No Place Like Home (Holiday Classics) (3 page)

Hard-Hearted Hannah answered for all of them. “Actually,” she said drawing out the word the way Alexandra had, “we pretty much think they stink. We’ve been hanging out in Cisco’s room. Is it time to eat?”

“No, it isn’t time to eat,” Jonathan snapped. “We’re having cocktails because there’s something I want to talk to all of you about. The least you could have done is dress for dinner. The three of you look like homeless people.”

“Let’s get to it, Dad,” Sam said, marching into the sterile-looking living room. “Are these sofas leather or plastic?” he demanded.

Alexandra’s chiseled features registered horror. “Leather, of course.”

“They kill animals for leather. I’m not sitting on this stuff,” Hannah said, dropping to the floor and crossing her legs. Her siblings joined her. “How long is this going to take? When are we going to eat?”

“As long as it takes, that’s how long,” their father snapped again.

Jonathan walked over to the bar, where he poured champagne into fragile flutes. “What’s your GPA this semester?”

“Three-point-eight,” the triplets said in unison. Their father looked pleased as he handed out the glasses.

“We all have high IQs,” Sara said. “What’s yours?” she asked Alexandra.

“It’s gotta be single-digit,” Sam muttered under his breath.

Jonathan cleared his throat. “Alexandra and I wanted you to be the first to know that we’re getting married on New Year’s Day. Of course we’d like you to attend the small formal wedding here at the apartment. To a long life rich with happiness,” he said to Alexandra, a sappy look of adoration on his face. The triplets merely held the flutes but didn’t drink from them or give any sign that they accepted the toast.

“Will Cisco be here for the wedding?” Sara asked.

“I rather doubt it,” her father responded.

“Then count us out. Isn’t it time to eat? By the way, we decided to drive back to school after dinner. We’d like to get the issue of Christmas cleared up now, though. We’re going to spend the holidays with Cisco, Sam said.”

“I closed up the house. You can’t go there. Alexandra and I want you to come here so we can spend Christmas together. I have several parties planned. We’re going to have a wonderful big tree. I want you here,” he said coldly.

Sam’s eyes narrowed, his slim body going tense. “We’ll just open the house back up. I know how to turn everything on.” His expression clearly defied his father to argue with him.

“We’ve always spent Christmas with Cisco. Even before Mom died, we spent Christmas in the mountains. It’s a tradition, and we aren’t giving it up…Dad,” Hannah said.

“Why don’t we just grab a sandwich and head on back,” Sam said, leaping to his feet.

“Good idea,” Hannah said.

“I’m with you guys,” Sara said, reaching for her brother’s hand so he could pull her to her feet.

“You’ll do no such thing. Oh, there’s Maureen now, signaling that dinner is ready,” Jonathan said, relief ringing in his voice.

“We’re acting like spoiled ten-year-olds,” Sam whispered in Sara’s ear as they walked to the dining room.

Sara snorted. “That’s exactly how I feel right now. Alexandra has Gold Digger plastered right across her forehead. This dinner is going to tell us the tale. If there aren’t six chairs at that table, I’m leaving. You know what else, I’m never coming back, either.”

Cisco always sat at the head of the table, their father and Sam at her right, Hannah and Sara on her left. There were six chairs, Sara saw to her relief. Now, the big question was, who was going to sit in their grandmother’s chair, or would it remain empty throughout the meal?

The chair at the head of the table remained empty as Jonathan took his seat next to Alexandra.

Sara stared at her brother through the tulip arrangement and over the top of the huge thirty-five-pound turkey. She gave a slight nod. Within seconds, Sam had moved his plate and chair to the opposite side of the table and was seated alongside his sisters.

The blessing was short and curt, offered up by Jonathan. Cisco always blessed and thanked God for a full ten minutes before she carved the turkey.

Sara continued to watch Alexandra through the tulip arrangement as her father nervously picked up the carving knife. She tried to be objective about her father’s choice in women but found it hard going. Cisco always said to look for the good in people. That was even harder to do.

Alexandra was dressed to perfection in designer wear, hair coiffed so that not a strand was out of place, makeup so flawless it looked like it had been sprayed on. Eyes bluer than a summer day couldn’t be real. Her teeth were small and pearl-like. They glistened behind glistening lips. Diamonds winked in her ears, on her neck, her wrists, and her fingers. She looked
shellacked.
Sara’s final assessment was that Alexandra was as vapid and artificial as a Barbie doll.

Her new stepmother.

Like hell.

Sara felt kicks to both her ankles. They were so in tune with each other, she knew she wouldn’t have to tell Hannah and Sam what her assessment was of Alexandra. She knew they were thinking exactly what she was thinking.

“When is Cisco going to be able to leave that place you stuck her in, Dad?” Sam asked.

“When the doctors say she can leave. I don’t think that’s going to be anytime soon if that’s your next question.”

“You know what I think, Dad. I think we might need a second opinion,” Hannah said as she chomped down on a celery stick. Alexandra winced delicately at the loud crunching sound.

Jonathan Cisco laid his carving utensils on the side of the platter. “Okay, I’ve had enough of this. Things are what they are, and they can’t be changed. I’m a lot older and wiser than you are. I know what’s best, and that’s all I’m trying to do. I’m sorry you don’t like the way things are going. You might as well know right now, I’m going to be making some changes in the company. You probably won’t like those either. Now can we just eat this damn dinner?”

Sam reared back in his chair. “What kind of changes? The three of us are stockholders, or did you forget that? You can’t make changes unless Cisco and the three of us agree. For now, we don’t agree. Of course, that might change when we know what you’re planning. Do you want to tell us now?”

“What’s gotten into the three of you? Why are you being so obnoxious?”

“You know damn well why, so don’t pretend you don’t. Did Cisco tell you she gave us her stock on our last birthday? Nope. I can see by the look on your face she forgot to mention that to you. We have the controlling interest, Dad,” Sara said.

“I think this might be a good time to leave,” Hannah said, pushing her chair back. “Before things turn ugly.” Sara and Sam moved in sync.

At the doorway to the stark-looking dining room, the trio turned. “It was so nice to meet you, Alexandra.” Out of the corner of her mouth, Sara said, “Now!”

Jonathan Cisco watched, his face turning white, when three folded sheets of paper, the promise lists, sailed in his direction. “All bets are off,” Sam said, turning on his heel.

“You didn’t tell me your children were such little shits, Jonathan,” the Barbie doll said.

“She called us little shits,” Sam said.

“We
are
little shits. Cisco would be appalled at our manners. She brought us up better than this. Get your stuff together and let’s get out of here. What I said back there about not returning here…I meant it, “Sara said as she brushed a tear from the corner of her eye.

Outside, in the cold, brisk November air, the triplets linked arms. “I’m starving,” Sam said.

“You were born starved. There’s a Burger King down the street and around the corner. You wanna go for it?”

Over Whoppers, fries, and milk shakes, they discussed the day’s events. “What’s he going to do when he finds out you lied, Sara? I’m talking about the company shares,” Sam said, biting into his Whopper.

“God only knows. I had to do something. I just felt I had to do it for Cisco. We’re going to call her as soon as we get in the car. I know she’ll go along with it. Let’s just hope she has her hearing aid in and answers the phone. Did either one of you like our future stepmother even a little bit?” Sara said, sucking on the straw in her milk shake.

Hannah stopped chewing long enough to respond. “No, not even a little bit. Dad likes her enough to be marrying her, so maybe he sees something we don’t. If we were younger, she’d be the wicked stepmother and sending us off to boarding school. That’s my take on Alexandra.”

“Sam, you’re a guy, what does Dad see in her?”

“The outside of her. Dad always went for looks. She looks good standing next to him. That’s what men want. Remember how pretty Mom was? But she was pretty in a motherly, wholesome way, not like that artificial bunny. Single-digit IQ is on the money. I bet she
excels
in counting money, though,” Sam said as he wadded up his napkin. “I gotta say this is probably the worst Thanksgiving we ever had.”

“Christmas is going to be great. Let’s just hold on to that thought. This is just a little rough patch in the road,” Sara said as she cleared the table. “If we get you back to school on time, Sam, you might be able to take that little exchange student you’ve been drooling over skiing tomorrow.”

L
oretta Cisco knew it was the Trips on the phone the moment it rang. She always thought of her grandchildren as the Trips. She fiddled with the small hearing aid in her right ear, making sure the volume would enable her to hear every word her beloved grandchildren uttered. She hoped she sounded more upbeat than she felt. Frederica, Freddie for short, her loyal golden retriever, squirmed next to her on the sofa until her head was in Cisco’s lap. She listened, too.

“It’s us,” the triplets bellowed in unison. “Crank up your hearing aid, Cisco, because we’re in the car heading back to school.”

“So soon! Good heavens, what time was dinner? I thought you weren’t leaving till tomorrow.” They all started to jabber at once. “One at a time, please,” their grandmother pleaded.

“We crashed and burned, Cisco,” Sara said. “Dinner was scheduled for three o’clock. We ate at Burger King at three-forty-five. It wasn’t all that bad, and now we’re on our way back to school. You should have let us spend Thanksgiving with you.”

“It was awful,” Hannah chimed in.

“The pits,” Sam said. “You’re gonna hate the apartment. They redecorated everything but your room. Black and white is in this year. We slept in your room last night. It still smells like you.”

“They’re getting married New Year’s Day. We passed on the invite,” Sara said. “Dad got a little pissy when we told him we were spending Christmas with you. He said he closed up the house.” They started to babble again.

Freddie barked, then Cisco said, “Slow down, one at a time.”

“We’re never going back there, Christmas or wedding, whatever. Just this minute we decided instead of going back to school, we’re heading your way. Too bad we listened to you, Cisco. We could all have been together right now. We should arrive sometime late tonight. Keep the light burning,” Hannah said.

The old lady smiled as her left hand stroked the golden retriever next to her. How she loved those rambunctious grandchildren of hers.

“The best part is we’re taking the next semester off so we can take care of you. We’re gonna spring you out of that place you’re in over Christmas break. Don’t tell anyone, though. Oh, another thing, Cisco, we told Dad a lie. We said you gave us your stock on our last birthday. You might have to back us up on that, or we’re all gonna be sucking wind. He wants to change things at the company. You will back us up, won’t you?” Sam asked, his voice sounding anxious, his eyes on the road ahead of him.

“Good Lord! What else did you do? We’ll discuss your last semester later.” A smile played around Cisco’s mouth as she listened to her grandchildren’s excited voices. Freddie was sitting up, aware that something was, as Cisco put it, going down.

Cisco leaned back and listened to the tale her grandchildren were spinning for her. She heard them, but her thoughts were on their pending arrival in a few hours. When they finally hung up thirty minutes later, she started to cry. Freddie leaned into her, licking her wet, wrinkled cheeks. She blubbered then because there was no one to see or hear her but Freddie. “Get me some tissues, baby,” she said.

Freddie returned, dragging the toilet tissue from the bathroom. She barked as she nosed the long trail of paper into Cisco’s hand. “No tissues, huh? For what this place costs you’d think there would be linen hankies everywhere.” Freddie was back on her lap, nudging the toilet tissue into a pile in her mistress’s lap.

“I’m glad they’re coming, but I hate for them to see me in this god-awful place. I hate it. I hate that Jonathan put me here. This is what happens when you get old, Freddie. They don’t want you anymore. They just want to hide you away and forget about you. Then they try to ease their conscience by showing up for ten minutes on a holiday.
If
they show up at all.” She started to cry again, as her memories took over.

She allowed fifteen minutes for feeling sorry for herself.
Goddamn it, I’m not feeble and I’m not feebleminded either. I might be having a temporary setback with my cataracts and hearing aids, but I’m not ready to bite the dust yet. And I sure as hell am not ready
for a place like this.

A place like this.
It was a pricey establishment. She should know, she’d donated enough money to the facility over the years. With each generous donation she’d thanked God that she didn’t have to live in such an institution. That’s probably how Jonathan was able to slap her in there on such short notice, her being such a loyal contributor and all. She couldn’t help but wonder what else he’d promised the company that owned Laurel Hills.

She’d been here once before, years earlier, taking the tour after a successful fund-raiser. The grounds were luxurious, full of mountain laurel, the state flower. The shrubs were manicured, the rolling hills, emerald green. And that’s where the beauty stopped. The assisted-living quarters were three tiny rooms, bedroom, sitting room, bath, and a kitchenette. Everything was stainless steel and bolted to the floor so that residents didn’t trip over anything. The floors defied description, tiles with some kind of tread on them. There were no paintings on the walls, no colorful cushions, no knickknacks of any kind. It was up to the patient to supply those things with the staff’s approval. She hadn’t brought a thing other than her clothes and Freddie.

She supposed she was treated well. A doctor came by twice a day. Four times a day her phone rang, and an anonymous voice on the other end asked if she was all right. A nurse showed up to help her shower even though she could do it herself. They brought food that at times was edible and other times not so edible. She had a television that she could listen to as well as books on tape. An aide walked Freddie five times a day.

She hated Laurel Hills.

But the Trips were coming. She clapped her hands in glee. One way or another, they’d make things right. Suddenly, her stainless-steel environment didn’t seem as bad as it had before their phone call. Freddie squirmed and wiggled closer. Cisco hugged her tightly. As long as she had Freddie, she could handle anything.

Well, almost anything.

The Trips would handle the rest.

Alexandra Prentice watched her fiancé pace the long living room. From time to time he smacked his clenched fist into his open palm. She had to play it just right. She walked into the dining room, fixed two plates of food, and carried them into the kitchen. “Maureen,” she said sweetly, “I’d like you to start a fire in the living room and set up a little table. Mr. Cisco and I will be dining in front of the fire. I fixed our plates, so all you have to do is warm them up. Oh, and don’t forget the wine.”

She went back into the living room. Jonathan was still pacing. She bristled at the fact that he didn’t seem to realize she was in the room. If there was one thing she hated, it was to be ignored. Especially when she’d paid a fortune for her Escada ensemble. The little shits hadn’t even been impressed with the way she looked. Compared to their jeans and Penn State sweatshirts, she looked like royalty. A tiara would have been a nice touch.

Jonathan continued to march up and down the room, only by then he was muttering to himself. He was oblivious to the fact that Maureen had sparked the fire and set up a small table with two spindly chairs. The wine bucket was set up, the table decorated with a fine linen cloth and a small arrangement of tulips. The dishes, silver, and glassware were Cisco’s finest. When the housekeeper nodded, Alexandra walked over to her soon-to-be husband and touched his arm gently. He looked up in surprise.

“Darling, don’t take this to heart. Your children were upset because…because they aren’t used to change. They wanted their grandmother here, and that’s understandable. I wish now that you hadn’t invited me or made our wonderful announcement. It was too much for them to accept all at once. I know you feel as terrible as I do about what happened. Tomorrow is another day, darling, and we’ll do double time working this out so that everyone is happy.” Her voice was soft, almost a purr of intimacy, as she led him over to the table. “We have so much to be thankful for, Jon. It’s Thanksgiving, so let’s try to enjoy our dinner.”

Jonathan looked first at the fire, then at the little cozy table, and finally up at the woman he was planning on marrying. He wondered if he was making a mistake. She smiled then. “I want to apologize for calling your children little shits. It was a bad moment. One I will regret forever. And, another thing, darling, I really wish you’d call your mother and wish her a Happy Thanksgiving. She’s all alone.”

Jonathan nodded. “You always know exactly the right thing to say, Lexy,” he said, using his pet name for her. “Whatever did I do to deserve you? You’re right, we have to work at making this come out right, and I will call Mom after dinner. I feel so bad about all of this. Did I ever tell you about the time Mom and the triplets…?”

Alexandra smiled until she thought her face would split wide open. One tale led to another and then another until Jon was almost crying with despair. Like she really gave two hoots in hell about the past. She played the game, though. It was a good thing she’d been the one to set up the rules.

“Have some more wine, darling.” If she kept plying him with wine, he’d soon forget his intention to call the old bat and possibly even the triplets to see if they arrived safely back at school. She wondered if it was true that the old woman had given her shares of stock to the triplets. Why would they lie? Why indeed?

It was one-thirty in the morning when Sam steered the black Range Rover up the winding road that led to a small gatehouse and security gate. Tiny dots of light could be seen on the other side of the gate. Roadway lights to guide late-night callers, he supposed.

“We’re here to see Loretta Cisco,” Sam said irritably. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem is,
sir,”
the guard said just as irritably, “we close and lock the gates at eleven o’clock. That means no one goes in or out unless they have a pass.”

“Well guess what? They didn’t mail us the pass card yet,” Sara said.

Hard-Hearted Hannah rolled down her window in the back and poked her head out. “I thought this was an assisted-living facility, not a prison. C’mon, give us a break and open the gates. We’re tired, and it’s cold. Our grandmother has been waiting for us, and it is Thanksgiving. Call the office if you don’t believe us, and let us in,” Hannah pleaded.

“I just work here. I don’t make the rules. I’m sorry, I’m not authorized to open the gates, and your name isn’t on the list. You’ll have to come back in the morning.”

“Let me see that list!” Hannah said, snatching it out of the guard’s hands. She took the pencil off the clipboard and scribbled their names. “Now we’re all on your list. Okay, Sam,
HIT IT!”

“Oh, shit!” Sara squealed, as Sam backed up and gunned the Rover in preparation for plowing down the gates.

“Best thing I ever bought was the brush guard for this baby. Cisco was so impressed when I told her this vehicle could do anything, even mow down some security gate. Who knew?” he quipped, his voice as shaky as his hands gripping the steering wheel.

Sirens wailed through the quiet night as floodlights sprang up, lighting the grounds in a bright orange glow.

“This probably wasn’t one of our brightest ideas,” Sam said as he tore down the gravel roads. “Don’t be surprised if our asses get hauled off to jail.”

“There it is, Building 16. Cisco’s rooms are on the left. C’mon, c’mon, we need to see her before we get hauled off,” Sara said, leaping from the Rover even before it came to a full stop. She could hear Freddie barking. She grinned as she ran up the walk and hurtled through the door. “We’re here, Cisco!”

The old lady laughed. “I knew it as soon as I heard the sirens. Freddie knew it, too. The three of you come here and give me a big hug. Lord, I’ve missed you,” Cisco said, standing up so her grandchildren could wrap their arms around her, careful not to disturb the soft cast on her arm. Freddie danced around in circles, waiting for her turn to be hugged. Sam was the first to drop to the floor to tussle with the golden dog, who yipped and pawed the young man.

“We plowed down the gate, Cisco. They said we weren’t on the list. I wrote our names on the list of visitors. You did say you left a permanent visitation form for us, didn’t you?” Hannah asked uneasily.

“I certainly did. Being a holiday and all, it’s possible there’s a relief guard at the gate-house, and he didn’t know. It’s also entirely possible your father rescinded the pass,” Cisco said. “Shhh, someone’s coming.”

The knock was loud and forceful, a no-nonsense sound. Sara opened the door. Standing in front of her were a Pennsylvania state trooper and three of Laurel Hill’s security guards. Two nurses and a young man in a white lab coat brought up the rear.

Bedlam ensued as Freddie raced to the door, her lips peeling back from her teeth. Her tail dropped between her legs as her big body quivered. “Easy, girl, easy,” Sara said softly.

“Let’s hear it,” the trooper said, his hand on his holster.

The triplets started to talk at once. They played the game they’d always played, talking over one another, one finishing the other’s sentence until the person they were talking to gave up and walked away. The trooper didn’t budge. His hand stayed on his holster. Freddie continued to growl.