Blue Christmas (The Moody Blue Trilogy | Book One) (28 page)

She paused then
turned the key and started the car. “And for heaven’s sake, help me know when
to keep my mouth shut.”

“He looks great,
doesn’t he?” JT asked as they all rummaged through Laura’s kitchen for
something to eat.

“He does. I can’t
believe it, but he really does.” Gevin handed a plate of cold cuts over to
Marissa. “The doctors are even amazed at his progress.”

Jason loaded his
arms with jars of pickles, mayonnaise, mustard, and a bag of lettuce then
kicked the refrigerator door shut.

Sergio pulled out
a chair out for Tracey. “Didn’t they say they were going to get him up walking
in the morning?”

“Yeah, they did,”
Jennifer answered. “And I have a
great
idea.”

Jason watched the
familiar spontaneous gestures of his former fiancée. She pushed her sleek blonde
hair out of her face, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

“Here’s what I’m
thinking. Each of us could dress up like different people. Famous people. All
there to visit Jackson. Like JT—we could dress you up like Elvis, and—”

“Whoa, whoa,
whoa—wait just a minute.” JT held up his hands. “You are not gonna put me in
sequins and a cape and prance me down that hospital hall. No way.” He smirked,
looking over the top of his tinted glasses at her.

“Where’s your
sense of humor, JT? Do this for Jackson if you won’t do it for me. C’mon!”

“Jennifer? It
ain’t gonna happen. Got it?”

“I forgot how
stubborn you are,” she fussed, shaking her head. “Okay, fine. Be a spoil sport.
Just come as you are. That’s always a trip anyway. Now Sergio and Gevin. I was
thinking we could—”

“Sorry, Jennifer,
but I’ll pass on this one.” Sergio avoided eye contact with her, concentrating
on the sandwich he was building.

“Count me out
too,” Gevin added. “It just doesn’t feel right. Not now. Not yet.”

“You guys aren’t
being much help here,” Jennifer groaned. “I’m just trying to think of some way
to cheer Jackson up. Take his mind off everything. Remember how much he’s
always loved our pranks? C’mon, you guys.”

“I don’t know,
Jen,” Jason said. “I’ve got to agree with Gevin. It just doesn’t feel right.
Not now.” He caught the disappointment on her face.

“Not now? Jason, why
not
now? Why not let Jackson know how happy we are that he’s okay?”

Jason shrugged, slapping
a couple pieces of provolone on his sandwich.

Marissa closed the
loaf of bread. “I hate to be a party pooper, but I have to agree with the guys.
I love a good joke, but I don’t know—I guess it feels a little over the top or
something. Sorry, Jen.”

Jennifer looked
around the table. “What’s the matter with you all? Where’s your spirit of compassion?”

The clatter of
knives against plates and jars cluttered the silence.

“Okay, okay. I get
the message. So we’ll forget the group approach. But surely one of you will
help me out here? Jason?”

“Sorry, Jen.”

Jason watched her
eyes widen with frustration. He knew she meant well and he had to admit he
appreciated her intentions. Still.

“JT? C’mon, you’ll
do this, won’t you?”

JT walked over to
Jennifer, summoning her into his arms. “Now, now—don’t give up on us. We’ll
come around eventually. It’s just been a really rough week. That’s all. Cut us
some slack here. Okay, babe?”

She rolled her
eyes and stepped into his hug with a sigh of defeat.

“You are one crazy
woman. I forgot how fun you are to have around. Let me tell you, you’re a
breath of fresh air after all that’s happened. It’s good to have you back, Jen.”

The awkward
silence gnawed at Jason. Jennifer was here because of him. She showed up out of
love for him, for Jackson—for all of them. He loved her for that. In spite of
everything, he genuinely loved her for that.

So why do I
feel so miserable?

He took a deep
breath and tried to smile at her as she unwrapped herself from JT’s arms and
headed his way. She tucked herself beneath Jason’s arm, wrapping her other arm
around his waist.

A palpable strain still
permeated the air. Jason didn’t miss the uneasy glances from Marissa and Gevin.
They all loved Jennifer. She had been part of their “family” for a long, long
time. Ordinarily, it would have seemed so natural to have her here again,
involved in their lives again.

But it didn’t feel
natural. At all.

Too much had
happened. Too many mixed feelings. Only a few days ago, they had all sat at
this same table. Now Jackson was in the hospital, Alli at his side, and Liza was
incarcerated.

And Jason’s arm
was around someone entirely different.

Chapter 20

“
T
his is getting a little old, don’t you think?”

Hannah sat in her
easy chair, a rumpled mess wrapped in her pale pink chenille robe. She watched
Kylie survey the damage as she dropped her purse and keys on the table by the
front door. She pulled off her coat and tossed it onto the back of the sofa.

“I mean, how long
are you going to keep up this ritual of leaving work every time you feel the
tears coming on? You planning to hide out here for the rest of your life?” She
walked to the kitchen and began picking up the dirty dishes. “And more
importantly, am I gonna get paid for being your maid? Geez, Hannah, this place
is a pig sty.”

Kylie turned on
the kitchen faucet then turned to look at her. Hannah stared back at her then
looked down at her hands, picking at the chipped nail polish on her thumb.

She heard Kylie blow
out an exasperated sigh as she tossed dishes into the sink, attempting to clear
off the counter. Finally, the redhead shut off the faucet.

“When was last
time you had a hot meal? Huh?” Kylie planted a hand on her hip.

Hannah shrugged.

“Don’t give me
that. I asked you a question. When was the last time you had a hot meal?”

“Um . . .
I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

“Well, you’re
gonna have one now. I’m gonna make us some spaghetti and you’re gonna eat every
bite if I have to force-feed you, got it?”

Hannah moved slowly
to the counter as Kylie began putting their meal together. In less than twenty
minutes, she had prepared two steaming plates of pasta. The loaf of French
bread she’d found in the freezer had warmed quickly in the oven, filling the
apartment with a delicious aroma.

Hannah’s stomach growled.
She took a seat at the table. Kylie sat down across from her. Her friend made
small talk as they ate, repeating how pleased she was to see Hannah eating a
few bites. She tore off a hunk of the crusty bread and put it on Hannah’s
plate.

“You don’t have to
be my nursemaid.”

“Oh? Funny, it
looks to me like
somebody
better take care of you because you're
certainly not doing a very good job of it. Go on. Eat. I refuse to let you
starve yourself.”

They continued in silence.
Hannah managed a few more bites of spaghetti then chewed slowly on the bread.
Finally, she pushed the plate away. “Thanks, Kylie.”

“Don’t thank me.
In fact, you’re the one who’s supplying dessert. Come on, let’s go sit on the
sofa. The coffee’s ready. I’ll bring it over.”

“What dessert?”

They settled into
the living area, both nurturing hot mugs of hazelnut coffee.

“You’re going to
tell me everything. Whether you want to or not. This ridiculous merry-go-round
you’re on is going to stop for a few minutes, and you’re going to tell me every
single detail just like you promised. I know it won’t be easy. But you owe it
to me, and quite frankly, I think it might be good for you.”

“I don’t see how.”

“Because maybe, by
just starting at the beginning and running all the way through it, you’ll see
it more clearly. You’ll sort through this heartache you’re suffering from and
be able to find some way to handle it.”

“Kylie, I don’t
think—”

“I didn’t ask you
to think. I just want you to talk. Start at the very beginning. If it takes all
night, then so be it. Now, tell me. How in the world did you happen to meet
Jason McKenzie?”

His name suspended
in the air. The ache in her heart gripped her. She traced the rim of the mug
with her finger. Finally, she took a deep breath. “It was Laura. Jason’s mom.
She came into the store right about closing time on Christmas Eve . . .”

And so the story
unfolded. They laughed and cried and continued long into the night.

“You were right,”
Hannah said over a yawn.

“Right about
what?” Kylie asked.

“I’ve told you
everything. Every single detail. Talking about it helps. I still feel this sorrow
inside me, but somehow, it doesn’t hurt quite as much. It was all suffocating
me—I couldn’t handle it. But now, after telling you everything . . .
I don’t know, it just helps. A lot.” Then she snickered. A little at first,
then she laughed out loud.”

“What?”

“You. Your
forehead is caved like some pitiful arch of empathy or something. It’s like
you’ve taken on the pain I’ve shared, and it’s warped your face into this,
this—”

“And that’s
somehow
funny
to you?” Kylie mourned. “I’m distraught from hearing maybe
the most depressing story I’ve ever heard. And you sit there laughing at the
expression on my face? Geez, Hannah.”

“Oh, c’mon. Let me
have a couple moments of laughter.” She wiped her eyes. “Because this may all
be new to you, but I’ve been living it for weeks, Kylie. And no offense, but
you look like some poor little puppy or—”

“Like Bambi when
his mother got shot?”

“What?”

“Well, I kinda
feel
like Bambi must have felt when his mother got shot. Remember? That horrible
emptiness you felt when you saw that movie?” Kylie stared at the dust particles
floating in the light of the lamp, her mind revisiting the old Disney film
scene. “Your story . . . it makes me feel a little like that.”

Hannah pulled the
quilt over her legs again. “Oh don’t be so melodramatic. It’s just life. That’s
all. People fall in and out of love every day. It’s no big deal.”

Kylie tilted her
head, not buying the nonchalant remark. “Well, excuse me, but I don’t think so.
Not like this. This isn’t some college romance or . . . or some
silly holiday fling, Hannah.”

Hannah yawned and stretched,
then snuggled into the sofa. “I know.”

“But I’m really
sorry. All this time . . . ever since I got back to town and
you’ve been so upset and you wouldn’t tell me all this and then I found out
about Jason and that you’d been actually
involved
with these people.
Well, I was just stunned! I was so shocked that you—and them—and gosh,
Hannah—it’s
Out of the Blue
!”

“Yeah . . .”
Hannah’s eyes slowly closed. “Blue . . .”

“But I’m so sorry.
I never
dreamed
anything like this had happened. And I feel so awful.” Kylie
poured out her heart, lamenting her downfall as a friend.

“Awful,” Hannah
mumbled. “Why do you . . .”

She waited for
Hannah to finish her thought. But her own confession couldn’t wait. “I feel
awful
because I was so jealous! The minute I put two and two together and realized
the one you were so upset about was
Jason McKenzie
and . . .
and that you’d been hanging with these people? I was
beyond
jealous. And
what kind of friend am I, that I would be jealous when you were so upset? I’m
horrible. Just horrible. I’m such a wretched excuse for a friend. How can you
ever forgive me? At a time when you were suffering and . . .
Hannah?”

A soft snore
answered her.

“Hannah?”

The figure buried
under the quilt on the sofa turned over and burrowed deeper. “Coffee is on
aisle four on your right.”