“When we get back to Pascagoula,” she said, keeping her attention on the passing landscape, “just drop me at the motel. My Bronco should be there by now.”
“It’s Christmas Eve, Addy.”
What the hell did that have to do with anything? “So it is.” She would call her mom. Maybe join her for dinner somewhere in town. No big deal. Holidays weren’t really her thing. Maybe that made her a bad daughter, but a cop’s work didn’t revolve around the federally recognized dates on a calendar.
“My family always has dinner together on Christmas Eve. I thought you might want to join us.”
He had to be kidding. “I don’t think your family would appreciate an unexpected last-minute guest, particularly one named Adeline Cooper.”
“You know better than that.” He glanced at her. She refused to meet his eyes. “My family adores you.”
“Your family adored me nearly a decade ago, Wyatt.” She did turn to him then. “Before the shit hit the fan. Lines were drawn, in case you’ve forgotten. Sides were taken. There weren’t too many folks who took mine.”
The hollow roar of the tires on asphalt filled the lapse in conversation for a minute or more. What she had said was the truth. He couldn’t deny it. Couldn’t change it.
And she did not want to talk about it.
Now or ever.
“I’m not taking no for an answer on this, Addy. I’ll pick you up at ten before eight,” he announced. “If your mother would like to join us, we’ll pick her up, too.” When she started to argue, he cut her off. “You’re in my jurisdiction now,Detective, and that’s an order.”
The chief had made her promise to show respect. She wasn’t so sure that included family dinners. But what the hell? It was Christmas.
13
Forrest General Hospital
Hattiesburg, Mississippi
Christmas Eve; 6:00 p.m.
Danny sat in a chair in the corner of his mom’s room. It scared him to look at her. She couldn’t open her eyes and she couldn’t talk to him. The machines around her bed made funny noises.
This whole place smelled funny.
He wanted to go home.
Where was his daddy? Danny was worried about him.
His grandma and grandpa stood by his mom’s bed talking to her. She didn’t answer. Danny didn’t understand why they kept talking. It was kinda dumb. It made his chest hurt when his grandma cried.
It wasn’t supposed to be sad at Christmas. His mom wouldn’t like everyone being sad. He wished his mom would wake up so they could go home and find the presents she had hidden. Every time Danny asked to go home his grandma would cry. So he didn’t ask anymore. If he asked when his dad was coming to get him, his grandpa told him not to talk about his dad.
This was the worst Christmas ever.
Danny stared at the people passing in the long white corridor outside his mom’s room. Bunches of people. Not many kids, though. Lots of nurses and doctors. And people who looked sad like his grandma.
Nobody paid any attention to Danny. Kids were supposed to be at home getting ready for Christmas tonight. He wondered if other moms told their kids stories the way his mom did. He sure wished she could tell him a story now. He smiled, tried to remember what her voice sounded like. The way she smiled and tapped him on the nose with her finger when she told him a story.
The policeman who had been sitting in a chair outside his mom’s room when Danny got here had smiled and asked what Santa was bringing him for Christmas. Danny told him the truth, he didn’t know. That made Danny start to wonder what would happen after he went to sleep tonight. Would Santa really know that Danny wasn’t at home? Would his presents get dropped off at his grandparents’ house?
He didn’t want Santa to forget his presents.
Maybe Santa would take them to Danny’s house whether he was there or not.
Danny wished the policeman would come back from getting coffee. Maybe he could tell Danny what Santa would do. He didn’t want to bother his grandma or grandpa right now. They were real upset over something the doctor said. Danny didn’t understand what a hematoma was. The doctor had said his mom might need surgery.
It must be bad ’cause his grandma was crying again. It made Danny’s stomach hurt even more.