Martha and Gabriel looked down as if they wanted to refute his assertion.
“Let’s wait a few more minutes,” Mr. Northcotte said, looking at his phone again. “Then we will eat.”
I wasn’t surprised when Amelia’s missing mother didn’t show up because I understood the look on these people’s faces. This happy family had a monster preying on one of them.
Martha said a little prayer and we started eating. The mood lightened a little with Amelia telling everyone about all the gifts she’d gotten this year and wanted to know if she were extra good, would she get more next time. The simplicity of a child’s thinking had always connected with me, and I supposed it was because I’d been emotionally stunted by my own mother. MaybeI just wished things were simpler. Then again, my childhood had been anything but uncomplicated.
We enjoyed baked ham, mashed potatoes, glazed carrots, and warm, buttered rolls. Gabriel passed me a smile as he bit into the roll, and I wondered if I’d changed him in some small way. He’d certainly left a mark on me. Maybe he didn’t think he needed to be super skinny for someone to love him anymore. Everything was delicious and it took me a while to find the courage to compliment Martha on her excellent Christmas dinner. The brief moment of joviality died as we finished our meals.
“Gama, can I be excused to color my fairies?” Amelia asked.
“Sure, dear,” Martha said tightly. When she was out of earshot, she said to me, “Our daughter, Amelia’s mother is…irresponsible.”
Gabriel snorted. “That’s putting it lightly.”
Mr. Northcotte didn’t like that and passed him a dark look.
He set his fork down. “Are we going to pretend she was ever going to show up today? You never should have told Amelia she was coming. Now she will be let down.Again.”
“Please,” Martha interjected. “Not now.”
I felt like an interloper. I wanted to leave the table but was afraid any little move would draw attention to myself.
“Sorry, Jake. My sister is an addict that loves her drug of choice more than her family,” he bit out, glaring at his father.
“That’s enough!” Mr. Northcotte growled. “We’re not doing this on Christmas in front of guests.”
Everyone was quiet and still for a long moment, and I could feel my heartbeat thrumming through me.
“You should have never told Amelia,” Gabriel said softly and buried his face in his hands.
“Jake, dear, would you mind giving me a hand with the pies?” Martha asked as she rose to her feet.
“Sure,” I said and followed her into the kitchen.
I could hear Gabriel arguing with his father in the dining room, the hushed, sharp words hurting my heart. It was always those around the monster’s prey that got hurt the worst, wasn’t it? Martha sliced up a cranberry pie and I helped her load the dessert plates. When we returned to the dining table, Gabriel and Mr. Northcotte looked destroyed. Everyone just stared at their slice of pie, the sound of the clock ticking grading.
“I don’t like this, Gabe. I’m worried. Something is nipping at me. She’s not answering any of my texts or calls. I just need to know she is okay. I can’t put my finger on it, but…”
Gabriel blew out a long rush of breath and I knew with a single look he’d given up on his sister a long time ago. “Okay, Dad. Let’s go find her. Just give me a moment.”
“I’m going to put dinner away,” Martha said numbly as they got up. “Then I’ll make some calls and see if anyone has heard from her.”
Gabriel returned to me and kissed my forehead. “I’m really sorry about this. I was hoping this year would be different… Hang out here and keep Mom and Amelia company for me. Will you do that?”
“Okay.”
He kissed me several times, each a little deeper as if he were the one that needed support. When they were gone, I sat down at the coffee table where Amelia was staring at her crayons. Martha was on the phone, and I bit my lip in indecision. I’d always hated people trying to talk to me when I was feeling sad.
“Your mom does this a lot, huh?” I asked, unable to help myself.
She nodded weakly.
“My mom used to disappear all the time, too.”
Big gray eyes turned to me. “Really?”
“Yeah. Sometimes she’d be gone so long, she’d forget about me. But… even when she was home, it felt like she’d forgotten about me anyway.”
