Page 109 of The Treasure House

But I couldn’t think of anywhere I’d rather be. I liked the starkness of the cold, and the drama of the cliffs and the bay in the winter. I loved the snowy forests and the festoons of icicles, like nature was throwing up its own tinsel for the holidays. I loved the absolute hush. There were no panicked shoppers rushing around, no traffic, let alone traffic jams, no sense of stress and busyness. It was like time stopped at the town limits.

It was the most perfect Christmas I’d ever had. The house was full and chaotic and happy. I gave the old kitchen range a workout as I cooked enormous quantities of food for them; we played the board games Flo and I had saved from the culch; and we listened to Flo’s cheesy Christmas music as we sat by the fire and fell into remembering old times.

“You should have seen this kid the first Christmas after she came to us,” Wayne told Jake on Christmas afternoon, when he’d finally returned to join us. Jake was pink from the cold and happily sitting on the floor by the fire with Hazel in his lap and Flo feeding her the dog treats she’d bought the puppy as a Christmas present. Jake was curious about my past, I could see.

Wayne wrapped his arm around me and squeezed. “She was so smitten with the tree, she’d sit in the dark for hours, just watching the lights blink.”

I shook my head, embarrassed. “You’re making it sound weird. I didn’t just sit in the dark; usually I had a lamp on and was reading a book.”

“I remember you used to ask before you opened the refrigerator.” Lance laughed. “Even after you’d been there for years. Like you were a perpetual house guest.”

It was true, I’d always felt like a visitor. They might have welcomed me in, but I never quite felt at home—I never allowed myself to. Because they weren’t my family; they were borrowed. And I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the rug to be pulled out from under me.

“She was just polite,” Suni scolded him.

I could see Jake’s gaze flicking between them all, absorbing everything.

“Mom was a foster kid,” Flo told him matter-of-factly. “It’s like being an orphan, only your parents aren’t dead.”

I’d told her the truth about my father—that I didn’t know who he was—and she thought my mother had abandoned me. Which she kind of had.

Jake’s gaze flew back to me, and I gave him a weak smile. My stomach was churning because now I was thinking of Tina. Of Christmases at the Overbecks’, when I’d scanned the presents Christmas morning, wondering if there was one there from my mom.

“We took her in when she was thirteen,” Wayne told him, “and she was so wonderful, we never wanted to let her go.” Wayne gave me another squeeze and then went off to the kitchen to find more wine.

“Suni and Wayne took in a few kids, not just me,” I told Jake. I felt painfully exposed. Mostly because I knew he was reading my every expression. And because I’d told him none of this.

I heard a gasping sound and saw Suni had started to cry.

“Oh, Mom,” Alison said, scooting over and giving her mom a hug.

“Sorry, I just…” Suni shrugged helplessly as the tears fell in earnest. “I just got to thinking about Bethany.”

I winced. “I’m sorry, Suni, I didn’t think.”

“Bethany was another one of the foster kids,” Lance told Jake. “It’s our first Christmas since she died.”

“Oh hell, I’m sorry,” Jake blurted. “That must be awful.” I noticed he held Hazel a little closer.

“It is,” Suni sniffed. I fetched her some tissues, and she gave my hand a pat. “But much less awful because we’re here with our other lovely kids for Christmas.”

I hugged her fiercely. I still hadn’t really dealt with Bethany’s death. I’d pushed it down deep. Just like I did with Tina. As I comforted Suni, I acknowledged that I had a lot more junk to sort through than I’d realized.

“You know what would help this situation?” Flo interrupted. “A game of charades.”

“I don’t think now’s the time,” I said quickly.

“Now is exactly the time,” Flo insisted. “What else are you going to do, sit around and cry?”

“The kid has a point,” Lance said.

Suni gave a breathless hiccup. “Charades, huh?”

And it turned out charades was exactly what we needed. As the snow flew outside, and Wayne came back with a towering stack of leftover turkey sandwiches and another bottle of wine, we took turns standing in front of the tree, madly trying to think of ways to act out Infinity War or “My Funny Valentine” or The Cat in the Hat.

Jake and I were on the same team, and I sat on the floor between his legs, my back against his chest, his arms around me. Hazel had migrated to Flo’s lap, her leash still looped around an armchair because the cats kept wandering in and out. The fire was warm, everyone was laughing, and I was almost perfectly happy.

Which was why I had no defenses up when the knock came at the front door. I assumed it must be Alan and Roger come to join the festivities. Sometimes they popped in when they saw the lights on and I knew they were driving back from their day at Roger’s mother’s in Bangor.