Page 3 of Under the Mistletoe
“I have one more thing I need to grab.” Hannah handed the foil-covered dish in her hands to Luke. “But if you don’t get back too late, Devin, you should join us for pie and games.”
“Maybe.” But she wouldn’t. As much as they said she was welcome, and as much as she longed for a family like this, she had no need to impose on others.Asking for help when you are capable of doing it yourself is selfish.Her mother had drilled that into her all her life. Maybe this wasn’t asking for help, but the same principle applied. Take care of your own needs.
Hannah’s easy smile turned down at the edges as they made eye contact. She walked back to Devin and laid her hands on Devin’s shoulders. “I used to try and do it all alone. It doesn’t work. I learned you are never alone in Heritage. Even when you want to be. Remember that. Consider us your extended family. It’s what we consider you.”
Something gripped Devin in the chest, and she struggled to swallow. This was what she wanted, but it wasn’t her reality, no matter what Hannah said. Her reality was detached parents who, if she didn’t hurry, would be waiting for her at the restaurant. And not patiently. She pulled out her keys as she stepped back. “I’ve got to go.”
“Just promise if you need anything, you’ll let us know.” Hannah pinned her with her gaze.
Devin nodded as she climbed into her car.Consider us your extended family.Could it be that simple? She started the engine and headed south on Henderson Road.
She waved to the Taylor family as they divided between their minivan and Luke’s truck. What would a real Thanksgiving be like? A family where everyone was welcome and no one was made to feel like an inconvenience?
She needed to stop feeling sorry for herself. After all, she hadn’t had a rough childhood. Working with kids in foster care and those who had gone through adoption had taught her it could’ve been worse. So much worse. She’d always had everything she needed. Everything but people. Actually, Karen, her nanny, had been very present until she’d been let go when Devin turned twelve. She laughed to avoid the tears forming. How sad was it that her emotional rock was the memory of a nanny she hadn’t seen in over fourteen years?
As she wound her way through the town toward Heritage Street that would lead to the US 31, the Victorian homes slowly gave way to the larger properties and farmhouses set back from the road.
Her phone rang through her radio, and Devin accepted the call. “MaryLynn?”
“Hey, Devin. I know it’s Thanksgiving, but do you have a moment?”
“I’ll be driving for the next two hours. What’s up?” Her heart gave a small poke as she passed the green Carter Road sign on her right.
“I was going to call you for a meeting on Monday, but I don’t want you freaking about my last text until then.” A deep sigh accompanied her words, and Devin would put money on the fact her friend had removed her glasses and was rubbing her eyes like she normally did when she was stressed. That wasn’t good. “We had an end-of-the-year budget meeting last week, and we need to make cuts.”
Cuts? As in cutting a few events, or as in eliminating her job? “But we just started this program. It takes time to?—”
“I know. I told them. But giving has been down this year, and right now, yours has the highest spending with the lowest return.”
“What can I do to change their minds?” Devin adjusted the heat as the chill of the car settled in her toes. The road had been cleared, but occasional clumps of snow broke free from the trees and littered the path.
“I don’t know. But we’ll try to save it, trust me. I have to go. Let’s talk more tomorrow. And don’t worry about it, enjoy Thanksgiving.” The line went dead.
Not worry about it? She had basically said the program here was as good as dead. But it wasn’t her own job she was worried about. MaryLynn had told her before that if the program failed, they would move her position back to Detroit. But where did that leave all the kids she worked with? Their little faces flashed through her mind. The last thing they needed was one more person walking out of their lives.
The phone rang through the car with another incoming call, and she glanced at the screen. Mom. A pit landed in her stomach. Devin tapped the screen and accepted the call. “Hey, Mom, what’s up?”
“We have amazing news.” The tone said it all. There was only one thing her parents got this excited about, and it wasn’t seeing their only child. “We were headed out the door when one of your dad’s samples showed up positive. Can you believe it?”
Strangely, she could. It would still be positive tomorrow, but they wouldn’t want to waste a minute. She flipped on her blinker and turned into the Marathon gas station just before the on-ramp to US 31.
“I was hoping to catch you before you left, but it sounds like you’re already on your way.” The disappointment in her mom’s tone was a gut punch. They’d still agree to meet her, but they wouldn’t be happy about it, and they’d be distracted the whole time. She couldn’t hold back the tears that sprang to the corners of her eyes.
“I’ve not gotten far.” She kept her voice steady. The Marathon station was dark, but a few of the pumps were open. She needed gas but two cars were filling up, and she was fairly certain that was Mrs. Smith at last pump. The last thing she needed right now was someone asking her what was wrong and breaking into tears while she talked to her parents. “I can turn around.”
“Oh, great. We do want to see you, but this is actually very important.” The story of her life.
“No worries.” Devin turned away from the pumps and chose a remote parking spot away from the other cars. It hadn’t been cleared of the six inches of snow that had fallen in the night, but it would give her more privacy. She was about to stop when her front wheels dropped down off what must have been the edge of the asphalt. Grinding from the scraping of the undercarriage filled the car. Oops. She shifted into park. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mom. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”
“Christmas for sure. There’s no way we’ll miss that.” Her mom’s voice had softened but shifted back to its practical tone. “After all, they close the lab that day.”
Of course they did. Because that was the only reason her parents would guarantee taking time off to see her. That was the only way their daughter wouldn’t be seen as an interruption to things that were actually important.
She ended the call and drew a steadying breath. So much for Thanksgiving dinner. So much for her parents showing up this time. Another lump formed in her throat. She had to convince the board this program was worth it. She refused to abandon the kids who had just begun to trust her, because showing up mattered.
When the last car drove away from the pump, she shoved her car into reverse and pressed the gas. But the car only rocked as the whir of spinning tires filled the air. She tried again, slower, but this time the car didn’t even rock.
She popped open the door and stepped out into the frigid air. Her breath escaped in white clouds as she squatted by the front wheel and brushed away the snow to get a better look. The tire had dropped off the edge all right, and it was down about six inches on solid ice. She wasn’t going anywhere.
