Page 12 of When in December

My sister went on about how she couldn’t possibly plan the entire holiday now that she was back at work yada yada. I couldn’t fully understand, according to her. I never held down an eight to five job in a professional office or become a parent or even had a family other than her who called occasionally to bicker at me. So how could I? But, you know what? I didn’t want to. Mostly, because I was still hung up on what she said a minute ago. I wasn’t supposed to be here?

I agreed. However, that wasn’t the point.

Where else did anyone ever expect me to be?

After I’d spent more than a couple of tours overseas, you’d think they’d be glad that I was still answering the phone at all,let alone not completely biting my sister’s head off for hiring some fancy home firm to make the one place I had left to look like something out of a magazine you saw on the shelves at the grocery store. I was sure, knowing her taste, it’d probably be stark clinical whites and pops of gold.

“How often will she be here?”

“As often as she needs to be until Christmas. Do I need to repeat that no one was supposed to be in the house until the thirteenth of December, if not after?” reminded Sarah.

“And on the twelfth day of Christmas, your true love gave to thee, your fucked-up brother returning from overseas?”

“If you’d like, but I think he already did that part,” said Sarah. “Now, we’re just waiting for you to actually come home to us and stop being an asshole.”

Well, she’d certainly gotten Mom’s guilt-trip abilities down. It was going to be red-and-green plaid everywhere, too, if she got her way.

Fuck.

I grunted.

“Thank you,” she said.

“If I don’t like what happens, if she gets in my business?—”

“Aaron—”

“Then it’s over.”

“Give it a chance. Like I said, you weren’t even supposed to be there to notice. Don’t be difficult.”

I wasn’t the one making things difficult.

“I have to go. Let the designer they sent know that she has free rein and to message me if she has any other questions since I’m not going to make it to the consultation there today. She can also message me if you give her problems,” my sister added.

“Would’ve been nice to know someone had a key to my house.”

“You weren’t supposed to be there!” Sarah cried. “I’ll talk to you later. Next time, it might be nice to call when youwant totalk to me.”

I hung up the phone and made my way back toward the door before pausing. I still only wore a towel.

This day couldn’t get any better, could it?

The girl was still standing exactly where I left her. Her attention locked on where I gripped the towel in my hand before her eyes swung up to meet mine. Her eyes were wide and the oddest gray-blue, as if the color began to fade out of them.

How old was she? She looked like she could still be in school.

At the very least, she looked the epitome of a preschool teacher, if a preschool teacher wore pants with little pink bows all over them.

Along the back wall, double French doors had been installed. There used to be a single window there that leaked when it rained. The fancy glass doors led onto the brand-new patio I hadn’t taken notice of until now either, mostly covered in waves of white.

My sister must’ve been busy on this place since they’d found out I was coming back.

So was the weather. It’d snowed.

Huh.

Carefully, the girl—what had Sarah said her name was again? I couldn’t remember and wanted to curse myself for forgetting things so easily—cleared her throat. “I’m sorry if I startled you. Before.”

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