The Apocalypse (21 page)

In the past few days, Hannah had been briefed on the happenings of a typical Christmas at her house. Her mom's younger brother, Kevin, would drive to Vandalia from Sandusky, Ohio, which was a few hours away, and he'd bring their widowed mother, Shirley, who had moved to Sandusky to help Kevin's wife, Charlotte, take care of their children. Then, since they'd all been family friends since Patricia and Diane's elementary school years, Diane's parents would drive back from Indiana, where they'd retired to after their son had moved to Texas.

The story of the Allen family had particularly interested Hannah. Diane's older brother was a professor at Baylor University, and everyone knew that he'd moved away to escape from his overbearing parents, even if Jonah and Elisabeth Allen denied it passionately. Instead, they'd praised the 'good child' for being 'so successful in his endeavors' when he'd gotten the job years ago, and two months later, they'd relocated to Indiana, partially to escape from their 'wild child.' When Diane had gotten pregnant with Jake, her parents had been furious because she and Jake's dad refused to marry; in fact, they nearly disowned her, but plenty of reasoning from Patricia's parents had calmed them. Slightly. Still, the uptight couple brought gloom to even the happiest holiday.

"Isaac, be nice," Patricia scolded gently as she continued hanging stockings by the fireplace. "They're nice kids."

Isaac scoffed. "If 'nice' is the nicest description you can come up with, you know you're lying. They're
demonic
." He picked up a magazine from the coffee table and started flipping through the pages, even though it didn't seem like he was focusing on it at all. Suddenly, Isaac groaned. "Aw man, Mom. I don't have to share my bed with Kyle again this year, do I? He kicks!"

Laughing softly, Patricia smiled. "Kyle or Kaleb. You pick."

Isaac groaned again, and Hannah laughed. "Isn't Kaleb, like, two?" she asked, plopping onto the opposite side of the couch that Isaac occupied. Her uncle Kevin had two sons and a daughter; that much Hannah remembered, but the details crammed together in her mind.

"Yes," Isaac scowled. He sighed deeply and tossed the magazine back onto the coffee table. "I'll take Kyle. Maybe I can perfect my amputation skills this Christmas. I would have last year if he hadn't kicked the knife out of my hands."

Hannah grinned. "You're such a liar."

"So you think."

"Isaac, don't forget to clean your room up." Patricia stepped back and admired the neat row of stockings. Then she turned and started for the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "And, Hannah, make sure you take your shoes to your bedroom."

Hannah glanced toward the door, where two pairs of her shoes were messily scattered. She made a face, thinking it was a whole lot easier to leave her shoes where she'd need them, but she made a mental note to do as she was told. At least she didn't have an entire room to clean like Isaac did.

"I say you leave your shoes there," Isaac declared, jumping up from the couch and making a move for the Christmas tree. He reached around sneakily, clearly trying to feel up his presents. "Maybe one of Jake's grandparents will trip over them. If they spent Christmas at the hospital, my days would be merry and bright."

Laughing, Hannah rolled her eyes and watched Isaac dig around in the presents by the tree. In less than twelve hours, her house would be crammed with new strangers, and Hannah was hopeful that being around people of her past would help her remember that past. Though she wasn't too sure she wanted to reconnect with her memories, Hannah was convinced that Jake was right: it was for the best. So she was hopeful, if not also anxious, about the holidays.

"What happened to the Christmas cookies?" Patricia's voice cried from the kitchen suddenly. "There're almost all gone!"

Hannah jerked her head to Isaac, ready to shoot him an accusing glance, but when she looked him, he was already giving her one. She almost laughed as she called back, "I didn't eat them, if that's what you're asking!"

Mockingly, Isaac whispered, "You're such a liar."

"I can't even deny that one," Hannah giggled as annoyed footsteps stomped toward the living room, no doubt belonging to Patricia. Hannah jumped up and moved toward her shoes, picking them up as quickly as she could, while Isaac jumped away from the Christmas tree and made a dash for the staircase. By the time that Patricia had made it to the living room, both children had escaped upstairs, safe from her yells about the missing cookies.

. . .

"Can you pass the deviled eggs?"

"Eggs make me gag." Kristin Ayers shook her blonde head stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest. "If I smell an egg, I puke all over the place."

Isaac scowled, resisting the urge to jerk the pigtails off his five-year-old cousin's head. "They're right in front of you," he said through gritted teeth. "If you can't smell them when they're that close to you, you won't smell them if you hand them to me."

She gasped suddenly, clapped her hand over her mouth, and disappeared from the table, not missed by the adults who were absorbed in their talking. Hannah came close to smiling as she reached across the chair Kristin had been sitting in, plucked the deviled egg dish from the table, and passed it to a very grumpy Isaac. Both of them had unwillingly woken up early to greet their relatives, and the day had been torture for Isaac, while Hannah had found amusement in his annoyance with their cousins, though she'd had her own brushes with annoyances with other relatives, particularly Jake's.

"I don't understand why it's so hard for that boy to be on time," Jonah Allen complained, sipping from his hot tea. He was in pretty good shape for an old man, and his white hair showed more age than his body did. "He was specifically told that dinner would be served at six-thirty, and it's nearly seven. Diane, he's exactly like you were at his age. I'm glad you know how it feels now."

His wife, Elizabeth, nodded curtly, her short, tight perm not moving at all, thanks to all the hairspray that had gone into the style. "It makes me thankful for karma. You have no idea how many nights I worried where you were."

"I don't have any problems with Jake," Diane answered, her eyes narrowed. Hannah sent her a sympathetic smile, although she didn't think Diane saw it. "He's always on time. Whatever made him late must have been important."

"
Just
like you," Elizabeth sniffed. "Never calling to say when he'll be late."

"Would you care for some more tea?" Patricia interrupted politely, holding up a tea kettle helpfully. Hannah was glad her mother intervened, since hearing negative comments about Jake—especially from his own grandparents—made her want to scream. Since when were grandparents not sweet and loving?

Coughing hard, Hannah's grandmother eclipsed any response from Jake's grandparents. "I'll take some of that, Pat," Shirley said, rubbing at her chest. "All of this cold weather has gone straight to my fragile lungs."

"You'll be tipping the bottle later, won't you, Grandma?" Isaac asked, grinning. "Did you bring enough brandy for me to get drunk too?"

Shirley scowled and pulled her cup away so that Patricia couldn't refill her tea after all. "I'll have you know that my brandy is for medicinal purposes only, and when I'm coughing like I am, I need my brandy to soothe my—"

Isaac, seven year old Kyle, and Diane cut off Shirley's lecture with loud fake coughing. Hannah, who had heard about her grandmother's close relationship with peach brandy, cracked up, just as Jake walked in the door. Apparently, the coughing was an inside joke, since Jake immediately started coughing along with the others, which only made Hannah laugh
harder
.

"I think I've caught your cough," Jake declared, taking his seat beside Isaac. Hannah had to admire him, with his windblown brown hair and slightly reddened cheeks, which were probably due to the cold. He looked great. "Mind if I borrow a swig or two of your home remedy?"

Shirley made a face. "You can all stop coughing now!" She reached beside her chair and produced a very large purse; it could only be described as the size of a bag one might take to the beach—only bigger. Without embarrassment, Shirley reached in and pulled out a bottle of peach brandy. "You'll be glad that I brought this when you're all sleeping peacefully tonight. If I didn't have this to drink, I'd cough all night long."

"How am I going to sleep peacefully with Kyle kicking me all night?" Isaac asked moodily, watching his grandma pour the brandy into a glass. Then he grinned. "Wait, I know! Pour me some of that brandy, and I'll sleep fine."

Laughter sounded around the table, and Jake added, "Don't leave me out on this, Shirley. I'm telling you, I'm sick." He coughed loudly. "And I think it'd be great to tell all my friends that I became an alcoholic over Christmas break."

"I am not an alcoholic!" Shirley exclaimed, even as she took a drink of the strong liquid. "My brandy is for
medicinal purposes
only
! That's all!"

"Sure it is," Jake smirked, clearly amused.

"Do not backtalk!" Jonah snapped suddenly, as if just realizing that his grandson was present. He frowned and narrowed his eyes at Jake. "Respect your elders."

"Why are you so late?" Elizabeth asked, frowning heavily. "We came to visit you, and you don't even have the decency to be on time for Christmas dinner?"

"Technically, it's Christmas
Eve
dinner," Kyle spoke up, but his parents quickly shushed him. Hannah wanted to giggle, but she covered it by grabbing another roll.

Jake, who had begun digging into the various bowls on the table, shrugged. "I had some last minute things to take care of," he answered dismissively, not even looking at either of his grandparents. Instead, he looked at Isaac, apparently about to make a point. "Where's your dad?"

"Working," Isaac replied. "He's—"

"I am not done talking to you." Jonah put his fork down furiously, staring at Jake coldly. "Where have you—"

"Mom's not pissed," Jake interrupted easily. "What right do you have to be?"

The look of fury crossed Jonah's face, and it made Hannah cringe. It hadn't taken her long at all to see why Isaac wanted Jake's grandparents to trip over her shoes, but she thought their behavior was entirely uncalled for, especially on Christmas Eve. Why in the world would his grandparents be invited over for Christmas if they all disliked each other so much? Jonah and Elizabeth should have just flown to Texas in Hannah's opinion; it would have kept them from dampening her holiday spirit.

Instead of yelling, which Hannah could tell that he was capable of doing, Jonah set his mouth in a firm line. "I apologize for my grandson," he said, much to the incredulity of Hannah. If the man had had an oxygen tank, she would have been squeezing the tubing right about then.

"Who wants dessert?" Patricia asked brightly.

The chatter at the table continued, although Hannah remained silent. Clearly, the hatefulness from the Allen family was something everyone was used to. No one had batted an eyelash, and everyone had already moved on to cheerier conversation. It made absolutely no sense to Hannah.

"How's that roll going for you?"

Jumping, Hannah glanced across the table and saw that Jake was smirking at her. Next to him, Isaac was giving Hannah a funny look, and when she glanced at the dinner roll in her hand, she understood why. The roll had been mutilated by her hand; somehow, Hannah had unknowingly twisted and scrunched it into an unrecognizable ball of bread. Realizing this, her cheeks heated up in embarrassment.