Merry Humbug Christmas (28 page)

“Anything. Do you want more hot chocolate?”

Eli snickered and shook his head. “No.”

“What then?”

“It was an accident.”

“Yes! It was.”

“And you’re sorry, we’ve established that.”

“So sorry,” she reiterated.

“So it’s done, and you’re forgiven.”

“Really?”

“Yes. So please stop apologizing.”

Reese gazed at him as relief surged through her. “Really?”

“Yes. Stop now.”

She grinned and zipped her lip with a quick motion. After a

moment she touched his hand again. “Thank you.” Eli nodded, and

she stood up. “Okay. I’m going to find out my chopping duties for the soup.”

Just as she began to walk away, he added, “Oh. About that hot

chocolate . . .”

Reese giggled. “Marshmallows?”

“The little ones.”

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It was the most wonderful cup of hot chocolate Reese had ever

prepared in her life—not that she’d made very many of them.

As she placed the marshmallows, Damian caught her eye from

across the room. She wondered if she detected relief from him as

well. It couldn’t have been easy for him, being so deeply entrenched in his Palmer family ties, to think of future Christmases and

Thanksgivings where his younger brother and his wife could hardly look at one another.

She quickly looked at Sofia and thought,
Now she might prove to be
a completely different mountain to climb.

But when Sofia looked up at her, instead of disdain, she saw

acceptance in her striking dark eyes. When she smiled at Reese, a flood of deliverance crashed over her heart in a tall wave.

After she handed the cup to Eli, Reese moved to the window and

stood next to Damian as they surveyed the festivities on the other side. Flurries of snow had begun to fall again, and the distant squeals of the children playing soothed her heart somehow.

“Yeahhhh!” P.J. exclaimed as his inner tube took up speed over

the slope of the hill.

Sarah and Ezekiel followed him, sharing one large sled. Matthew

tailed them, shouting like a child as the inner tube he rode pitched to one side. At the top of the hill, Abigail and Jeremy encased in puffy little coats, gloves, and ear muffs looked like festive sausages building a short, stout snowman. Reese and Damian chuckled in perfect

harmony when Frosty’s misshapen head rolled off his round body.

“I think they need some help,” Damian commented. “Are you

game?”

“You get the coats.”

But just as they turned to head outside, Hannah appeared behind

them.

“We’re headed out to help the little ones with their snowman,”

Reese told her. “Want to come too?”

Something in Hannah’s greenish eyes stopped Reese in her

tracks.

“Could I talk to you a minute?” the girl asked her. “Just us?”

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Reese raked her fingers through Hannah’s chestnut hair. “Of

course.”

She looked to Damian, and he nodded. “I’ll meet you out there.”

Following Hannah’s lead, the two of them filed past the Christmas tree and down the hall in silence. When she reached the closed door to the bedroom Reese had shared with Reggie, Hannah asked her, “Is this your room?”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “Let’s go in.”

Once they’d stepped inside, Hannah shut the door behind them,

double-checking to make sure it had latched. Reese sat on the corner of the bed and waited, trying to imagine what might come next.

Hannah turned around, but she made no move from the door.

Her eyes misted over almost immediately, her nose reddening as she angled her head down until her copper-brown hair nearly covered

her face.

“Hannah. What’s going on?”

When she finally raised her head again, tears streamed down

both cheeks.

“Come on,” she said, patting the mattress beside her. “Sit down

and tell me what’s going on.”

Hannah took only two steps forward and she froze to the spot,

digging the toe of what looked like combat boots into the thick sage carpet.

“I can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”

After another moment of heated silence, Hannah tugged on her

oversized chambray shirt and slid one arm out of it. Reese’s eyebrow twitched as she tossed the shirt to the floor and lifted the black knit tank underneath.

“You’re a doctor, right?”

Reese nodded, and without another word, Hannah turned

around so Reese had full view of her bare back where a large and

vivid tattoo peered back at her from just below Hannah’s small waist.

Angel’s wings with a heart in the middle and a halo over the top

glowed in vivid color.

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On the seventh day of Christmas,

Murphy’s Law gave to me . . .

seven backs a-blazing,

six ER visits,

five frozen thiiiings!

four yapping dogs,

three wrenched necks,

two mismatched gloves,

and a big rockin’ Harry Winston ring.

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7

“Oh, Hannah, . . . Sweetie, what did you do?”

The base of the left wing radiated with red, and Hannah

reached back and touched it. “I think something’s wrong,” she said, sniffling.

“Yes,” Reese replied. “Come here.”

Hannah clutched the front of her tank shirt to cover her as she

approached. “We have to be really quiet because my mom is taking a nap just across the hall, okay?”

“Stand right here,” Reese told her, and she placed her hand on

her arm and guided her. “Turn around so I can get a closer look.”

Her heart pounded hard as she realized what a terrible infection

had begun to take hold, and Hannah’s muffled sobs punctuated the

seriousness of it.

“Honey,” she said, nudging her around to face her. “Do your par-

ents know you got this tattoo?”

“N-no.”

“How long ago did you get it?”

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“Last week.”

“And when did it start bothering you?”

“It’s been . . . you know . . . sore. But it didn’t start really hurt-ing until a couple of hours ago. Then I went in the bathroom and

looked in the mirror, and I could see my skin is really red, and when I touched it, I could hardly stand it.”

“Okay. Well, the first thing we need to do is tell your mom and

da—”

“No!” she cried, hopping backward. “No, Reese, please. They’ll

kill me. I can’t tell them. Can’t you just put something on it or something? You’re a doctor.”

“Yes, I am, sweetie. And I’ll help you, but if you don’t tell your parents, I’m going to.”

“No, you
caaan’t
,” she insisted.

“Talk to them, Hannah.”

“Can’t you just fix me up, and then I’ll tell them after Christmas?

It’s going to ruin the whole thing.”

“What whole thing?”

She jerked her head down again, letting her wavy hair fall across her face.

“Hannah.”

“My parents haven’t been getting along very well,” she muttered,

and Reese’s heart jumped over the next few beats. “But they’ve been nicer to each other since we came on this trip. I don’t want to do anything to mess that up.”

Reese sighed, and she rubbed Hannah’s arm warmly.

“I heard them fighting. Daddy’s mad at Mom for taking a job and

being away from us kids, and my mom says she wouldn’t have had to take a job if Daddy made enough money to support us kids.”

Sadness turned sour at the back of her throat, and Reese tugged

Hannah into a hug. “I’m so sorry, honey. Your mom and dad never

meant for you to hear that.”

“Yeah, but I did.”

“Yes. But it has nothing to do with their love for you,” she

explained, and Hannah sat down next to her on the bed, holding her Merry Humbug Christmas.indd 228

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knit shirt close over her chest. “Sometimes grown-ups just have to argue a little to make their way toward working something out.”

“I bet you and Uncle Damian don’t argue.”

Reese clucked out a chuckle. “Oh, we argue, honey.”

Hannah shifted gears. “Couldn’t I just wait until after Christmas to tell my mom and dad?”

“I’m afraid not.” The girl’s disappointment rang through her

silence. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to go and ask

Grandma Jeane for a first-aid kit. We’ll start by treating the infection and getting this cleaned up. Then you’re going to go in there, take your mom and dad aside, and show them your back. All right?”

She nodded unconvincingly.

“Hannah, I’m very serious about this. You’re thirteen years old.

This is way too important to keep from your parents.”

The young teenager kicked the carpet with the toe of her boot

and lifted one shoulder in a hopeless little shrug.

“And how does a thirteen-year-old get inked anyway? Who did

this, Hannah?”

“My friend Brittany’s brother, Buddy. He’s a tattoo artist.” As an afterthought, she added, “I’m fourteen next month.”

Reese swallowed the angry sentiment toward some random vil-

lain named
Buddy
. “I’ll go and see about some first-aid supplies. You wait right here.”

Relief washed over her when she returned to the kitchen to find

Jeane at the stove alone, her helpers scattered. Reese approached and stood close to her.

“Jeane,” she said softly. “Do you have a first-aid kit?”

“Are you hurt?” she asked.

“No. I’m fine. I’m just looking for some antiseptic like there

might be in a first-aid kit.”

“Under the sink in the master bathroom, dear. Help yourself.”

Reese found the bright red metal box tucked to the side of the

cabinet, consoled with the sheer size of it. The substantial box surely held what she needed.

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She carried it to the bedroom where Hannah waited on the bed

just where she’d left her.

“Did you tell?” she asked.

“No. Telling is your job. One thing at a time.” Reese unclamped

the box and lifted it open. The first thing she noticed was an array of bandages and a large tube of Neosporin. “Oh, this looks really good.

It has everything we need for the time being.” After tearing a corner of the plastic bag that held a supply of cotton gauze, she placed her hand on the reddened skin to the side of the ink. As expected, it radiated an unnatural amount of body heat.

“It’s hot, right?” Hannah said.

“Yes, it is. You know, what you did was very dangerous,” Reese

told her as she cleaned the infected area. “And your friend’s brother was extremely irresponsible to help you do it.”

“He does it all the time.”

“To adults,” she pointed out, and Hannah jerked from her touch.

“Oooh, sorry. I know that’s tender. Anyway, I want you to promise me you’re never going to do anything like this again until you’re old enough to
legally
decide for yourself. And even then, I want you to give it some serious thought, Hannah. This is no small thing.”

“Okay,” she agreed, albeit with a grudge.

“You promise.”

“I promise.”

“After you talk to your mom and dad, I want to drive you back

into town to the hospital.”