When Snow Falls

“Doesn’t he usually go along and help if he’s on break?”

Riley, a contractor, was already teaching Jacob how to build and fix houses. As Jacob grew older, the two acted more like good buddies than father and son.

“I told him he could spend the day with Grandma and Grandpa tomorrow.”

“They getting ready for Christmas?”

Riley grinned. “He has cooking, decorating and going shopping to look forward to.”

Joe could tell Riley was glad to be off the hook. “How does Jacob feel about that?”

“He wanted to come with me, but I told him it would make Grandma happy to have him stay. The bells and whistles of the holidays are very important to my mom.” His tone suggested he didn’t quite understand, which made Joe smile. He didn’t see the point in some of the tacky decorations he saw, either. Putting up a tree just meant it had to be taken down. But he knew that was being too practical and was willing to do whatever it took to keep his girls happy.

The light had turned green twice already, but there wasn’t anyone behind them so they didn’t feel any pressure to drive on.

“How’s Gail?” Riley asked.

“Happy. Busy doing Simon’s PR and managing the other publicists at her firm. They have a star-studded list now.”

“Simon’s got another new movie coming out, I hear.”

Joe checked his rearview mirror again. Still clear. “Another blockbuster. This June.”

“I’ve been meaning to call Gail. I want to tell her I got a Christmas card from Phoenix.”

Leaning forward, Joe turned off his stereo. “Does she write you often?”

“She sends letters to Jacob all the time but I don’t pass them on. There’s no way I want to nurture that relationship. I rarely hear from her myelf, though.”

“Why do you think she sent the card?”

Suddenly pensive, he frowned and tapped his steering wheel. “She gets out this summer.”

Another car came motoring up from behind, forcing them to move on.

“Good luck with that,” Joe called.

“Thanks. I might need it,” Riley said with a wave.

* * *

A noise alerted Cheyenne to the fact that she was no longer alone. Presley came stumbling into the kitchen, squinted at the clock, then groaned. She acted as if it was far too early to face the day, but it was eleven-thirty. “Where are you going?” she mumbled through a yawn.

Cheyenne had been up, doing some cleaning, since six. “A friend wants my help picking out a Christmas tree,” she said as she rinsed her coffee cup.

Her sister started for the fridge, then stopped and winced as if that much movement hurt her aching head. “What friend?”

“Does it matter?” Cheyenne took two ibuprofen tablets from the cupboard and handed them over.

Presley wrinkled her nose. “This the best you can do?”

She wasn’t getting anything stronger. Not from Cheyenne. “That’s it.”

Obviously exasperated, her sister popped them in her mouth, pulled the orange juice from the fridge and drank out of the jug.

Cheyenne scowled at her. “Seriously? You can’t get a cup?”

“Too late now,” she said as she put the juice back. “And do you have to talk so loud? What’s wrong with you today?”

The keys to the Olds were lying next to her purse. Cheyenne grabbed both. “Nothing.”

“Something has you bugged. You’re in a shitty mood.”

Because Cheyenne had been up most of the night, trying to talk herself into canceling. A loyal best friend would’ve refused to go anywhere with Joe. But she kept telling herself that nothing was going to happen. She’d pay off her poker debt while Eve was gone, so Eve would never even know about it, and that would be the end of it. What was so bad about buying and decorating a tree with a friend’s big brother?

“I’m in a hurry,” she said. Joe had called to say he’d pick her up at noon, but she’d insisted on dropping her car just outside of town. From there, they’d go to Jackson. Most of her friends were away. They’d had to be up long before dawn to get to the airport by eight. But still… No way did she want anyone she knew to see them together.

“What’s the rush?” Presley rubbed her temples. “Christmas is two weeks away.”

Cheyenne didn’t answer. She was too busy pulling on her coat and scarf.

“And I thought all your friends went to the Caribbean,” Presley added, slouching against the counter.

“Not all of them,” Cheyenne said.

“Who’s left?”

Anxious to get out of the house, Cheyenne didn’t even glance at her. “Riley’s still here.”

“You’re getting a tree with Riley? That’s what has you so worked up?”

“Nothing has me worked up.” Realizing that she’d forgotten to note the amount of morphine she’d given their mother in the log, she searched for a pen and wrote down the information. “How was your date last night?”

Presley scowled. “I’ve had better.”

“What movie did you see?”

“We skipped the movie.”

“So what did you do?”

“He took me back to his place.”

Tossing the pen aside, Cheyenne whirled to face her. “That’s it? You had sex?”

She shrugged. “He wasn’t a total cheapskate.”

“Meaning he provided the drugs and alcohol.”