Then…boom.
Her picture-book world had fallen apart in the blink of an eye. On a family vacation, they’d all been driving down a mountain road after a fun day of snowboarding. And then their car had skidded on black ice.
She was the only survivor.
After a week in the hospital, she’d been released, with nowhere to go where she felt safe. After dropping out of school — she couldn’t face anything or anyone — she’d found herself at this apartment, both her place of refuge and a spot where she hoped to heal someday.
She knew it wasn’t her fault that her family was gone. But why was she the only one to live? Why wasn’t it her mother, who did charity work, or her father, who made a difference in the world through his teaching? Why couldn’t her brother have survived? He’d graduated from high school the previous June and planned to join the military after college. He’d have been an officer and a gentleman.
No, she’d been the one to survive. The only one who still didn’t know what she wanted to do with her life. So now she found herself taking odd jobs, just trying to hang on, instead of really living.
She’d been left her parents’ home when they’d passed, along with a substantial inheritance, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to use the funds or to stay in that house. She hadn’t been there since the accident. She was too afraid to face the memories of those empty rooms. Seeing her dad wrestling with her brother on the living room floor, hearing their laughter and her mother’s sweet singing ringing in from the kitchen. They were such an old-fashioned family in many ways — more than half a century later, they’d somehow captured the best of the 1950s without the worst that went along with it.
Never again would she and her brother wake up on Christmas morning and rush downstairs to open the gifts her parents had so lovingly picked out. The realization that these memories would play continually and vividly in her mind, although she would never see her family again in real life, whatever that was, made it all too overwhelming to face.
Kyla shook off the thoughts. It had been months since she’d allowed such painful memories to intrude so forcefully, but with Christmas not much more than three weeks away, her family was front and center more than ever before.
After all, December 23rd was the day her life had been irrevocably changed, the day she’d lost her family and suddenly found herself an orphan. It didn’t look as if she’d ever again be able to enjoy the holiday she had once cherished.
Kyla was trying to put herself out in the world again, trying to meet people. She wasn’t interested in dating, but the odd tingling her new neighbor had inspired shocked her. He couldn’t have touched her heart — it was encased in ice. But he’d still had some effect on her, and considering his standoffish behavior, that made no sense at all.
Maybe it was because he’d been so cold in the way he spoke, and then so very hot to the touch. No matter. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and then told herself she wouldn’t think about her temporary neighbor again.
Heck, the current owner of this stupid mass of brick and mortar, whoever had taken it over wanted them all kicked out on the street. She really didn’t know how long she was going to get to stay. The thought of moving, of leaving the place she’d chosen as somewhere to heal, was terrifying. She didn’t want to leave yet. She just wasn’t ready.
Kyla felt herself drawn to her kitchen. What was going on? She went there slowly and was surprised when for the first time in two years she found herself succumbing to the urge to bake. It was something she and her mother had always done together, since before Kyla could have been any use at all except in licking the bowls. They would spend all day in the kitchen, whipping up goodies for family, friends, and neighbors. It had been a tradition, one that had died the minute her mother’s heart had stopped beating.
As Kyla set out the items needed to make cookies, she found herself singing Christmas hymns, feeling a measure of peace that she had feared she would never feel again.
Three hours later, she pulled out the last batch of gingerbread men — and women and children, of course — and looked at her covered counters. Tears sparkled in her eyes as she painted frosting faces on the ones that had cooled off. When she lifted one up and took a bite, a soft smile lit her face. It felt like her mom was right there beside her. Kyla closed her eyes to relish the warmth of the moment.
Reluctantly coming back to reality, Kyla whispered, “Merry Christmas, Mom,” before putting everything away, turning off the lights in the room, and getting ready for bed. Tomorrow she had work to do at the mall.
For now she was going to get lost in a good book while she waited for the forgetfulness of sleep to take her away.
Chapter Five
Special delivery.”
Tanner stood at his door with his jaw locked and fire burning in his eyes. This was so not happening to him.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” he snapped.
“Is that any way to treat your relatives?”
His brother Ashton and a newfound cousin, Max Anderson, were standing at his door with big grins on their faces.
“I didn’t tell anyone I was going to be here, so I don’t know how in the hell you managed to track me down,” he said, opening the door and letting them inside, though he wanted to slam it in their faces instead. There was no use in trying to keep them out now that they knew where he was stuck for the next few weeks.
“Wow! This place must really suck for you, big shot,” Ashton said with a laugh.
“Damn! I’ve seen cardboard boxes that have more class,” Max added.
“Okay, are you going to crack jokes the entire visit?” Tanner asked. “Or are you going to tell me how you found me here and what you want?” He was pacing the room, really irritated that he had nowhere to sit and no alcohol to drink.
“I talked to Dad and he told me about your current situation. You know I had to check it out for myself. Max happened to stop by as I was getting ready to leave, and he didn’t want to miss out on all the fun either.”
“I’m so glad you care so much, little brother,” Tanner snarled.
“I’d say you got one of the crappier properties. Don’t forget that you did choose it.”
“I chose it because I was planning on ripping this wretched place down and then building something that would actually add value to this benighted neighborhood. But with Dad’s clauses, I can’t force the tenants out. I’ve upped their move-out bonuses by triple and they’re still being stubborn fools. Then some cracked judge made me stay here to show me what it’s like for people who have less than I have. He’s the one who will be shown, because I don’t cave under pressure.”