the call without hesitation and held the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Do you have a sec?” Alex said from the other end.

  “Uh... yeah...”

  “Nate calling?” Bridget butted in.

  “No, Bridge,” I enunciated, for Alex's benefit. “I'm going to take this call downstairs, though. I'll be right back.”

  “Okay...” she rolled her eyes.

  “What's up?” I asked him as I left the room and dashed for the stairs and out of earshot.

  “I won’t keep you long,” he promised. “I have some information I thought you'd find intriguing.”

  “Shoot.”

  “I heard a bit of rustling around outside a few minutes ago. I figured Cal came back... or maybe you forgot something. But when I opened the door, I watched Isaac scurry away as if someone lit a fire under his--”

  “Peyton?”

  “Yes. Anyway, I didn't think much of it until I noticed an envelope taped to the door.”

  “Okay?”

  “A note. Eight words, simple as this: break her heart and I break your neck.”

  “What?”

  “I'd like to see him try,” he laughed for the first time in weeks. “Do you know anything about this?”

  “No... why would I?”

  “Well,” I heard him take a long breath. “You're the only her in my life--”

  “Are you sure it was him?” I asked, hoping to cut him off in time. If, and I mean if, Alexander Rivera had feelings for me, I'd be damned if I was going to let him tell me over the phone. “I mean, Bridget just left his house.”

  I don't know why my instincts jumped to Isaac's defense. I know very little about him, and the miniscule amount of knowledge I do have may have been chalked full of lies. But still, he'd caught on to my feelings for Mr Rivera the day he moved to town and, despite beating around the bush, he never told anyone. I couldn't put my finger on why, but I trusted him.

  “Anything's possible.”

  “Plus,” I continued. “It could have been anybody. Nate saw me leave there this morning. Maybe he's just screwing with you.”

  “No, Steph,” he said. “I'm certain. I'd bet my life on it.”

  “I'm sorry--”

  “Did you say Bridget was with him earlier?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don't let her go back there, okay? There's something really weird about that kid, Steph. Keep your eyes peeled... I don't trust him.”

  Funny... neither does Nate.

  ... so why do I?

  Chapter Seven

  Saturday December 24

  Alexander Rivera made his triumphant return to the classroom the Monday after Calvin and I lugged the large Christmas tree into his house.

  Mr. Rivera's attitude and demeanor had changed tremendously. It was a much needed shift once he started smiling, laughing, teasing, and joking with the class again. The sadness still lingered in his eyes, but no one expected him to make a full recovery. Much to the satisfaction of his students, the snapping, detention slips, and office referrals declined to an all-time low. Nate, of course, continued testing the water.

  Calvin says he's seeing a side of his brother he's never seen around the holidays. And I'm glad. Adriana thinks I have something to do with it... I credit the Christmas spirit. Either way, the Alexander Rivera that I grew to know and...appreciate.... was slowly returning.

  “Happy Birthday, Steph!” Calvin busted into my room with a spread of breakfast foods. “Steph, you're supposed to be in bed.”

  “Sorry,” I jumped from the window seat and threw myself under t
he covers. “Sock it to me!” He placed the tray in front of me with a card and small wrapped box. “I feel so special! No one has ever done something like this...”

  “Eat up,” he winked and headed for the door.

  “Wait.... Cal, where's my mom?”

  “She's still in bed,” he bit his lip, much like his brother. “Sorry... she wasn't really up to celebrating. It's hard for her being—”

  “A 33-year old woman with an adult daughter,” I said, unsurprised. Confirmed: Caroline did get every ounce of selfishness available in our bloodline. “Thanks, Cal.”

  He came back, wrapped his arm around me, and pressed a quick kiss to the side of my head. “I'll let you eat. When you're done there's another present downstairs.”

  Before tearing into the mountain of pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, and orange juice Calvin prepared, I lifted the gift from the corner of the tray. I quickly unwrapped the paper and stared in awe. Did Calvin buy me jewelry? I lifted the lid of the small box to find a gorgeous, silver bracelet. After wiping away a few appreciative tears, I pulled it out and snapped the clasp around my wrist.

  I opened the card to a note: Steph, whether through blood or through marriage, you'll always be family. Happy Birthday. Love, Cal

  I didn't bother eating. I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs to find Calvin in the dining room reading the newspaper. He lowered the news as I stepped in and smiled.

  “Hey,” he said, eying my arm. “Do you like--”

  “Love,” I corrected him. “You have no idea how much this means--”

  “I know how important family is to you, Steph. I know your mom is a little unpredictable and I never want you to think, no matter what happens between Caroline and I, that you're not part of my family.”

  “Is something going on? Are you guys-”

  “Everything is fine,” he promised. “But like I said, it's Caroline. Even she never knows what the next day might bring.”

  I nodded, happy that Calvin knew the risk he was taking with our family. He must really love his fiancee...to hold on to her, knowing she could change her mind at any given moment.

  “Did you see that it's engraved?”

  “The bracelet?”

  He nodded. “On the inside.”