Somewhere Else

Chapter 9: Winter

Christmas would be lonely without the girl running around the place. Because of the divorce, she went with her dad on Christmas and stayed for the following week. Jane decided they’d open presents Christmas Even to ensure Winter didn’t have to wait so long for her much anticipated presents. Santa was still something magical that she didn’t want to have ruined, so Winter would have to wait until she got back from James’ to open her present from Santa.

James was especially uncooperative in her quest to keep Christmas such a mysterious time of year. Because of this, she divided everything Winter wanted this year into two separate lists. This way he wouldn’t get the “better”, more expensive version of what she was buying for her daughter. After all, it was the thought, not the price, which made the present worthwhile. The only other person who ever got to see that list was Brecker and that was only because without it he might go over the top with his choice of what was best for the girl. Last year Winter had asked for a kitten, meaning a stuffed one she’d seen in the store. Brecker came home with a real kitten which was named Oreo and had quite the personality. She was hoping to prevent future mistakes like that one.

Her little suitcase was packed full of clothes. No matter how much she pleaded with her mother, Jane refused to allow her to take any of her new Christmas clothes. Brecker let her wear the sweater he got her, the purple one with snowflakes on it, because he didn’t see the big deal. He knew she loved it and would be sure to bring it back. Besides, he didn’t want her to feel bad. She didn’t spent much time with her dad and he didn’t want her thinking they were simply shipping her off.

He’d bought her new Christmas books as well. What kind of author didn’t want to promote literacy? They were curled up in bed together, reading one of those new books when Jane came in and announced it was time for bed. James had finally agreed to taking Winter Christmas morning so they could at least have Christmas Eve together. He was curious what part of her anatomy she sold for such a deal.

“But mom!” they cried in unison, Brecker obviously mocking.

“That’s not your mom Brecker. That’s my mom.”

“She’s a lot like my mom. She makes me eat all my vegetables and doesn’t let me stay up late during the week.”

“She doesn’t let me stay up late either. You’re the only one that does that.”

Jane arched a brow but said nothing.

Brecker stared back at her and offered a sheepish smile as he pet Winter’s hair. “Aren’t you cute?”

He kissed her good-night and packed her books in hope that she’d glance at them during her little vacation. If he really lucked out, someone might actually read them to her before she fell asleep, like she liked. Then he headed off for bed himself. Stripped to pajama pants, he laid awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling. When the house was so still and quiet, he could hear absolutely everything, including the sobbing he heard now, long after everyone had gone to bed. He stepped out of his room and stood at Jane’s door, immediately locating the source of the sound.

As silently as he could, he entered her room and closed the door behind him. He pulled back the covers of her bed and slid in beside her. This was not atypical. She moved right to him and he could feel the cool wet tears against his bare chest. Wrapping his arms around her, he stroked through her hair and kissed the top of her head, trying to soothe her enough to sleep. Eventually she did and he did as well, in the very same position he’d taken to comfort her.

That night, even though he held her and was quite comfortable and came to terms with why she had to leave, his nightmare returned to him. This was the worst of those he’d seen before. This time he could actually see the match strike in the house, saw it light up on the second floor. An instant after that he saw the house engulfed in the flames, watched as they licked high and low alike. That same chime-like laughter filled the whole place and then it was quiet. The house began to crumble. Everything was too quiet.

The very last image he received was the most terrifying he’d ever seen. That image would haunt him for the rest of his life. He woke immediately, bolted up and touched his face cautiously as he stood on shaky legs. Bright green eyes full of hope and despair and pain, so much pain. They were recognizable but the rest of her face was not. Like green marbles set in a tray of melted wax, flesh sloughing and pooling around them. The longer he looked, the harder the flesh became, tortured and twisted, charred and distorted.

He showered to cleanse himself of the image, of the thought. He couldn’t go back to sleep. In fact, he may never sleep again.

Since he was already up, he made breakfast for them all. His specialty was French Toast. Not because it was easy, but because he usually made his own bread for it. Bacon, fresh fruit, and whipped cream were all offered on the side. He served both milk and orange juice and expected both to be drunk during the course of the meal. Then he woke his girls up early so that they’d actually have time to eat before dashing off.

Not surprisingly he was decked out in green and red, borrowing the Santa hat from the shopping cart. More than ready to shake the heebie jeebies, he took comfort in the feeling of the holiday and basked in his family being so close to him that morning. He sent them off with a kiss and gathered the presents he had to deliver. Jane worked today, making extra money for working the holiday, and that meant he had the day to spend with Lane. Later on in the evening he’d stop by to visit Oskar and wish him a Merry Christmas and then he’d be back to spend the night with Jane. He had a few special presents he wanted to give her, out of sight of Winter.