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CHAPTER TEN
Hannah huffed a bored sigh as she flipped through the picked-over stock of earrings on the spinner. “What did you get her?”
Kelsey slid a cute carved-wood bangle on her wrist and held her arm up to test its look. “A cashmere sweater that matches her eyes.” Lots of people had complimented Kelsey’s blue eyes in her lifetime, and they were like their father’s, which was cool. But she’d always coveted their mother’s green eyes—clear and pale, like gemstones. Specifically like Kelsey’s birthstone, the peridot. Duncan was the only of the kids who had them, and he didn’t properly appreciate them.
“Lame,” Hannah pronounced and moved on to a basket of stretchy bracelets with plastic beads.
“Good thing you’re not giving it to her, then. You know what’s really lame? Looking for Christmas presents on Christmas Eve afternoon.That’slame.”
“Fuck off. I was in jail all month.”
Jail. Right. Hannah would never dare call being grounded ‘jail’ around their dad; he’d set her straight right quick.
She declined to point that out. It was Christmas, and Kelsey, at least, was determined to stay in the Christmas spirit. The clinic had closed at noon, and she’d agreed to take her annoying baby sister, who had not bought gift one yet, shopping on what was, in Kelsey’s estimation, the worst day of the year to shop.
Everybody from shoppers to clerks was cranky and rushed. The stock was picked over everywhere. Even the Christmas decorations looked rumpled and faded, like woo-hoo girls after last call. No, a shopping mall on Christmas Eve was not the best place to nurture one’s holiday spirit.
But her mother had asked if she’d take Hannah shopping, and she knew Mom was busy with the preparations for the club Christmas Eve blowout, so here she was, at a mall during the final few shopping hours before Christmas.
“How about this?” She held up a small box with a sterling silver bracelet. “You can add charms to it—instant gift ideas for the future.”
Hannah looked over and made a face. “How much?”
Kelsey flipped the box over. “Thirty.” Pointing to the sign at the top of the rack, she added, “But half off, so fifteen.” Deep discounts were the one saving grace of this shopping day.
“Too much.”
Fifteen dollars was too much to spend on their mother’s Christmas gift? “How much do you have for gifts?”
“Like fifty bucks? Ish?”
Fifty dollars for gifts for their mom, dad, brother, Grammo, Grampa D, and the kids’ Santa grab thing. And for Kelsey, not that she cared. But Grammo had given every kid under age eighteen a hundred dollars on Thanksgiving specifically for Christmas gift-giving.
Andish, no doubt, meant less than fifty dollars. “How ish? What did you spend fifty bucks on while you were grounded all month?”
Hannah shrugged. “Just stuff. I don’t know.” She looked around the Dillard’s costume jewelry area. “Can I just go in with you on the sweater?”
“The sweater you just called lame?”
“God. I’msorry. It’s not lame, okay? It’sawesome. Best sweater ever. Now can I go in with you?”
Obviously, and as per usual,go in withmeantput my name on the tag, notthrow in some money. Kelsey was very tired of Hannah being a jerk and skating by on other people’s kindness.
Kelsey actually hated to say no, even when she really wanted to. She hated conflict just in general. It always gave her a sick, sort of empty feeling in her belly. But right now, she was irritated enough that the word came out easily. “Nope.”
“Dad’ll be pissed if I don’t have a present for Mom. Mom’ll be pissed if I don’t have presents for everybody. C’mon, Kelse. You’re rich. Help me out.”
“I’m not rich.” She did okay, but she’d only been out of school a few years, so she was still pretty much on the low end of the pay range for veterinarians. It helped that Cedar Ridge was a nice clinic with a fairly affluent clientele, overall, and it helped that she was single and had only herself and her dog to see to. She was doing fine, but not rich. Someday she’d have her own clinic, and then … maybe.
“Whatever. Please?”
Kelsey thought about it for a minute, that uncomfortable feeling in her belly settling in to stay a while. She checked her watch and figured she could spend two, maybe three hours before she had to dump Hannah back at the house and go back to her apartment to get ready for the Bulls’ clubhouse party. Two or three hours should be enough time to get this done, even under Hannah’s ridiculous conditions.
“Here’s how I’ll help: you can skip a present for me. That leaves Mom, Dad, Dunc, Grammo, Grampa D, and the Santa grab. Six gifts. Fifty bucks cut six ways is about eight bucks,ish. I’ll help you find fun presents for everybody for eight bucks a pop and cover any difference when tax is added in.” When Hannah’s face took on a shape that was as close to guilt as the girl ever got, Kelsey sighed. “How much do you actually have?”
Reaching into the pocket of her coat—one of their dad’s old Sinclair uniform coats, which basically drowned her—Hannah pulled out the battered billfold that had been their dad’s until he’d gotten a new one the Christmas before last. She flipped it open and peered into the bill sleeve. “Forty-one … wait.” She dug her fingers into the coin pocket and counted her change. “Forty-two twelve.”
Of course. “Okay. I’ll still cover the difference. Eight dollar limit per present.”
