Page 1 of The Twelve Months of Christmas
HOW IT BEGAN
1
Sunny Hollowell had planned a perfect day for her first Christmas as a wife and stepmom and it was a fail. Who was it that said something about the best-laid plans getting screwed up? Whoever it was, her mom liked to quote him a lot.
“The best-laid plans of mice and men,” her mom had begun when Sunny told her about the latest development as she and Dad walked in the door, presents in tow.
“And women,” Sunny had added before Mom could finish. Women who were trying their best to be a good wife and mother, women who only wanted to bring two families together for a memorable day.
The day was memorable all right, but not in the way Sunny had intended.
It all began at eight in the morning. Sunny had found a recipe online for a crescent roll breakfast pastry with a cherry filling shaped like a candy cane and, to her surprise and glee, it had actually turned out like the picture, ready for the kids to be dropped off by their mom at nine o’clock. She was laying it out on the family room coffee table for everyone to enjoy while they opened presents when the Weed called Travis to let him know that she wasn’t going to bring the kids over for the big day.
“What do you mean you’re still stuck in Spokane?” Travis had growled into his cell phone.
Sunny had watched the anger roll over his features like a breaking storm.Scratch two kids from the guest list. Tansy strikes again.
“You did this on purpose,” he’d accused.
Of course, Tansy would deny it. That was how she rolled. Mess with the ex and his new wife as much as possible but never let it look like you meant to. Was Tansy’s mother psychic when she named her daughter after a noxious weed?
“Well, thanks a lot,” Travis had growled. “Way to screw up Christmas for the kids.”
“Okay, what happened?” Sunny had asked after he ended the call and dumped his phone on the coffee table.
“She did it again, managed to screw us over,” he’d said, and slumped on the sofa. “She and Jared accidentally—” he held up exaggerated air quotes “—missed their flight home last night and are stuck at his parents’ place.”
“Can’t they get another flight out? There has to be something going out today.” Of course, by the time they got to Bremerton, Washington, breakfast and Christmas dinner would long be over.
“Not until tomorrow.”
Sunny had made a superhuman effort to blink back tears. Poor Travis was already upset about not getting to be with his kids. She didn’t need to make things worse by having a holiday meltdown. But darn, she’d sure wanted to. It seemed particularly cruel that Tansy had waited twelve hours after their missed flight to tell them the kids wouldn’t make it.
“I’m sorry, babe,” he’d said, and he’d looked like he wanted to cry.
“It’s okay. We’ll have a nice day and do a belated Christmas with the kids later.”
But it wasn’t a nice day. Here she sat in her PJ bottoms and red sweater and her Santa hat, watching as her husband of eight months fumed his way through the morning. Her father wasn’t beaming, either. Dad wasn’t a fan of Travis.
According to Dad, Travis wasn’t good enough for her. Divorced and with kids and a problematic ex—he had baggage, and the theatrics today weren’t doing much to prove otherwise.
Sunny was thirty. Everyone she knew had baggage. And it wasn’t Travis’s fault his ex was a weed. Besides, she loved him. Which meant helping him carry his baggage.
“Anyone want more coffee?” she asked, trying to sound cheerful.
“Yeah,” Travis said sourly, handing her his mug. “Lace it with whiskey.” This made her dad frown, and, seeing it, Travis added, “I’m going to be Irish for the day.”
“How about you, Dad?” asked Sunny.
“I’ll have some more. Plain. I’m not Irish,” he said, looking at Travis like a school principal ready to put a problem student on suspension. Since Dad had been a school principal, it was an expression that came easily to him.
“I could use a refill,” her mother said, and followed Sunny to the kitchen.
“This is so not what I imagined today would be like,” Sunny said in a low voice as she set the cups on the counter. She looked to where the two men sat, the bad boy and the disapproving principal.
Her mother laid a comforting hand on her arm. “I know. Try to remember that it’s only one day.”
“It’s an important day. Christmas is supposed to be fun and filled with love,” Sunny said.
