Page 5 of Amy's Santa

Amy? Well, she’s made a new life in Phoenix. Like everyone, I was as proud as punch when she got her bachelors, then her masters, and has now become a registered nurse.

On the rare occasions she comes back home she appears happy, and while I prefer to think of her as the sweet little girl I took to the desert museum, she’s that no more. Whether it’s her profession, or just the natural progression of the years, there’s a new earthiness about her and her manner when she jokes with my brothers suggests she’s an innocent virgin no more.

Chapter One

Amy (Age 27)

“How are you feeling?” Xander looks at me sideways as he drives down the I-10 toward Tucson. We left Phoenix an hour and a half ago, so we’re getting close.

Trouble is, the nearer we get, the more nervous I’m feeling.

“I’m not sure I can do this.” I bite my lip.

“You don’t need to.” His face is tight. “We can still turn around and go home if you prefer.”

I don’t reply, while inside I want to jump at that option. Missing Christmas at the clubhouse would send out a message I don’t want sent.

“Look, your dad’s a good man from what you’ve told me about him, and your stepmom has always had your back. No one’s going to hold what happened against you. Don’t you think it would be a weight off your mind if you came clean and explained? What happened wasn’t your fault, Amy.” The last is a statement he’s made time and again, but that’s not how it feels to me, and not how my family would see it. On the other hand, if they do view it Xander’s way, that reaction would have implications.

There are some things you can say to your father, and some things you can’t. Especially when he’s a member of a one-percenter club. “If I did, Xander, whatever part he thought I’d played, the outcome would be the same. He’d want to sort it out for me.”

I think I hear him mumble,nothing wrong with that. But I might have misheard. I hope I have.

“Xander, I’ve only myself to blame—”

“No you have not,” he rounds on me before flicking his eyes back to the highway. “Never think that.”

I shrug. It was me who’d put myself in the position I had. It’s time to change the subject, it’s not as though we haven’t been having this discussion for the past three months. “Thank you for coming with me. I’m sure you’d have preferred to have spent Christmas with your own family.”

He reaches out his hand and rests it momentarily on my thigh. I feel the warmth which is removed before I can react. “You need me,” he replies, simply. “They don’t.”

“I don’t deserve you, Xander.”

But he’s silent and doesn’t reply.

We come up to the turning. “Here.” I point it out. “After that saguaro that looks like it’s waving its arm.” As a kid I always thought the ancient cactus was waving to welcome me home or say goodbye depending on whether I was coming or going. Somehow it had survived the wildfire that had swept down from the mountains, hell, it must be more than twenty years back. An event well remembered by my family, my twin brother and sister had been born in the midst of the flames and smoke. Baptised by fire as Dad often says.

He’d also add that it had given them their fiery composition, and he might have a point. I was the quiet one of the family, the obedient little girl. Jacob and Isabel, the complete opposite, had given Heart and Marcia more than one headache over the years. Hard to think they’re twenty-one now, legally able to drink.Where has the time gone?Dad and Marcia had been luckier with Alexis, my younger sister, nineteen now. She, more like myself, is quiet and thoughtful, possessing no desire for rebellion.

But I had rebelled,I remind myself. Though the decision had been forced upon me, it had turned out to be one of the best moves I’d ever made until three months ago.

“This must be it, now.” Xander’s been driving slowly up the track that the brothers work hard to maintain, but still seems to attract potholes like a plague. I wince in sympathy for the suspension of his expensive car, but all credit to him, he doesn’t say a thing.

“Show time,” I say, softly, a rolling feeling in my gut as the gates of the compound come into sight. “Pull up. The prospect doesn’t recognise us.” Getting out of the car, I raise my hand and waggle my fingers, knowing we’re expected, but I can’t recall having seen the man who’s on guard duty today before. But then, it’s been a long time since I last returned.

With a chin lift and cautious stare, the prospect comes to the gate.

“I’m Amy.”

He doesn’t reply, just presses a button and the big gates slide back on their rails. He waves us to a halt as we enter the compound. When I open my window, he steps to the driver’s side. “Cars have to park behind the auto-shop.”

I nod. Nothing’s changed since I’ve been gone, except a new man who doesn’t understand I was born on the compound and lived here while I was growing up. I indicate where Xander should go, then wait while he gets our bags, and stands easily holding one in each of his strong hands. I know there’s no point offering to carry my own.

It’s surprisingly quiet as we walk the couple of hundred yards up to the clubhouse. Xander looks around him. “It’s peaceful here,” he observes. “I’m surprised you ever wanted to leave.”

Sometimes, so am I. But I had ambitions and wanted to fulfil them, and I have—making a life for myself up in Phoenix. Of course, there was something else that had made it impossible to stay, but as the years have passed, I barely think of the reason anymore. When I do, it no longer seems important.

As we draw closer, I hear music flooding out from the clubhouse, and despite my misgivings at coming home, my lips curve as I hear the Christmas tunes I’ve heard every year since I was born. Christ, some of that music must be seventy years old now, but none of the more recent stuff can compete with the old favourites. If I’m not mistaken, I’ll find Peg’s in charge of the music tonight, and heaven help anyone who tries to take over the controls from him. Another sign things here don’t change. It’s me that’s coming back different.And broken.

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