Chapter 2-1
944 Words
Chapter 2
TARA’S EYE CRACKED OPEN and searched out the time on the LED clock by her bedside. 9:30.
Ohmygod. She rocketed out of bed and tripped down the hall, cursing the action figures and Legos in the floor. They were going to be so late to school!
Ginny looked up with wide blue eyes from her bean bag by the coffee table, her blocky stuffed bear, Lump tucked under her arm. Bugs Bunny sassed Elmer Fudd on the screen. Austin sketched at the kitchen table. He didn’t even glance her way as she came skidding into the room.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
“’Cause it’s Saturday?” Ginny suggested .
“Oh.” Tara scooped a hand through her hair. The last week had flown by, full of late nights knocking out several new pieces to take to the artisan market. Her body clock was all screwed up and she’d lost track of days. In the wake of the adrenaline burst that had propelled her out of bed, she felt the exhaustion that had been dogging her for days.
Neither of the kids was in need of medical attention and nothing was broken or otherwise destroyed, so they’d managed to quietly entertain themselves, while she slept in for the first time in...who knew how long.
“Y’all had breakfast?”
“Cereal,” Austin said.
Tara looked sharply in his direction.
“No sugar on Ginny’s,” he added, though he still didn’t look up from his drawing.
Okay then. She’d slept in for three hours and the world had not stopped. Surely that miracle would last long enough for her to caffeinate.
Bugs Bunny gave way to Wile E. Coyote by the time she came back into the living room with a cup of tea. The ancient sofa sank beneath her weight. Mug in hand, Tara looked around the living room. Toys littered the old shag carpet, but she’d managed a fresh coat of paint on the walls back in the summer. Austin’s artwork hung in an informal gallery on one of them, something he’d acted annoyed by but she knew he secretly loved. All the furniture was worn. She’d refinished the wood pieces in a distressed cottage style that suited life with kids. The bright pillows accenting the sofa and chairs perked up the space. It helped, but there was no masking the fact that the house was old and hadn’t been cared for as it should’ve in the years before she moved in.
Maybe after she finished shopping for the kids, she’d swing by the local thrift store and see if they had a decent couch that fit into her budget.
Ginny crawled up beside her and curled into Tara’s side, snuggling in like an overlarge cat. Tara stroked her sister’s silky hair and felt her heart roll over in her chest. She’d come a long, long way from the terrified and distrustful little girl who’d suddenly found herself living with an older sister she’d only met a couple of times. Austin was slower to warm up and he still spent more of his time lost in his own head, sullen and angry over their circumstances. But he argued less and was more inclined to help with Ginny than resent her, so that, too, was progress.
“So I thought we’d decorate for Christmas this weekend. What do y’all think about that?”
Austin jerked a shoulder. “Whatever.”
Ginny sat up. “Can we make popcorn garland?”
Tara pegged her with an amused look. “Do you actually want popcorn garland or do you just want popcorn?”
“Both.”
“Then I suppose we can do popcorn garland. What about you, Austin?”
“No amount of popcorn is going to cover up that ugly fake tree.”
Her little brother had a deep and abiding hatred of the fake Christmas tree they’d had the year before. Tara had found it in the attic and done what she could to nurse the Charlie Brown tree into something festive, but even her artistic skills had been challenged by that.
“You’re absolutely right. Which is why we are aren’t going to use the ugly fake tree.”
“So we’re not having a tree?” Ginny’s lip wobbled.
“We’re not having a fake tree,” Tara corrected. “This year we’re going to get a real one.”
Austin finally looked up at that, a fleeting expression of hope on his face before he shut down again. “We can’t afford a real tree. They’re a waste of money.”
Hearing what she knew were their father’s words falling out of his mouth, Tara felt a fresh wave of rage whip through her. He hadn’t done right by these kids. Not ever. When she was sure she could speak without swearing, she said, “Well, whether they’re a waste or not is a matter of opinion. But as it happens we’re doing okay this Christmas, and we’re going to have a real tree.”
“Won’t all the lots be picked over? It’s only two weeks to Christmas.”
“Probably. That’s why we’re going out to Applewhite Farms to cut a fresh one ourselves.” It was so much more expensive, but by damn, she was going to give them some good Christmas memories.
“Really?” Ginny’s eyes got even rounder. “I’ve heard stories about that place. Becca says they have hot chocolate and horses and lights and everything!”
“Well, I don’t know if they’ll have lights and stuff during the day, but I’m sure they’ll have something. And it’ll be fun to walk the fields and pick our very own tree. What do you say?”
“Yay!”
She patted Ginny on the rump. “Go get dressed. Both of you. If we get the tree this morning, we can spend the afternoon making more ornaments.”
Her sister bolted down the hall to her bedroom.
Tara looked back at her brother. “Austin? You up for the whole cutting a live tree experience?”
“That could be cool.”
An almost positive statement. Tara would take it.
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