Chapter 25
~ Braden ~
We arrange Grandpa at the head of the table, sitting in his wheelchair with Erica at his side. It turns out she went home with Jason, the sleigh driver. After Lindsay texted her, she came rushing to the house, but Grandpa and I were already gone. She and Jason rode a horse toward town to look for Grandpa, and she arrived at the hospital in time to help him get into the wheelchair to come home.
As for Susanna, she apparently explained to the sheriff she was in the bathroom when the alarm was raised and couldn’t come out into the hallway. I can’t remember if the bathroom door was closed or not, but wherever she was hiding, it’s probably none of my business.
At least I have my solid alibi with my Sammie, and I’m going to do everything I can to never let her go. Now that the suspicion is gone and all of us in the house have been cleared, the festive atmosphere tries to revive, although everyone has their own theories—the most popular one being that my note was lost in the shuffle and Erica accidentally overdosed him when she and Jason returned the horses sometime in the wee hours of the night.
I still don’t get why she’s sitting next to Grandpa, though. Meanwhile, I help Jolene and my sisters, yes, they are no longer stepsisters, bring the feast they prepared to the table.
It’s unbelievable. They made all of Grandpa’s favorites and the recipes my mother invented. Only yesterday, before I knew the true meaning of Christmas, I would have resented Jolene, Susanna, Macy, and Riley for copying Mom’s recipes, but now, I’m glad they kept them alive.
“Thank you for cooking.” I hug Jolene for the first time willingly. “These are all special dishes.”
“Yes, they are. Thanks to your grandmother, Sally, who passed them on to us.” She gives me a kiss on my cheek. “I even made Terri-Yaki Chicken for her. It was her favorite one of the bunch.”
Terri was my mother’s name.
“I’m sure it’s just as good as hers. Thank you, Jolene. That’s your Christmas gift to me.”
“Since we didn’t get to open the gifts under the tree this morning, we’re going to do it after dinner.” Jolene pinches my arm. “Your father and I didn’t forget you this year, along with your ‘daughter.’”
She makes air quotes on the word daughter.
“I should be so lucky to have a daughter someday as wonderful as Sammie.”
“Maybe you will.” She winks and goes to the oven with a pair of hot mitts. “Taking out the Braden-wick Stew.”
The table is set, and we’re all gathered around. I sit next to my Sammie and hold her hand while Grandpa says grace.
“Dear God, you have truly given us all the best Christmas ever. I thought I was too old to learn about love. I turned it into a contest and game, thinking I could buy happiness and love with a reward. Instead, I almost ruined Christmas for this precious family. Thank you for showing me that Christmas is not about bragging or making people proud or competing on who can do more good works, but in love and family, accepting all of us, differences and all, and loving each other enough not to forcibly make each other happy, but to be happy in the faith and hope of your Son’s birth. Bless us, dear Lord, this Christmas. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
“Amen,” we repeat after him.
And then we dig into my family’s feast of Jon-balaya, Nash Browns, Braden-wick Stew, Terri-Yaki Chicken, Colleen Greens, and Wes-phalia Ham and Noodles.
Erica helps Grandpa eat through his feeding tube, and I feel bad he’s missing the good food. He gives me a thumbs-up, though, and sniffs to show me he’s enjoying the aroma.
I can barely eat wondering about the mystery. Erica’s presence grates on me. Shouldn’t she be fired for negligence at the very least? If she made a mistake, then she’s dangerous. But it’s Christmas, and maybe Grandpa forgave her.
He’s the first to finish “eating.” He leans back in the wheelchair and rests while we eat. Conversation is stilted, but as normal as can be, given what we went through. Lindsay still shoots snide glares at Sammie, but Nash nudges her to behave.
I can’t wait any longer, so I raise the question to Grandpa. “What did you mean when you said Sammie clued you in? What did she tell you?”
“Couldn’t wait for her to tell you in private, could you?” Grandpa pressed his lips together and looks around the table. “Sammie left me a message using Morse Code. I’m disappointed no one deciphered the popcorn and cranberry garland. Especially you, Braden. You claim to know Morse Code due to your supposed time in the military special forces.”
“I got sidetracked.” My lame excuse. “What was the message?”
“She told me her real name. She also asked me to let you know that we are proud of you, Braden, no matter what dodgy things you’ve done. You thought we didn’t know, but these days, it’s easy to look things up.”
My fork drops, and I look around the table, my gaze stopping at my father.
“Yes, son. I knew about your past. It’s true you had me fooled with Sammie. I wanted so much to believe you’d become a responsible father, but when your grandfather showed me the Morse Code, I actually grieved that the lie wasn’t true.”
“I’m sorry. I did do good in catching those miscreants.” I’m referring to the blackmailers and child traffickers who were able to escape the legal system. The mob has its own justice system that is far harder to escape. “I never killed anyone, just to set the record straight. I only fingered them.”
“Vigilante style. Promise me you’ll use your skills legitimately,” Dad says.
