Page 132 of Kings & Chaos

“It is.” She would hate it. She was definitely a sandy beach kind of person, preferably accompanied by a cocktail or four.

“I’m glad you’re having a nice time,” she said. “I’ll keep your Christmas gifts for when you come home next time.”

“Thanks.” I would have to buy her something when the Kings and I got back to civilization. “I miss you, Mom. And I…” I sucked in a breath around the grief that squeezed my throat. “I miss Emma too.”

I miss everything. I miss the way things used to be.

I thought she might get mad. She did sometimes when I mentioned Emma. I knew it was because Emma’s disappearance hurt her too, that she was trying to move on in the only way she knew how, but it was hard not talking about Emma.

“I miss her too,” she said quietly.

I let the silence linger.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” I finally said, because what else was there to say?

“Merry Christmas, Willa. I love you.”

“I love you too.” It was still true, however much distance had grown between us.

I slipped my phone in my pocket and Oscar rejoined me near the rocks. He took one look at my face and drew me into his arms. “You okay?”

I nodded against his chest, but the words that came out were, “Not really.”

He pulled back to look at me, then bent his head to kiss me. “You know what you need?”

“Hot sex with you and Rock?”

He laughed. “I was going to say a double portion of Rock’s sweet potato casserole. The hot sex is for after dinner.”

I looked up at him. “You’re encouraging me to eat my feelings?”

“I’m encouraging you to do anything that wipes that frown off your beautiful face.” He pulled away and took my hand. “Come on, tiger. Let’s eat."

Chapter51

Willa

Iput on the only nice thing I’d brought, a simple pink cocktail dress that was among the “basics” Neo made me buy at Bergdorf to satisfy my mom. I even put on makeup and styled my hair for the first time since we’d been on the island.

And I wasn’t the only one. I made the Kings dress up too — it was Christmas after all — and we played Christmas music while Oscar and I set the table with shells and driftwood we’d found on our walk.

I half-expected Neo to make fun of me for dressing up the table, but he didn’t say a word as he stoked the fire and brought in more wood so we wouldn’t have to go back outside to keep it going.

Setting the table with found objects was one of my favorite things to do. It was how my mom had gotten Emma and me out from under her feet during special occasions — telling us to go outside and find stuff for the table.

It had been a ticket to freedom, and we’d gleefully escaped the house to search for branches and pine cones, flowers (sometimes plucked from a neighbor’s yard — oops) and polished rocks.

Gathering table decorations with Oscar hadn’t had the same wild abandon it had with Emma, but it had still been fun, and he’d quickly gotten into the game of finding things that would make the table look pretty in between snapping pictures of me.

Oscar lit the candles and I stood back to admire our work. Each setting had a napkin bundled with twine, a shell and a piece of driftwood tucked inside, and we’d nestled the candles in a bunch of greenery with tiny red berries we’d found on one of the paths.

Rock had gone all out with the food, and we gathered around the candlelit table in the formal dining room and dug into a delicious spread of turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy, sweet potato casserole, Brussels sprouts with bacon, and the soft, yeasty rolls I’d been eating like it was my job since we came to the island.

There was huckleberry pie for dessert, plus an apple cobbler and a chocolate soufflé, and we lingered around the dining table, pouring more wine and sharing memories of our childhood Christmases, their inherent dysfunction made funny by the distance of hindsight and the fact that this Christmas?

Well, this Christmas had been perfect.

For once, we left the dishes and moved into the living room where Rock switched out the music for something mellow but not Christmas-y after Neo said he couldn’t take another rendition ofCarol of the Bells.

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