Page 77 of The Twelve Months of Christmas
She looked toward the kitchen, trying to breathe normally, trying not to cry, half-wishing she could run out there and scream, “Right now I’m not too fond of you, either, you little shit!”
She saw Travis glare at his daughter, take her arm and give it a shake. “You will apologize to Sunny.”
“I will not!” Bella shouted, and stuck out her chin.
Okay, this was getting out of hand. Somebody had to do something. Something smart, and maybe laying into the kid wasn’t the smartest thing at the moment.
Sunny hurried into the kitchen and jumped into the fray. “You know what? You’re entitled to your feelings.” It was an epiphany moment. The girl was a mess, and she was making Sunny the scapegoat for her unhappiness, but how could Sunny blame her for that? Her mother had offered up Sunny from the very beginning. Still... “I’m entitled to my feelings, too,” she continued, “and right now they’re hurt. I’m sorry you hate me. I’ve tried to be kind to you, and I’ll continue to.”
Because that was what mature people did. Being mature sucked.
A red flush spread across Bella’s face and she dropped her gaze, but not before Sunny saw tears in her eyes. “I want to go home,” she muttered.
Travis looked ready to dropkick her there. “Get your coat,” he growled, and she raced through the living room, not looking at anyone.
Sunny caught his arm as he started to stalk off after his daughter. “Don’t say anything more. She already feels bad.” Sunny remembered those stormy young years. Those humiliating moments after you’d been a brat and made a fool of yourself in public were the worst.
Travis shook his head. Considering the fact that his eyes were narrowed and his jaw was clenched that head shake probably didn’t mean, “No, I won’t.”
Dylan wasn’t in trouble, but he, too, got his coat. Sibling solidarity, she supposed.
Bella was already out the door, leaving it wide open. He followed her out. Travis marched after both of them and shut the door behind him. End of Act I.
Arianna came to stand beside Sunny and put an arm on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
So was Sunny. She wanted to have a good relationship with Travis’s kids. There was hope for Dylan, but Bella was another matter. It seemed like the harder Sunny tried, the worse Bella’s attitude became. Every time the girl came over, she brought poison into their marriage. How many times could you drink poison and survive? Sunny didn’t want to think about it.
“It’ll get better,” she said, as much to herself as Arianna. She wished she could believe it.
Sunny’s mother had joined them now. “They don’t stay this age forever.”
Molly and Ava and Rae all chimed in on the kitchen counseling session as well. “You’re doing the right thing taking the high road,” Molly assured her. “But don’t let her get to you.”
“Too late,” Sunny said miserably. “I’m a mess.”
She was, indeed. One moment she couldn’t stand the child, the next she was willing to crawl over glass to win her love.
“It was a great party, anyway,” put in Ava.
“The party’s not over yet,” said Rae. “Let’s have some more sugar-free cupcakes.”
Her proposal was met with smiles and uneasy laughter, and everyone closed in to cover the ugly moment.
But it stayed fresh in Sunny’s mind and was still there after they’d all left. What was the magic formula for winning over a resentful thirteen-year-old girl?
Sunny was sure having her father yell at her all the way back to her mom’s house wouldn’t help. More logs on the hate fire.
Later that evening, after their guests had left and he’d returned, Sunny asked Travis how the ride home had gone.
He frowned and shrugged. Not a good sign.
“So, not good?”
“We’re both on her shit list.”
Sunny reached out and gave his arm a rub. “I’m sorry.”
“None of what happened is your fault. Good grief, you deserve a medal for how hard you’re trying”
