Page 23 of Santa of the Creek
I sigh. “You mean you don’t already know. I bet the whole town knows by now.”
“Of course they do, dear,” she says, her tone placid. “I’m just making conversation.”
I apologize, because she’s the only member of my family who cares if I live or die and I don’t want to upset her.
“Don’t think about it,” she says. “It’s been a rough twenty-four hours for you. You stay in bed, and I’ll be over later to bring you something bad for you from the ceremony.”
“With chocolate?” I ask hopefully.
“Would I do anything else…and don’t mention the 2012 fair. That was one time and only because your brother insisted you loved broccoli. And I made up for it.”
“It was my brother,” I point out. “He hates me.”
“I didn’t know that at the time.”
She hadn’t, and her relationship with her sister, my mom, was as rocky as mine with my brother, so no one had told her. When the other kids had gotten chocolate, and I received a bag of broccoli I thought she hated me too. I’d burst into tears and run away. She’d been the one to find me. No one else in my family had bothered.
This kinda sums up my life. Hebe is the one diamond in the dung pile of my family. I’m probably mixing metaphors here. So, no upsetting the aunty.
“A vegetable-free treat please,” I request.
“Understood.”
Uh-oh. Her wicked grin worries me. I brace myself for whatever is coming next.
“Dean is taking over your Santa role.”
“Huh? It was one afternoon.”
She hoots with laughter. “You can’t be that naïve to think it would be one afternoon. Gloria had you down for the whole month.”
I stare at her in horror. “No.”
“Uh-huh. Now Dean is going to be Santa.”
“But he hates Christmas.”
The smile slides off her face. “He does. But maybe it’s time for him to realize that Christmas doesn’t hate him.”
“I don’t understand, Aunty.” I sit up, careful not to jog my ankle, and run my hand through my hair.
I didn’t like the idea of Dean being forced to do something he didn’t want to do. That’s bullying, and Gloria is full-on, but I never thought she was a bully. I’m surprised at my aunt condoning it. She isn’t usually like that.
“You should ask Dean.”
“You’re not going to explain, are you?”
“No. It’s his story.”
“Not if the whole town is involved in bullying him.”
Aunt Hebe looks shocked at my heated words. “No one wants to bully him, Echo. We just want him to live again.”
A light flicks on inside my head. “It’s to do with the accident, isn’t it?”
Her mouth falls open. “He told you about it?”
“He mentioned it in passing.”
