“That’s all you packed?” Tim asks, taking the small suitcase from me. “I purposely didn’t bring the brats so we’d have more room for stuff.”

“Oh, there’s more stuff,” I say, opening my closet. “Put the suitcase down and hold out your arms.”

Tim does as I say and I load him up with presents. For the first time in weeks I begin to actually see my clothes and shoes properly. “Okay. You start down to the car. I’m going to enlist some more help. Ushering him out of my room, I follow him out to the living room to see who is available.

Smith and Ireeni seem to have a poker game going on and quite the pool of cash sits between them. Bettina and Natalia are perched nearby, watching the fun as Smith and Reeni fire hilariously slanderous remarks back and forth, each trying to throw the other off their game.

“Escapee from the harems of hell.”

“You... product of a semen smear on a stolen pair of panties.”

Laughing, Smith pushes more cash into the pot. “You’ll regret that one, fish-lips.”

“I don’t think I will, lady-locks. Just how do you get your hair so shiny and full of body?”

“I’ll never tell,” he says with a grin. “And neither will Kat,” he adds, pointing at me with a warning finger when he sees me coming.

Laughing, my little brother looks to me. “You replaced us.”

My smile fades. “I could never replace you guys,” I say in all seriousness. “I mean, these guys are my city-family and they stop me from missing you guys so much, but they’d never replace you.”

Giving me a strange look, Tim walks to the stairs. “I know Kat. It was a joke. Lighten up.” Shaking his head, he takes his stack of gifts to the car.

Frowning, I shrug and face the others. “Could I please grab a hand taking some stuff down to the car?”

“Sure thing Kat,” Smith replies with a grin as he lays down his cards and begins pulling the pile of cash towards him. “We’re done here.”

Reeni eyeballs him ferociously as she throws down her own cards, a storm brewing on her face. “I can’t believe you just gave up when you could have had it all!” she cries, gesturing at her bank pile and her pair of twos. “So disappointed Kowalski. If you’ve got your opponent by the throat, make them bleed! You could have had an extra... three hundred bucks!” she says, doing a quick count. “Next time we play to the last.”

Stuffing his pockets with her cash, Smith chuckles. “I didn’t want to leave you penniless for the holidays.”

“Oh please.” Reeni waves a dismissive hand at him as she stands and stretches. “Chump change. You’ll never win if you’re trying to be the nice guy. This is why I’m training you!”

Again Smith laughs, shaking his head. “You’re training me? Other way around, me thinks. Nice guys can win. And win big. Now, how can we help, Kat?” he asks, turning back to me as Tim arrives back upstairs.

“Okay.” Assessing my crew, I give a nod. “Tim, can you please grab the last of the presents from my room? Nat, if you could grab my suitcase that would be great. Teeny, I feel like I might have forgotten something in our bathroom - would you do me a favor and check?” As they disappear to help, Reeni and Smith await their instructions patiently. “Do you two think you could manage the containers in the kitchen? Also, I divided the soup for freezing, but I’ve left enough in the fridge for whoever is home tonight.” I inform them as I start loading up Smith’s arms with Tupperware. “There are more cookies and muffins in the freezer too, if you run out,” I continue as he moves aside for Reeni to take over when his arms are full.

“You don’t have to do all this for us, Kat.” Reeni’s pale, almond-shaped eyes narrow a little at me. “I mean, obviously, we love it and appreciate it, because your cooking is beyond delicious, but you’re too good to us.”

Snorting, I wave her away as I put the last container atop her load. “You’re saying you guys don’t deserve good things?” I challenge, smiling as I roll my eyes. “I know I don’t have to. I like to. Think of it as a hobby.”

“Maybe you should try a hobby that’s less... goodie-two-shoes. Let your hair down and do something wild. Or someone wild,” she adds with a grin as her eyebrows dance at me.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” I reply with a lighter smile than I feel like giving. “Maybe I’ll start acting wild when you start settling down? Kind of a karmic trade-off?”

Considering this a moment, Reeni smiles and shakes her head. “Not sure I could keep to that yet,” she says with a wink. “Forget I said anything. I need your epic goodness in the world to balance the impact of my black soul.”

Laughing now as she does, I shake my head as I grab the cooling pie from the counter. “Your soul couldn’t possibly commit to being one color, Reeni. Your wild streak is a mile wide rainbow blast.”

As we finish loading the car, I hear shouting from down the street as Scarlett and Bruno run towards us.

Panting as they come to a stop, they grin at me. “Glad we caught you before you left,” Scar says, pulling me into a hug. Bruno then envelopes us both with his huge arms. “Have a great Christmas, Kat.”

“Thanks guys. You know, this morning’s goodbye brunch was to cover this.”

“We know,” Bruno says with a shrug as he leans back and gives Tim a friendly nod. “Doesn’t mean we won’t miss your face. And your words of wisdom. And your listening skills. And everything else about you.” Straightening his hat, he points to it. “And your hats are awesome. I swear, Scar almost beat up the girl on the checkout at the mini-mart because she was super interested.”

“Yeah, well. She was using the hat to hit on you,” Scar grumbles, pulling her own hat down further. “She didn’t say shit about my hat, and it’s the same frickin’ thing. She deserved the look I slapped her with.”

Laughing, I hug everyone again and wave goodbye as I climb into the front seat. “Have a great Christmas, guys. I’ll see you in a few weeks.” I close my door and Tim pulls away from the curb. “Okay. Next stop Green’s; to pick up supplies.”

“Is there any room for them?” Tim says with a smirk.

“Oh shush. You can park in the lot on the corner,” I say, shifting restlessly in my seat.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Just excited about heading home and being with you guys. I do miss you, ya know. Even the drama sometimes.”

Looking at me as if I’m crazy, Tim pulls into the lot and turns off the car. “You do not miss the drama.”

“Okay, maybe not. But it’s small town drama. Even at its worst, it doesn’t seem to touch on some of the stuff my city family have had to deal with. Tame drama is kind of nice.”

“Hmm,” Tim says, unconvinced as he stares out the windscreen at an unkempt man pushing a small trolley of belongings. “Is that guy wearing one of your hats?”

“Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “That’s Marv. He lives in an alley down the street. It’s like the fourth hat I’ve knitted him. He keeps trading them for stuff, but the way I figure it, if he trades it for something he needs, at least some other poor soul gets a warm hat. It works out in the end.” Exiting the car, I wait for Tim to join me.

Saying nothing, he looks at the containers in my hand and smiles. Shaking his head as I call out to Marv, he follows me. We wish Marv a merry Christmas and I give him one of the containers, which he accepts with a toothy grin and continues on his way. Tim looks at the other container and scans the street.

“Are there more Marv’s around here someplace?”

I shrug. “Probably. It’s not like I made stuff specific to bring him today. I didn’t know he’d be here. We just have plenty, and he has none. Most of the homeless crowd tend to stay a little closer to the shelters in winter, but Marv has his own methods for keeping warm. Shall we?” Gesturing towards Green’s I start walking.

“So you’re bringing that in case there’s another Marv?” he asks, pointing to the pie in my hands. “Is it some sort of anti-harassment thing? You give them baking and they be nice to you?”

“What? No.” Shaking my head, I roll my eyes. “I just try and be nice to everyone. It makes the city seem smaller when the neighborhood is friendly.”

The bell chimes above us as we enter and Tim looks around. “There’s no-one here.”

“Someone will be out in a minute,” I reassure him as the nerves in my stomach quiver, because I know who it’ll be. I’d been hoping Kimber or Linc would be in the store, but since they’re not, I know who will be coming in response to the door’s bell. I clutch the pie I’m holding and keep an eye on the back entrance as Tim inspects a beautifully arranged pyramid of lemons. He reaches out a finger to nudge one of the lemons on the bottom row, and smacking his hand before he can ruin the display, I glare at him.

“Do I seriously have to tell you to keep your hands in your pockets?”

“I was going to test its security, not knock it down. No-one saw me,” he says, rolling his eyes at me. “If nobody’s in the store, couldn’t people just come in and take things?” he asks, turning back to the counter and straightening.

“If people need to steal food, then they’re welcome to take it,” Lennox says, lowering two boxes onto the counter. “Katarina,” he says, nodding in greeting.

“Lennox. Hi.” Feeling my cheeks warming, I take a steadying breath. “This is my brother, Tim. Tim-bones, this is Lennox Green.”

Lennox holds out his hand and Tim shakes it, giving me strange looks all the while. The door chimes and we all look to see Lincoln and Kimber strolling in with steaming to-go cups from the coffee place down the street. Tim gives me another bizarre look as they greet us warmly while removing their outer layers.

“Did you make hats for the whole city?” he asks, as Linc removes his and runs a hand over his short hair.

Frowning, I hold my pie tighter. “Only for the people I care about,” I answer defensively.

“You care about homeless Marv with the trolley?”

“Well... yeah. I do. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing,” Tim says, raising his palms to me. “I guess you can take the girl out of the small town, but you can’t take the small town out of the girl,” he says, grinning at the others before turning back to me. “I guess I just figured you’d be different in the city.”

“I’m just me, Tim.” Feeling my cheeks heating more, I sigh and take a step closer to the boxes on the counter, trying to ignore the heat from Lennox’s gaze. “Is this my order?”

He gives a nod of confirmation and I wave Tim forward. “If you take them to the car, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Tim looks between Lennox and I briefly, rolls his eyes again and pulls the boxes towards him.

“I’ll take one and help you with doors,” Lincoln insists, as he shrugs his coat back on. Taking one of the boxes, he shoots raised eyebrows at Lennox and leaves with Tim.

Turning to Kimber, I smile, and hand her the pie I’ve been holding. “It’s from the apples I ruined yesterday, but I added some rhubarb.”

“Wow, thanks, Kat.” Grinning at her dad, she holds it to her nose and sniffs before moaning in appreciation. “If you could spill some bananas when you get back to town, we also like banana cake,” she says with a laugh as her dad shoots her a warning look.

“Why don’t you take that upstairs, Sprout.”

Looking to me briefly, she gives Lennox a slow smile and a very obvious wink before heading out the back. Waiting for the side door to shut, Lennox sighs and turns back to me. “You didn’t have to make us pie.”

“I know,” I say, folding my arms over my chest. “I just wanted to apologize.”

“For knocking over a few apples?” he asks, his brows knitting as he rings up the order on the register.

Taking a breath, I shake my head. “For... leading you on. I shouldn’t have. I dance a big game, but I don’t do any of that stuff.”

“Stuff?”

“Stuff.” Shrugging, I keep my eyes to the floor. “I just... don’t. You guys have this great thing going.” I gesture to the store, out back and upstairs to where the Greens live. “I don’t want to wreck it. There’s no maybe next year, Lennox. You’re a nice guy, but there’s no future with me, so just, um, don’t waste your time. Okay?” Putting the cash on the counter, I turn to leave.

Before I can get to the door, Lennox rushes in front of me, blocking the way. His warm eyes search my face as his jaw flexes in thought. Finally, he steps aside and opens the door for me.

“I’m not eating your apology.”

Gasping a little at his firm tone, I pull my coat closer around me and lift my chin. “That’s a shame. It’s good.”

His face softens. “I’m sure it is. It was made by a good person. I just think it was made for the wrong reasons, so it’ll turn sour in my mouth. See you next year, Katarina.” With a fragile smile, he raises a hand in farewell.

Staring at him through narrowed slits, I grapple for an argumentative response, because this is not how this discussion was meant to go.

“I am not good.”

Lennox raises an eyebrow. “I know,” he says, nodding. “You’re wonderful.”

Glaring at him now, I pull my hat down firmly. “You don’t know a damn thing.” Storming past him, I don’t even raise my head, let alone my voice to respond when Lincoln passes wishing me a happy Christmas, and a safe drive to Franklinville.

***

“YOU SURE YOU’RE OKAY?” Tim asks for the fifth time. “Normally you can’t shut up on the drive home.”

Forcing a smile, I wave him off as I look out the window. “I’m fine. Just tired.” When he still looks unconvinced, I sigh. “I was up late in the kitchen.”

Nodding, he frowns at the windscreen. “I guess those dancers will need to eat something while you’re away, but couldn’t they make an effort and feed themselves? I mean, you’re allowed a break, right? It’s Christmas.”

More lies.

Sighing again, I lean my head on the cold window as I watch the trees blur past. To protect the kids from learning of my unsavory life, I’ve told them I’m the live-in cook and cleaner for the dancers, and that I get free board, which is a good deal, because the salon job is only part-time.

“I take time off during the year to come home too Tim. It all adds up. It’s fine. The work pays well and keeps life in Franklinville as close to normal as the James family can get. Just leave it okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees still frowning. “At least you should get some peace tonight.”

Lifting my head, I look at him. “What do you mean?”

Grinning, he bounces in his seat a little. “I have a date.”

“Oh yeah? Anyone I know?”

Shaking his head, he smiles happily. “Nah. She’s new in town. Likes cars and responsible young chaps like moi.”

Snorting, I roll my eyes. “I can’t believe you use your brotherly love as a way to pull in the ladies.”

“What can I say? It’s works. Women love a man who takes care of his family.”

Catching my next sigh, I look out the window again. “They sure do.” Pushing Lennox Green from my mind, I look back to Tim. “So it’s just me and the girls, huh? I feel a chick-flick marathon coming on.”

Grunting, Tim mutters a remark about how he’d hate to miss that, then shakes his head. “Actually, Jem’s got a date too.”

Before I can say anything, his hand comes up between us and flaps slowly as if he’s telling me to calm down.

“Don’t worry. I’ve already vetted the guy. It’s her friend Adam from band. The guy’s a total sweetheart,” he says with a slow smile before continuing. “Of course, that didn’t stop me from threatening to damage his spotty little face if he treats her wrong.”

Shaking my head, I lean back in my seat. “Adam? I can’t say I’m surprised. They’ve been friends since grade school. Is this their first date?”

“Yeah. Apparently it’s taken him this long to get up the balls just to ask. I think her virtue will be safe for quite a while yet.”

Laughing a little as he does, I feel the tension in my shoulders ease a bit as the scenery becomes more picturesque. We’re getting closer to home.

“So me and the twins then. How did the party go?”

“Everything was fine. Thanks for sorting that, by the way,” he says, shooting me a grateful smile. “In fact things swung so far in the opposite direction that both girls are going for a sleepover tonight and then ice-skating with Sarah Matheson and her family tomorrow.”

“What?”

“I know,” Tim says, incredulous. “Girls. They change their minds every five seconds. I honestly don’t understand how their relationships work at all. Anyway, you’ll have the house to yourself until Jem gets back. I told her to be back by midnight, but I figure she’ll be in by ten. Seriously. It’s Adam - with his mom, the dude probably has a nine o’clock curfew.”

Returning Tim’s smile, I sink even lower in my seat and look out the side window again.

Great. An evening alone. After doing my best to get home to my family as soon as possible, they don’t even want to see me.

Reminding myself that it is a wonderful thing that they all have happy, fun-filled lives, I push away the selfish thoughts of when I might get to have mine.

“So what will you do with your wonderful peace and quiet?” Tim asks as we drive through the quiet streets of our little town. “You must never get any real peace in the city; living with so many others.”

Shrugging, I keep my eyes on the rows of houses with their yards and picket fences. I used to want one of those. “I like living with lots of people,” I say quietly. “It reminds me of home.” Inhaling deeply and pulling myself back into shape, I force another smile. “I guess I’ll run a hot bath and have an early night so I’m fresh for everyone tomorrow.”

“Or,” Tim says, pulling into our driveway, “Have a relaxing soak, and enjoy one of those lame movies you love, and just put your feet up, because you deserve a break.”

Smiling at my dear, sweet brother, I nod and keep the brave mask on my face as I study our house with an assessing eye. It’ll need painting this summer; I’d better work that into the budget. Our modest house is the last on the street before the park, and has only one neighbor I can compare it to.

The house next door is, of course, immaculate as always. I’d dreamed of living there when I was younger. I’d dreamed that the boy next door would fall madly in love with me - as I had with him; and that he’d invite me into his happy little family with their perfect little lives. A fairytale dreamed up by a stupid, naive child to distract herself from the reality of her shitty life.

Climbing out onto the driveway, I look to the dark windows of the neighbor’s home and shudder as a chill clings to my spine. Forcing my eyes away from the Coulson’s house, I help Tim pull things from the car, keen to get inside and forget about the neighbors.

Our house is empty and it just seems so wrong.

Setting the groceries on the kitchen counter, I turn to Tim as he arrives with his arms full of presents. Walking past me to the living room, he eases to the floor and lets the gifts slowly flow from his arms to pool around the base of the naked, plastic pine tree.

“We wanted to wait for you before we decorated it,” he explains, as he rises to find me looking at him.

“Thanks,” I reply, still frowning. “I thought dates and sleepovers would start later, Tim. Nobody’s here.”

Smiling, he nods. “I know. We did it on purpose. Peace and quiet is part of your present, but none of us wanted to stay away from you on actual Christmas, so today is the day.”

Suddenly speechless, my mouth opens and closes without sound. I’m sure they meant well, but time alone with my thoughts is the last thing I need. “That’s very sweet, but-”

“But nothing.” Cutting me off, Tim gives me a quick hug before moving in the direction of the car again. “You’ll be sick of us after five minutes tomorrow, so enjoy it while it lasts,” he says, disappearing out the door to get more things from the car.

I follow him, trying to keep calm by keeping busy. That’s what I do; what I’ve always done.

When the last of the gear is inside, Tim hugs me again, tells me it’s great to have me home, and gives me a joyful wave as he shuts the door behind him on his way out.

Slumping into a chair at the empty kitchen table, I look around at the mountain of stuff that needs putting away. Thank the stars for stuff!

Jumping straight back up, I open the fridge. If I wasn’t in need of distraction, I might surely have sighed at the sight before me, but stacking near-empty containers of questionable-looking leftovers in my arms, I dump them in the sink, silently praising my siblings for being gross. Emptying the fridge entirely, I wipe it out thoroughly before separating anything expired and re-stocking it with all the fresh stuff I’ve arrived with.

Tidying the kitchen and turning the dishwasher on, I smile as I put the kettle on. Tapping my fingers on the bench as I wait for it to boil, I glance through the double doors to the living room. My fingers tap a little faster.

Pushing away from the counter, I head for the hall closet to retrieve the vacuum cleaner. Once the living room is clean, I move through the rest of the house with the Hoover before storing it away again.

Flicking the switch on the kettle again, I wonder if anyone has mopped the kitchen floor since my visit last month. My fingers drum the counter-top like speeding cavalry. Leaving the water to boil, I fetch the mop and bucket.

Having painted myself out of the kitchen with hot soapy water, I do the bathrooms too before I’m back at the kettle. The house smells lemony-fresh, and my fingers begin tapping again. Squeezing my hands into balls, I cross my arms and move to the big glass doors that lead from the living room to the backyard. Pulling them open, I’m blasted by the cold, but I don’t care.

The air is fresh and crisp and smells nothing like my mother’s old room before she died.

I would’ve mopped that room twice a day. More at the end. Each time with a mixture of love and hatred.

Stepping out onto the porch, I see that one of the kids has pulled all the potted plants under the shelter. Liana, probably. Neither Roslyn nor Tim would have cared, and Jemima would have known that mom’s bulbs wouldn’t mind a bit of snow. Crouching by the nearest pot, I pluck a few small weeds from the largely bare surface. Swirling specks of white catch my eye and I look skyward to see a few flakes falling.

The ground already has a white coat that will stay for another week or two at least, kept that way by regular powdery dustings like this one. For a while, I watch. Tiny flakes float down from the dark sky, into the glow from the living room doors like tiny dancers entering the spotlight on a stage.

This yard used to be my stage too.

Standing, I walk down the steps and out into the framed light on the cold ground. Lifting my face to the sky, I watch the snowflakes gently tumble from the darkness above. With my arms raised, I dance with them as they drift in the light breeze and collect at my freezing feet.

I dance until my feet are numb and no longer want to keep me standing. Then I make them carry me back inside, where I shut the doors and drum my fingers against my thigh. I put the kettle on again and leave the kitchen in search of Tim’s slippers, because although Jem’s are by the door, they won’t fit my big clown feet.

Clomping back to the kitchen, I make a cup of tea and keep my fingers busy holding the cup so that they won’t drum the counter. I look at the clock on the stove. Six.

Six. I won’t be sleepy for hours yet.

Sighing, I set down my cup and open the fridge. Butter. Eggs. I set the oven to temperature and keep moving. Sugar. Flour. Soda. Vanilla. Chocolate chips. Butterscotch chips. Keep moving. Bowls, trays, spoons and cup measures.

By eight I’m surrounded by cookies. More cookies than my family could eat in a week. I have a serious problem. It’s not a hobby. It’s an addiction. My fingers twitch as they begin to get restless again.

Dropping to the cupboards below, I rummage around for clean biscuit tins or Tupperware. Unable to find any, I begin to panic until I remember the dishwasher. Breathing a sigh of relief, I fish a few out and wipe off the lingering drips before I start loading them with cookies from the rack.

Once they’re all cleared away, I find my cup of tea. Still full, it’s now stone cold. Tipping it down the drain I put the kettle on again and jump when the doorbell rings.

Grabbing containers, I try to hide the evidence of my unease by shoving them into any available gaps in the freezer, but still three containers sit on the counter. Throwing a dishtowel over them, I run to the front door.