Home with My Sisters (9 page)

“Hi, Faith.”

“You do know that Christmas is still three weeks away.”

“Your point is?”

“Why are you headed there so early?” Faith sounded annoyed. Probably because none of this was her idea and Faith thought she should be the one spearheading everything.

“I'm on break and Austin generously offered me a ride.” Austin gave a smile and a nod at this. Hope wondered if Faith could hear her smiling through the phone. Her sisters were coming! She was off this early in the season thanks to her Whine and Cheese event, but if she mentioned anything about her work with dogs Faith would roll her eyes. And even though they weren't video chatting, Hope would still be able to feel that eye roll through the phone. Faith was even less of a dog person than Michael. Hope glanced at the hound. A long piece of drool dangled from his jowl. Hope wiped it off with her sleeve. The dog thanked her by licking her chin. She gently pushed his big face away. Faith was not going to be happy to see the lovable beast. The thought made Hope smile even wider.

“Austin said there's room for all of us at the house—kids, husbands, boyfriends.”
And dogs
. “I guess our grandmother's late husband was loaded.” She wondered the minute it was out of her mouth if Austin would think she was being callous, but if he did, he didn't let it show.

“Joy will be overwhelmed.”

“That's not what I meant.” Hope really didn't want to discuss Joy's motives for visiting with Austin listening.

“I remembered meeting her a second time,” Faith said.

“I don't even remember the first time,” Hope sulked. Austin glanced over. Hope looked away.

“She lived in a trailer. Dad went out to buy her cigarettes and we waited for him. She insisted on getting a picture of us before we left.”

“How come I don't remember that?”

“You were only four. We didn't stay long.”

“Was Mom there?”

“No, just us.”

“I don't remember.”

“Just as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“Prepare yourself. From what I remember she was a nasty old woman. She didn't care about us at all. Definitely didn't act like a grandmother.”

“Are you sure it was her?”

“Unless Dad introduced some other random, nasty woman living in a trailer as our grandmother. Yes, I'm sure.”

“I was just asking.” Hope needed to change the subject, get the focus off of her. “I met Joy's boyfriend.”

“And?”

“He was a lot nicer to me than she was.”

“She likes to hold a grudge.”

“Oh my God. You do know why she's mad at me.”

“I do. But I'm not going to tell you.”

No one else on earth could make Hope feel so childish than her sisters. Within seconds. It was insane. “You have to tell me!” She hated carrying on like this with Austin in the car. He was whistling softly, looking out at the scenery, pretending he couldn't hear a word. The dog on the other hand had cocked his head and was staring at the phone like he wanted to eat it. Which he probably did. Hope was pretty sure the beast was part goat. He had eaten a huge chunk of the comforter out of the We Three Kings motel.

“Who's going to break the news to Carla?” Faith laid it on thick when she pronounced the name and Hope could imagine her rolling her eyes.

“Maybe she'll come too,” Hope said.

“Dream on.”

“Does she know why Joy is mad at me?”

“You have to stop caring.”

“Why? How?”

“Because it's going to turn you into a doormat. Call Carla.” There was a
click
and Faith was gone. She glanced at Austin. Finally, he met her eyes.

“Everything all right?”

“I need to make another call.”

“No problem.”

“Can we find a bar first?”

“A bar?”

“I have to call my mother. That's going to require a stiff drink first.”

“Say no more. We're almost to Leavenworth. I'll drop you off in town. There's a ton of restaurants and bars. I'll point to some of my faves. I can give you some time to explore on your own, pick you up before we go to Yvette's?”

Hope didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until she let it out. “That sounds perfect.”

CHAPTER 10

Austin dropped Hope off at a small tavern that specialized in beer and regret. It was dim and smelled like ale and shoe polish. Flanking the entrance were a couple of plaster figures dressed in Bavarian costumes and holding out a plate with a giant sausage.

“There are nicer places,” Austin said. “But it's quiet here.”

“It's perfect.”

“I'll give you some privacy. Text me when you're ready.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“It will give me a chance to do some Christmas shopping,” Austin said with a wink. He was such a nice man. If he liked her grandmother, she couldn't be as bad as Faith said. Or maybe the years had mellowed her into a nicer person. Hope was looking forward to meeting her. But first she had to break the news to her mother. No matter how happy Carla seemed, she was still haunted by their father's disappearance. And Yvette Garland was at the top of the list when it came to whom she blamed. “That woman is keeping him somehow,” she said once, her hair plastered to her forehead by sweat. This was before their mother went on meds. The longer her husband stayed away without contacting her, the more paranoid she became. At some point they just stopped discussing their father. It was too painful.

There were only a few old men at the bar, so she was able to curl up at a back booth and call her mother. The tavern had free Wi-Fi, so first Hope thoroughly depressed herself by scrolling through Facebook. All her Facebook Friends seemed amped up on Christmas cheer. Posting recipes, and holiday plans, and family pictures, and reindeer already. Twinkling lights, and ugly sweaters, and cat memes. Kissing. Bragging. Cheering. Happy times twelve—as if all her friends were mainlining peppermint-laced steroids. These are my Facebook Friends. These are my Facebook Friends on Christmas. Bah humbug!

Hope knew Facebook wasn't real life, but she couldn't help feeling a twinge of panic whenever someone posted memes about sisters. Everyone, it seemed, cherished their sisters. And it was mutual. Heart emojis, smiling faces, cradle to grave proclamations. Hope was determined to get her sisters to feel the same. To rekindle the bond they once had as children. That couldn't just disappear, could it? Back then Faith would have wrestled an alligator if it was threatening either Joy or Hope. Probably Joy. Who else would provoke an alligator? They used to fight too. Hope even missed the fighting. You knew you were loved when you made someone so angry they physically wrestled you to the ground. Faith once pummeled Hope for stealing her first McDonald's French fry. Not the last fry, which may have been forgivable. The first hot, salty one out of the box. Hope was twelve, which meant Faith was sixteen. Hope, of course, had no idea she only had one more year left of living with her sister. They had gone to the beach and then McDonald's for dinner. Against Faith's warnings, Hope had decided to order an apple pie instead of a meal, but when she smelled those fries, she had to have one. She reached for Faith's fries one second, swiped a long one out of the box, and the next thing she knew she was down on the dirty linoleum with Faith on top of her pummeling away, her normally beautiful face swollen with homicidal rage. Joy stood over them with a grin sucking on a strawberry milkshake. You had to really love someone to fly into such a rage you'd kill them over a French fry. God, she missed her sisters.

But now she had to deal with her mother. She could video chat with Carla, but Hope didn't actually feel like looking at her. She dialed her number instead.

“Yes?” her mother answered on the third ring. Why couldn't she just say hello like a normal person?

“Hi, Carla.” Even though they had been doing it for years, it still felt weird to call her mother by her first name.

“Hope, sweetheart. I'm off to Cuba for Christmas.”

“I heard.”
On Facebook
. “I was hoping I could talk you into coming here for Christmas.”

“Next year you girls are coming here and I won't take no for an answer. Maybe we'll all go to Cuba.” Suddenly her mother was in love with Cuba. She'd always wanted things she couldn't have.

Hope took a deep breath. There was no easy way to say this, she was just going to have to come out with it. “Grandma Garland contacted us. She's dying. We're going to Leavenworth to spend Christmas with her and we want you to come. In fact, I'm here now.” There was silence on the other end.

“Your father?” The words sounded as if they'd been torn from her mother's throat.

“I don't know. Austin—that's her neighbor—he's the one who brought me here. He says we'll have to ask her. And I intend to do just that.”

“You haven't already?”

“I haven't met her yet. We just rolled into town. I'm at a pub. I wanted to call you first.”

“Don't do it. Don't ruin our Christmas.”

Hope didn't know what she expected from her mother, but it wasn't this. How was she the one ruining Christmas? “What?”

“We've been doing fine, haven't we?”

“What if he's alive?”

“If he's alive, then he abandoned us. And I want no part of that.”

“And if something happened?”

“Then it's going to ruin Christmas. For all of us.”

“It's too late to turn back now. I'm here.”

“I forbid you to see her.”

“You can't.”

“Do it for me.”

“Mom.” Her mom sniffled. And she didn't reprimand her with a “Carla.” Hope hated upsetting her. Especially around Christmas. “Join us. Let's face this together. Maybe it's actually a gift.” Hope stopped short of saying a Christmas miracle. She couldn't shake the feeling that her father was guiding them here. At Christmas of all times. That he wanted them to have answers. To have peace. The trauma of losing him was the wound that kept all of them from being close. If they could just heal, then they would have a chance at being a real family.

“A gift?” Her mother sounded furious. “A gift is something you can exchange for cash.”

Hope made a mental note to always give her mother cash from now on. “I'd rather know the truth than spend the rest of my life in the dark. We've been without him for the past two decades. I have to know what happened to him and the one person on earth who probably knows is dying.”

“I can't believe you girls would do this to me.”

“She's our grandmother.”

“You think she's going to leave you something?”

“Of course not.”
Joy does
. Hope kept that to herself.

“That woman is a master manipulator.”

“People change when they're about to face death. I think she just wants to see us before she passes on.”

“That old witch will live until a hundred, mark my words.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.”

“You did.”

“I just want to be with my mom and my sisters for Christmas.” Hope could feel the tears coming. She didn't want to cry, but she was suddenly so exhausted.

“Don't you cry. This is supposed to be my pity party,” Carla said.

Hope sighed. She knew her mother never got over their father breaking her heart. But they'd lost a father. Why didn't she see it that way? “Merry Christmas. Call us from Cuba. Don't let Castro change his mind and kidnap you. Bring back cigars.” Hope didn't want to end things on a bad note. Maybe it was for the best that her mother wasn't part of this. Maybe her grandmother would open up more if it was just the girls.

“I'll have a better time if you tell me you're not going.”

“We're going. But we'll have a miserable time. Is that better?”

“Don't tell me anything. Unless I ask. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Your sisters are going too?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you finally got what you wanted. Congratulations.”

“That sounds insincere.”

“Are Stephen and the kids coming?”

“The kids are, but I don't think Stephen is.”

“Did I tell you I suspect Faith and Stephen are having problems?”

Hope sighed. She had told her. Multiple times. “Everyone has problems.”

“Do you think it's good for your sister to go through this when her marriage is falling apart?”

Hope wasn't going to take the bait. This wasn't her fault. She wasn't responsible for everyone's problems. “Don't smoke too many cigars.”

“Fernando says hello. He can't wait to meet you.”

An image of Carla's boyfriend, Fernando, commandeering his sailboat flashed through Hope's mind. He stood at the wheel, looking into the camera with a gap-toothed grin. He was dark skinned and wore a white visor on top of thick black hair, sported mirrored sunglasses, a pot belly, and red swim trunks littered with parrots. He seemed like he was all about fun, fun, fun. Hope prayed he was nice too. Her mother often fell victim to bad boys, her father being the worst of them. Thomas Garland had been young, tatted-up, and had ridden into Carla's life on a Harley. He'd been wearing a Santa cap too. That might have been adorable, had it not been for the reason for the Santa cap: a holiday pub crawl. Thomas was drunk the first time they met—and driving.

Even so, Hope could only imagine what Thomas would have thought of Fernando and his parrots. “Hi back. Later, Carla.” Her mother had just started to say something else when Hope clicked off. She'd never know for sure she'd been hung up on. It was petty, Hope knew, but sometimes she had to get her jollies, no matter how microscopic.

Hope texted Austin that she was done with her phone calls but added that she wanted to look around the main street a bit before leaving. She stood outside the tavern on Front Street gazing at all the colorful Bavarian shops. The backdrop of the Cascade Mountains was stunning. It was easy to imagine oneself in an old-fashioned German village. The hamlet had been given its new theme in the sixties, a ploy designed to save the town from extinction and bring back tourists. It worked. Leavenworth was a winter wonderland. There was even a nutcracker shop. Nussknacker Haus. As Hope entered the shop, she immediately felt lighter and joyful. The shelves were stacked with nutcrackers from all over the world. Christmas carols played in the background. A shop clerk greeted her enthusiastically.

Hope wanted to buy a pair of nutcrackers—there were so many—such a variety of Christmas themes and craftsmen. What a perfect gift to offer her grandmother upon meeting. They were quite expensive. Perhaps Hope would have to buy something simpler, an ornament perhaps. The shopkeeper must have sensed her dilemma for he soon showed her a tiny discount section where there were two adorable nutcrackers in Santa outfits. They had slight defects, the products of too many tourists handling them, but the markdown was enough that Hope decided to spring for the pair. Maybe she could set them up on either side of the entrance to her grandmother's house. Hope liked the thought of the nutcrackers being there to greet Joy and Faith when they arrived. Hope was going to get them all into the Christmas spirit, so, whether they liked it or not, here comes slightly damaged nonreturnable nutcrackers.
Take that, Faith. Take that, Joy.

She wanted to buy more, and she also wanted to go to the store and get ingredients and supplies to make her famous Christmas sugar cookies with buttercream icing—isn't that something you do with a grandmother and your lovely sisters at Christmas? But it was probably best to wait until a little later. Tucking a nutcracker under each arm, and gazing once more up and down the quaint street, positively glowing with lights and cheer, she called Austin and told him she was ready. She couldn't wait to explore this adorable town further. But now she was ready to meet her grandmother. A ripple of excitement hit her. This was the quintessential place to spend Christmas. Magic was in the air. She had a very strong feeling that this year was going to be life changing. And she, for one, couldn't wait for it to change.

* * *

Austin's pickup rambled up, and Hope peered into the cab. The slobbery face of the dog greeted her, and he eyed the nutcrackers like they were juicy bones. “Not for you,” Hope said. Austin got out of the truck, which was rather gentlemanly of him, and although he reached to take the nutcrackers out of her arms, he looked alarmed.

“What's this?”

“Aren't they adorable?”

Austin pointed. “This one has a chip on its nose—”

“At least it's not its shoulder,” Hope interrupted.

“And this one—”

Hope swatted his finger away. “They were marked down.”

“The island of misfit nutcrackers?” Austin joked.

“Something like that. I thought we'd surprise my grandmother. We can prop these babies up on either side of her front door.”

Austin held a nutcracker under each arm and glanced back at the store. “I think we should return them.”

“Why? Because they aren't perfect?”

“Of course not.”

“I love them.”

“There's something I forgot to tell you.”

He looked so handsome. And serious. “What?”

“Your grandmother doesn't want to celebrate Christmas.”

“That's because she was dying alone. She has us now.”

“No, she really doesn't want to celebrate. I was supposed to tell you. I didn't know you were going to buy these.”

Hope grabbed the nutcrackers back and placed them in the cab of his truck. “I'm keeping them,” she said. “You told me. Mission accomplished. Now let me deal with Christmas and my grandmother.”

Austin still looked worried, but he nodded. Hope gently shoved the dog out of the way as she got in the cab. “Move over, Mr. Jingles.”