Van heard the noise. Just a click. Something outside? She peered out the bedroom window. It was late, quiet and dark.
Again the click. The sound of a door opening and closing? One of the children going to the bathroom. She lay listening. When she didn’t hear anything else, she slipped out of bed, went to the door and opened it a crack.
There was a night-light burning in the hallway in case one of the kids woke up. But down the hall, the bathroom door was open and it was dark inside.
Van eased through the door opening and quietly shut it. She wouldn’t wake up Joe; she could do this.
She padded down the hall to the bathroom. Looked inside. It was empty. She went back to the girls’ room and opened the door enough to peek inside. Kayla was asleep, but Haley’s bed was empty. Van looked on the floor, into the corners.
She slipped back into the hallway and thought she saw a movement at the front end of the hall.
It must be Haley, going to the kitchen. Maybe she just needed a glass of water. Van relaxed. She stood for a second, irresolute, then decided this was as good a time as any to have a little talk. But when she opened the kitchen door, the room was dark.
“Haley?”
No answer.
She couldn’t be going outside.
Was the girl sleepwalking? Traumatized kids did sometimes. Or had night terrors or other unusual behavior. And what did you do when that happened? Lead them back to bed without waking them up? Wake them up and risk totally freaking them out?
Van didn’t have a clue. She should have woken Joe when she first heard something, but it was too late now. She groped her way across the room unwilling to turn on the light and risk startling Haley.
And then she heard the back door open and close. And all thought of going for Joe fled. Van didn’t hesitate. Haley was outside alone. There was hardly any moon. She could get hurt or lost. If she was walking in her sleep, her judgment would be nonexistent.
Van considered yelling for help. Dismissed it. She didn’t want to alarm anyone. Not yet. She could handle this.
She cautiously followed and realized the girl had taken her coat. Haley wasn’t sleep walking. She was running away.
Van’s heart stuttered to a stop, freezing her where she stood, as her own dreaded past broke full-blown into the darkness. No, Haley. That wasn’t the answer.
Van grabbed her own jacket, slipped her feet into Mom Enthorpe’s garden clogs and ran after her.
Van could see her now, moving fast, a small shadow sliding and stumbling over the newly fallen snow. And then clouds scudded across the moon, and Van lost sight of her.
She peered down the long drive to the road, but nothing was moving there.
“Haley?” she called, not too loud, she didn’t want to frighten her. She knew about being frightened and she knew her first response was Run even when she wanted to stay.
Van turned in a full circle. There were a few trees around the house. They created comfortable shade in summer; tonight their branches rose bare in the night, but none of them hid a runaway child.
The outbuildings? She might be hiding in the shadows there.
Had she cut through the woods to the main road or fled over the vineyards where in the dark she would be lost among the rows and rows of vines? Or worse she might get disoriented and wander into the creek where they used to swim.
Van needed help. She turned back toward the house, just as a soft glow appeared in the window of the gift shop. Not the overhead lights, she realized. But the tree lights.
Van let out a breath so full of relief that it nearly knocked her over. She took a couple of calming breathes, surprised at how intense her emotions had been.
Now what? Interfere or watch from the coziness of the kitchen? She only hesitated a second before she strode forward and opened the door.
Haley was sitting on the stone floor, hugging her knees, her face lifted to the lights of the towering tree.
Van gently closed the door. The room was still a little warm from when the crew had been working there earlier. But not warm enough to sit for long.
What was she supposed to do? She didn’t know how to make things better for this frightened girl.
Despair and running were things Van knew about and she didn’t want to screw this up. One wrong word or reaction could unravel everything. She’d been there herself and even now her instinct was to run, go back to bed, not face whatever demons would come out along with Haley’s.
She stopped, surprised at her own thoughts. Run? Maybe. It’s what she did. But to bed? That’s where she was going to run to? Really?
And in the chasm between wanting to help and wanting to run away, Van had an epiphany and almost laughed out loud. If she was only running as far as back to bed, she’d made some progress in her life.
And if she could make it, surely she could help Haley.
She slipped out of the clogs. No reason to clomp over to your potentially first ever heart-to-heart.
“Mind if I sit down?”
Haley buried her face and shook her head against her knees.
Van started to sit.
“Go away.”
Now what? Van wondered as she crouched halfway to the floor. “Please?”
Haley sputtered. Her shoulders vibrated beneath her jacket then a ragged sob sprang from her, startling Van into sitting abruptly and putting her arm around the girl.
“Go away, go away, go away,” Haley cried between sobs, but since she didn’t try to move away or push Van away, Van stayed put.
She didn’t have a clue as to what to say. If only someone had followed her out. Like Mom. She’d know exactly what to do to make Haley feel better. Even Granddad would joke her out of it.
But no one came and the two of them sat there.
It was kind of peaceful with the tiny halos of light perching like fireflies among the branches.
Still her rational mind was screaming, Do something. Say something. She didn’t know where to start. So they sat there side by side, looking up at the tree until Van’s neck began to hurt. She shifted on the stone floor. “Isn’t your butt getting cold?”
Haley hiccupped. Peeked over at Van with one red-rimmed eye. Nodded.
“You want to go back to the house?”
Haley shook her head and buried her face again.
Van looked around. The boys had really done a good job of clearing the place out. Only the boxes of supplies were left, stacked in the corner. Wine-themed decorations she’d ordered online. Dollars to donuts there would be a Christmas tree skirt in one of the boxes. “Hang on.”
She pushed to her feet. Her legs were already stiff from the cold and she hobbled over to the stack of boxes and rummaged through them until she found a bag that said TREE SKRT. She ripped the bag open and detoured to the thermostat to jack up the heat a couple of degrees.
Haley hadn’t moved, so Van folded the skirt in half and spread it out on the floor next to her. Haley lifted her butt enough to get onto the skirt.
Van sat down next to her. “This is kind of cozy, huh?”
“You’re weird.”
“I know. I can’t help it.”
“Do people like you?”
This was taking a turn she hadn’t expected. “I have a few friends.”
“I don’t.”
“I’m sure—” Van clamped down on the reassurance. How lame could she be? “That must suck.”
Haley darted her a look. “It does.”
“Are you sure you don’t have any?”
“Just the girls next door and they don’t count.”
“Why not? Don’t you like them?”
“I used to.”
“But not now?”
Haley shrugged. “They said we were losers. That we were too poor to get a Christmas tree.”
“A lot of people don’t have Christmas trees,” Van said. “I don’t usually get a tree.” She was too busy decorating other people’s houses to do her own. “Actually last year I did get a bunch of those white branches. They were left over from a client, so I took them home and put them in the umbrella stand by the front door of my apartment. It was sort of like a tree.”
“That’s pitiful.”
“Yeah.”
“Did you buy a can of Christmas tree smell to spray around?”
“No. Was that you being sarcastic?”
Haley gave her a look that said it was.
Van breathed in the pungent scent of evergreen. “Can’t really duplicate the smell of a real tree, can you?”
Haley shook her head. “You have two trees.”
“We do.”
“We used to always get a tree. But not this year. Momma said she’d see, but I knew that meant no.”
“Well, maybe she really meant that she’d see.”
“No she didn’t. All she ever does is work and we still don’t have any money. We never do anything fun. We don’t have nice clothes.” Haley hid her face in her hands. “I said I hated her.”
“Ah.”
“I’m such a bitch.”
Van blinked. How old was this kid?
“You’re not the first kid to say that. I think mothers get that you don’t mean it.”
“What if I don’t get to tell her I didn’t mean it? What if she dies? It’ll be my fault.”
Holy crap.
“Did you ever tell your mom you hated her?”
Van thought back. “Probably. I’m pretty sure I did.”
“Don’t you remember?”
Van shook her head. She remembered telling her dad that she hated him plenty of times when her mom was still alive. After her mom died, she lost her bravura and just tried to stay away from him. Until recently.
“And she still likes you?”
And what to say? She’s dead might push Haley over the brink. “Look, in the morning we’ll ask Mom Enthorpe.”
“She knows everything, doesn’t she?”
“Seems that way. I think we should go back to the house or we’re going to have frostbite on our butts.”
Haley got up. Van stuck out her hand for Haley to pull her up, which she did. Van turned down the heat and finally after they both stopped to look once more at the tree lights, she turned them off, too.
The moon had come out and cast the snow into a patchwork of white, grays and blues. The air was so cold that their feet crunched as they walked.
“The air tickles your nose when it’s this cold,” Haley said.
“It does,” said Van. “It really does.”
Joe awoke with a start; Van was gone. The sheet beside him wasn’t even warm, which meant she must have been gone for some time. He sat up and peered around the room. No Van. He pushed back the covers and went straight to the window.
Her car was still in the driveway. Thank God.
Then he heard footsteps in the hall. He deliberated about going out to meet her or jumping back in bed and pretending he wasn’t being such an idiot.
Then he heard whispers. He cracked the bedroom door open. Van and Haley were standing at the doorway of the girls’ room. Haley went inside and Van followed her.
Joe padded barefoot down the hall.
“You don’t have to be afraid, Haley.”
“I’m not.”
“I know. Just, sometimes when I’m afraid, I know I’m safe here. Good-night.”
“Night.”
Joe meant to creep away but he wasn’t fast enough. Van’s words had sucker punched him. He didn’t want her to ever be afraid again.
Van backed out of the room, shut the door and turned right into him.
“What—?”
Van put her fingers to her lips and brushed past him. He followed her to their bedroom and shut the door. “What was that all about?”
Van shivered uncontrollably, jumped into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. “I heard her get out of bed. I thought she was getting water so I went to help. But she didn’t stop at the kitchen. I followed her out to the gift shop.”
Joe pushed the pillows against the headboard and climbed in beside her. “Why?”
“Why did I follow her?”
“Why did she go there?”
“To look at the tree, I think. She had a fight with her mom about a Christmas tree, and she told her mom she hated her. Owen is giving her a hard time. She’s afraid her mom is going to die. She isn’t, is she?”
“No, at least I don’t think so. Dad is trying to find the grandmother since we don’t get a lot of information about Kathy’s condition from the hospital. What did you tell her?”
“Not much. I said that all kids told their mothers that and it doesn’t mean anything. And that your mom would explain everything in the morning.”
Joe laughed in spite of the gravity of the situation.
“Well I wasn’t going to say, ‘Everything will be all right,’ because it might not be. Then she’d never trust anyone again.”
Joe pulled her close and she leaned her head on his shoulder.
“There wasn’t much I could say. I didn’t want to tell her that my mom was dead. It might make her feel worse. And remembering how I felt about my dad just made me feel worse, so I didn’t say anything.”
“Did you mean it about her not having to be afraid here?”
“Of course. Would your family turn them away?”
He shook his head. “What about you?”
“Would I turn them away? It isn’t my house.”
“We’ll debate that later. But would you, if it was?”
She shook her head. “How could I? You didn’t turn me away.”
And he never would. No matter how infuriatingly skittish she was. But the question was, could he keep her?