Take Me Home for Christmas

“It’s because of that inflexibility you tease me about,” he said dryly.

She laughed. “It is! But that inflexibility could also be called self-discipline. You’ve always been the overachiever in the group.”

“Stop trying to appeal to my vanity. You’re throwing me over for Sophia.”

“I am not!” she said. “But I don’t mind telling you that what you’re offering her is really wonderful. You should’ve seen her tonight while everyone was rummaging through her house.”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the details. It’d been difficult enough to watch it from outside. But he couldn’t help asking, “Was she crying?”

“No. I wish she had been. Crying would’ve been a normal reaction to sadness and pain. Crying is how most people cope with disappointment. But what she’s suffering goes deeper than that. She’s depressed. Numb. Completely lost. She sat on the back steps, smoking a cigarette, believe it or not, and staring off into space. She didn’t try to protect any of her possessions, even the ones with sentimental value.”

He felt a tightness in his chest, which he didn’t want to acknowledge, and opened his mouth to bring the conversation back to the practical—the details of the job—but she kept talking.

“You know what they say about people who lose all their belongings in a fire.”

That distracted him. “No. What do they say?”

“It’s one of the most catastrophic things that can happen to a person. One minute her house looked like she was used to seeing it, the next almost everything was gone.”

Including her husband, he thought. He wondered if she missed Skip, if she’d loved him—although he couldn’t understand how anyone could care too deeply about such a pompous ass.

“The people who came were like locusts,” Eve was saying. “They took practically everything.”

“You didn’t put a stop to it?”

“Eventually. I wish I’d acted sooner. I just... I don’t know her all that well, so I didn’t think it was my place until you sent me that text. Then I got mad at myself for not standing at the door and refusing to let them enter in the first place.”

He remembered his brief exchange with Chief Stacy. “It’s a difficult situation. They felt justified in what they were doing.”

“I heard one person say, ‘I paid for it, why shouldn’t I have it?’”

“They’re happy to see her deprived of all the things they’ve envied.”

“I guess. It sucked—that’s all I know.”

“So when did she start smoking?” He couldn’t recall Sophia ever having a cigarette. They’d certainly never smoked when they were younger.

“I guess she started tonight,” Eve said. “She made me stop at the Gas-N-Go on our way to the house. When she came out toting a carton of cigarettes, I asked her why, and she said, ‘Because I can’t drink.’ She began to add that she hoped they’d kill her and put her out of her misery but when she saw my reaction, she clammed up.”

“Why can’t she drink?”

There was a slight hesitation. “Um...I didn’t ask.”

“Well, she can’t smoke in my house.” He hated the smell. He was willing to provide employment so she could get over this rough patch, but he planned to keep everything very professional. There’d be no allowances.

“She won’t. She’ll do everything she can to make you happy.” She groaned. “God, I’m so relieved. Before you called, I was sitting here going over my books, trying to figure out a way to hire her at the B and B. But...it’s just not in my budget to add another employee, especially going into the off season.”

“She can start on Monday if she wants. If she’s not ready, it can wait until later in the week or the following Monday.”

“Judging by the state of her cupboards, I think she needs to start as soon as possible.”

“Don’t tell me they carted off her food, too!”

“She didn’t have much to begin with.”

“Shit.” He could already feel the situation getting stickier than he’d bargained for.

“But now everything’s going to be okay.” She laughed. “You’re such a softie, you know that?”

“Don’t let it get out. I can only take on one charity case at a time.”

“She’d hate to hear you say that.”

He heard the displeasure in her voice. “She won’t hear it, because you won’t tell her.”

“Is that the only reason you’re giving her a hand? For the sake of helping someone who’s going through a rough time?”

“Of course,” he snapped, irritated again. “Why else would I be doing it?”

“Sometimes I wonder if you still have feelings for her.”

His other friends wondered, too, which made what he was doing even more problematic, since he’d have to deal with their reactions. “The answer is no.”

So what if the idea of peeling off her clothes caused a visceral excitement, even after this many years? That didn’t mean anything. Lots of people harbored desire for an ex.

It was just that he hadn’t been in a relationship in forever. He needed to quit worrying about work and get back to dating. “And don’t bring that up again.”

“Got it. There will be no questioning your motives.”

“Smart ass,” he grumbled. “So do you think she can get by on $2,500 a month? It’s not a lot—pennies compared to what she’s used to.”

“But it’s the most she’ll be able to make, especially in Whiskey Creek. There aren’t many jobs.”

“Why doesn’t she move somewhere else?”

“She won’t uproot her daughter. Alexa wants to stay where it’s familiar. Where her friends are.”

“Sophia cares about that?”

“Of course! Alexa is everything to her.”

“Maybe she’s not as terrible a person as I thought.”

“Ted, stop.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. I hope her salary will cover the basics. And I’ll be flexible about hours. As long as she’s not too loud while I’m trying to write, Alexa can come here after school. Sophia might as well make one dinner for all of us. They can eat before they leave. I’ll eat after they go home.”

“Heaven forbid you should ever eat together.”

He rubbed his neck. “You’re already making me regret this.”

“Don’t, because what you’re offering is more than fair. I just...I wish you could forgive her and start over— as friends. She’s different than she was.”

“Sure she is.”

“It’s true!”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be perfectly polite.”

There was a slight pause, but she must’ve decided not to challenge him further. “I can’t wait to call and tell her the job I mentioned before is still available if she wants it!” Eve said. “It was so hard to leave her sitting in that empty house once I got everyone out of there. You should’ve seen Alexa’s face when she came home. She’s every bit as lost as her mother, you know. I found her crying in the cemetery yesterday.”

She’d told them at coffee, but he let her tell him again. “She just lost her father in one of the worst ways possible. Of course she’s going to cry.”

“But she wasn’t crying over her father. She was crying about her mother!”

She hadn’t made such a point of that.

He sighed. He’d justified making this call by telling himself he wouldn’t get too involved. He’d give her work. That was it. Anything beyond money for services rendered would be...foolhardy. “I’d rather not hear about it, if you don’t mind. I’m in the market for a housekeeper. I figure she can have the job until she finds something better.”

“Understood,” Eve said. “No emotional involvement.”

“Now you’ve got it.”

“So what should I say her duties will include?”