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Chapter 7
Merry
Pain.Pain and deep satisfaction were the first two things to register as I awoke in my childhood bed the next morning. My bottom still burned from the stripes of the belt, and my muscles were cramped and sore from kneeling on the floor while they used me in whatever ways they pleased. But more than that, I felt lighter. Free and relaxed. Those were things I had not felt in years.
Pulling myself up on my elbow in bed, I rose far enough to peer out the window. Blake's truck was gone, and I knew they were already hard at work for the day. I had offered to help, begged and pleaded actually, but I had only been tasked with one thing. The most important thing of all. Taking care of Nan.
When I asked what all that entailed, these days, neither one had given me a straight answer. "Whatever she needs and whatever she asks," was all Slade had said. "Make sure she eats three meals, stays off her feet, takes her meds, and for God's sake, don't let her miss her soaps."
The digital clock on my nightstand read nine-thirty, and I gaped, grabbing my phone to check that the time was indeed correct. It had been years since I had slept past six am, though it was never for lack of trying. Regret and unhappiness had turned me into somewhat of an insomniac. It was ironic to me that returning to the scene of the crime was the one thing that had finally afforded me a full night's sleep.
I could have lounged in bed all day, reveling in the memories of the day before, but I had a strong suspicion that failing to meet Nan's every need and take care of her in the same patient way they had been, for God only knows how long, would result only in a repeat of yesterday. The thought had my ass clenching in pain, as I threw off the covers and leapt from the bed.
I needed a shower and clean clothes, and a million other things, I was sure, but those could all wait. Coffee first. If Nan was the most important part of my day, coffee would be a close second.
I pulled on an old worn robe that had surely seen better days and cinched it tight around my waist. I didn't bother changing from my thin, light pajamas, padding downstairs as quickly as I could. I didn't know how much help Nan actually needed, but I knew her well enough to know she wouldn't ask for any.
I went straight to the coffee pot, thrilled to see that the sweet dark nectar was hot and waiting. Another benefit to not being at home, alone. My eyes were barely open as I retrieved a cup from the mug stand and poured my cup, adding two lumps of sugar from a nearby jar. Wrapping both hands around the mug, I leaned against the counter, facing the window, and lifted the mug to my lips, breathing deeply as I inhaled the heady aroma.
"Good morning, sleepyhead." Nan's voice startled me, and I quickly turned, barely managing to keep my grip on the coffee cup. She sat at the breakfast nook, dressed like me, in thin pajamas, a worn pink robe, and fuzzy slippers. Her hands were wrapped around an identical mug, and I knew the only difference would be that hers was tea, instead of coffee. Peppermint, if I remembered correctly.
My return greeting was more of a grunt as I slid into the seat across from her, biting my lip to keep from wincing when my bottom made contact with the hard wood. Sitting would be a challenge for a while, but I knew from experience that the pain would keep me focused and mindful, two things I naturally was not.
Nan sat quietly, regarding me with knowing eyes, as I slowly sipped my coffee, relishing every sip as the magic nectar worked its way through my body, slowly waking me up. Finally, I smiled. "Good morning, Nan. Have you been up long? Do you need anything?"
"Hmph. The day I can't do for myself," she grunted. "Is the day you can put me in the ground."
With a smile, I recognized the same line she had thrown at Slade the day before. He and Blake had their hands full taking care of her, that was for sure, but I reckoned they, and their bossy butts, managed just fine.
"Okay, then." I chuckled, pressing my lips together. "Is there anything I can help you with today?"
"Christmas cookies." The answer was quick and decisive. But it was only Decemberthird.
"Christmas cookies? Isn't it a little early?"
"Nonsense, we have over forty people coming for Christmas, and that's not counting families. I reckon it's got to be nearing a hundred people by now. We have days' worth of baking to do. Weeks', even."
"Nan, a hundred people is a ton. Where are you going to put them all?"
Nan shook her head, frowning at me like she was sure I was daft. "Look around, missy. We are sitting on acres and acres of property. They will do what they always do and bring trailers. Few that don't have one are welcome to stay in the house. We got lots of sleeping bags and quite a few bedrooms. Taking people in is the whole reason I have this place, remember? Course, you would know all this, iff'n you had bothered to come around at all."
"Yes, Nan," I sighed, seeing that arguing about the party would get me nowhere. The food, though, was another story. I hoped. "How are you going to feed a hundred people, Nan? The party keeps getting bigger, and you are getting older. Don't you think we should look into having it catered, at least Christmas dinner?"
"Hush your mouth, child, and perish the thought. The day I can't feed my family—"
"Is the day we can put you in the ground, I know. I know. But, Nan, don't you think you're being a little unreasonable. You always taught us it was okay to ask for help."
"And I will have help, silly girl. A hundred people is two hundred hands, and every single one of them fuss over me just the same as you are doing right now."
I could only imagine. I had only been there for three Christmases, and my memory was fuzzy. The gatherings didn't mean as much to me as they did to her or Slade or Blake, because, when I had been there, it had been just us. She had stopped taking in kids, long before I came. She probably should have kept her doors closed and not taken me in, either. She would have been a lot better off.
The thought had no sooner processed through my brain waves, than my bottom twinged with a sharp pain, reminding me that those kind of thoughts never got me anywhere good. I winced sharply, and Nan peered at me through squinted eyes.
"Well, now, that's a sound I haven't heard in a while," she mused.
"What is?" I asked, feigning innocence.
"The sharp wince of someone who has recently taken a trip to the woodshed, so to speak."
