When in December (Home Haven #1)

Chapter 14

fourteen

. . .

Aaron

“Just letting you know I’m on my way.”

I sat up from where I attempted another sit-up without much success after the first dozen. What was worse was when I tried to push myself up directly to my feet.

Oz scampered out of the way from where he watched me with minimal amusement. My leg wasn’t having it. No matter how much I stretched before or after, it locked up on me or fell asleep whenever I attempted to push it past its normal limits.

Or limits now.

I grunted as I tried to listen again to the voice coming out of the phone I had pressed against the side of my head. When I’d answered, I’d figured that Poppy’s high-pitched voice would greet me, telling me that she was coming in even earlier than normal today.

But that wasn’t who was on the other end of the line.

“What?” I croaked into the phone.

“I’m on my way to your house to drop off the kids for the day.” My sister, Sarah, rushed over her words. “I don’t have any other option. It’s last minute, so it’ll be a quick drop. See you in a bit!”

“Sarah!” I yelled into the phone, but she’d already hung up.

What did she mean that she’s coming to drop off the kids? Did she accidentally call me instead of her nanny? Or better yet, a day care?

I yanked a pair of clean pajama pants out from the basket—since we’d finally had a washer and dryer delivered. I’d called and made sure they understood that it would happen before the end of the week someway, somehow so I didn’t end up having to go pick up the appliances and put them in myself like I had the strings of holiday lights.

I was pretty sure Poppy could tell that they had been done by an amateur rather than her fancy and expensive outsourcing, but she hadn’t said anything. Every time something new was delivered, she’d gasp with delight, a gleam in her eyes telling me that she knew that it was me, but again, she never said anything.

We just kept working at our own steady pace. Considering I hadn’t wanted Poppy in the house at all before, it was kind of nice.

More than nice.

I’d even been getting some good sleep from how hard we were working during the days.

I called my sister back and listened to it ring.

And ring.

And go straight to voice mail.

Outside the cabin, a car honked.

Oz rushed forward to the door as if he could see anything out of the window, cast in a hazy glow of morning sunlight.

Pajama pants tucked into unlaced boots, I watched as a monster of a black SUV pulled up in my snow-covered driveway. My sister never skimped when it came to safety, especially in her cars that had to make it through the harsh northern winters.

The tires rolled through the weather like a bright and sunny day.

My sister was out of the driver’s seat while the lights of the car were still on and her children, presumably, were still in the back seat. She left the door open as she held on, careful not to let go until she was steady.

Snow lifted and clumped into the edges of my boots, soaking my socks with every step I made out from the mudroom door. “Sarah.”

“I need you to take the kids,” she said without greeting. “Just for the day.”

“No.” I didn’t pause before I replied, “What are you even talking about right now?”

“Please.” Sarah looked between the car and back to me again.

I looked at the car, tilting my head away and letting my voice drop in case my niece and nephew were listening. “I thought you wanted them to have some magical fairy-tale winter-wonderland holiday here.”

“That was the plan.”

“Well, this place still isn’t you holiday dream home.”

Her shoulders slumped with impatience before taking notice of my pajamas. “Aaron, please … are you okay?”

I narrowed my eyes.

She cocked her head down toward where I limped to the one side of my body, trying to get myself standing straight. “Is your leg?—”

“It’s fine,” I cut her off. “Just fell asleep when I had to come bounding out into the snow for you.”

She huffed. “This shouldn’t be a big ask.”

“It isn’t?”

“You know I wouldn’t leave them here if I had another choice. The nanny is off. My backup babysitter isn’t available. Liana barely thinks that she even needs a babysitter anymore, which is a whole other issue. I tried to make this easy for you. They’re all packed and everything.”

I stared at her.

She stared right back. A quirk twisted at the corner of her lips. “I bet you wish you were at that retreat I signed you up for now.”

I barked a laugh.

“I know you don’t like kids?—”

“I didn’t say that,” I grumbled.

My sister didn’t bother to correct herself or elaborate. “You’re their uncle. We have to leave for the night. I’ll be back in twenty-four hours.”

“What’s going on?”

“Nathan’s aunt fell ill. It doesn’t look good,” Sarah explained.

“Nathan …”

“My husband , Aaron.”

I blinked. “Oh.”

“Yes. Oh . Anyway, he was close to her,” said Sarah. “We have to make sure we visit in case she doesn’t make it when we go up to see his side of the family for the holiday.”

“You could just go to his side of the family instead of coming here for Christmas, you know,” I offered.

Her mouth set into a thin line. It was the signature look that Mom used to make at us. A face that said, We aren’t talking about this right now.

Or ever.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t know what to do with kids.”

“They aren’t that tricky, Aaron. Stick them in front of the television if you must. Their tablets are packed in their stuff, too, if you get desperate. Let them play games. They’re self-sufficient—mostly. Except for Gavin in some cases.”

“In some cases?” I asked.

“Make sure he doesn’t wander off and that he doesn’t stand too far away from the toilet bowl when he has to pee.”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Their pajamas are in the bag for when they fall asleep. They really shouldn’t give you any problems.” She bit her bottom lip. It might be the first time I saw the beginnings of my sister about to beg. “I’m not asking the world of you right now. Let the kids spend time with their uncle they’ve barely met. I’ll be back in the morning to get them.”

I heard the crunch of snow behind me. I’d forgotten that I hadn’t closed the mudroom door.

I knew who it was by the way my sister’s eyes widened. “You got a dog?”

“No,” I said before promptly correcting myself. “Yes. I don’t know.”

She raised an eyebrow at me so high it would soon disappear into her hairline. “You don’t know?”

“It’s …” It’s Vassar’s dog, I was about to say. Instead, I glanced down at Oz. “Yeah. Guess so.”

“Is he … safe?”

“No. You should probably take the kids and leave now before he starts going completely insane.” Right now, Oz looked more likely to take a roll in the snow. I waved a hand at him, and he went frolicking to the closest tree to take a piss. “He’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

I stared at her and raised my eyebrows this time. “Don’t you need to unload your precious cargo and get out of here?”

Sarah glared before turning to the car, waving through the window. “Liana. Gavin! Grab your stuff and get out of the car and inside Uncle Aaron’s!”

The side doors of the car burst open. Out tumbled a small glob of a boy in a navy-blue puffer coat. He nearly fell over twice before he tugged his overnight duffel bag, which was as big as he was, out from under the back seat. He lugged it through the snow by the handle before his eyes widened at the cabin.

The Christmas lights hanging from the gutters were on since it was still dark.

“Whoa!” Gavin exclaimed, dropping his things. He took off toward the house. “This is like Santa’s house!”

Sarah picked the abandoned overnight bag up and brushed it off. She extended it to me.

Taking the bag, I hiked it over my shoulder, adjusting my stance for the weight, feeling the pressure down my hip. How much was inside this thing? Did this kid pack bricks?

My sister turned to her daughter, slamming the car door shut. I had met Liana a few times before. Now, she was twice the size. Tall, with her dark hair twisted back into a complicated braid. She looked nearly identical to how I remembered my sister when we had been kids.

“Mom,” Liana moaned.

“I’ll be back in the morning,” my sister repeated to Liana.

She swept her daughter up in a big hug. After she pulled back, the little girl pressed her lips together. The look must’ve been genetic.

“Be good,” Sarah warned, then turned to look up at me. “You be good.”

“I’m nothing else,” I said.

Sarah glanced between me and the kids again as if she was already starting to regret her decision. “Keep them safe.”

“Here I thought, I was going to take them out bear hunting.”

“Aaron,” Sarah warned.

“Go.” I waved her toward her car as I turned around and headed for the cabin, where the other two kids had already hurtled inside.

With a short whistle behind my teeth, Oz was rushing toward me too.

Inside, the only positive was that the kids no longer had their shoes on as they fought over who was sitting where on the couch. And Gavin proved his screeches could ring to new heights. I swiped a hand down my face.

Oz looked up at me, sensing my unease.

I shook my head at him. “Don’t look at me.”

The kids might’ve been wild animals the way they ran rampant through the cabin. Gavin had a collision with one wall that made more of an impression on him than it did on the wall. Thank God. I couldn’t imagine what the homemaker would do if she came in and saw a dent.

Not that she should come in today.

She really shouldn’t come into the house today. Not with this mess or whatever else was bound to happen.

The two kids were watching some kind of video on the tablet Liana had pulled out from her duffel bag. Here I thought, with all the money and nannying, my sister would’ve raised polite, posh children, the kind you saw in expensive clothing ads.

Instead, I was dialing the last recent number on my phone in warning.

Poppy picked up on the second ring. “Hello? Aaron?”

Who else would it be? “You don’t have to bother with coming to the house today.”

There was a pause.

“I’m working today,” the homemaker countered. It wasn’t a question.

Why did she have to be so stubborn?

I put a hand to my head. “I know. I know you are.”

“What’s the problem?”

“You’re not going to get anything done here,” I told her.

“Why?”

I huffed. “Look. My sister dropped her kids here unexpectedly because her husband had some kind of family emergency. I have to take care of them. They’re a wreck. At this point, the place is going to be a wreck. I have no idea what I’m going to do with them, so might as well wait until I can clean up the damage.”

“Damage?” Poppy didn’t sound convinced. If anything, for some reason, she sounded … amused.

“Stay home. I’ll call you in the morning. Then, you can get back to work and stay on schedule. Right now, I need to figure out what I’m going to do with two kids that I barely know.”

“I’m not a kid!” Liana called out, hearing me talking on the phone.

I moved further into the kitchen, which looked bright and clean now that all the cabinets had knobs and empty spaces were filled with shiny appliances.

“Are you asking me for a favor, Aaron?” she asked.

Not Mr. Hayes. Somewhere in the past week, her professional pleasantries had faded, and I liked it more than I should’ve.

Aaron .

“No. I’m telling you to stay home. Do whatever you do when you’re not here,” I insisted. “Take the day off. Get a manicure. It’s fine. Everything will get done, but today, I have to deal with what is here. I’m sorry to let ya down, but this is what it is. Bye.”

“Aaron—”

I hung up the phone.

“I’m bored. Can I go outside? Are there animals out in the woods? What about lions? Can we build a snowman? Do you have any snacks?” Gavin asked at least a dozen questions at once.

I fought to find the answers.

Already, I stared at him as he befriended Oz.

The dog was curled up on the floor, letting my nephew—who I thought I’d met once shortly after he was born—scratch the space between his ears, not bothered by the bent, tattered one.

Oz blinked at me, as if saying, What did you expect me to do?

Traitor .

“Why is your house so empty? Don’t you have a Christmas tree yet? My mom put up our Christmas tree after Thanksgiving. Do you not celebrate Thanksgiving? Do you not celebrate Christmas?” Gavin let his mouth drop open in shock.

“I celebrate Thanksgiving.” Sort of.

I couldn’t quite remember the last time I’d had a proper Thanksgiving like I was sure he was thinking about. Everyone at a table, talking and stuffing themselves with turkey and potatoes.

“Why weren’t you eating with us then? My mom said that you’re family. Doesn’t family come to Thanksgiving? Even my aunt Portia comes to dinner sometimes. She brought puffy-looking orange flowers.”

I smirked at the way Gavin said Portia, like Porta . I didn’t know who the hell Portia was. I hadn’t known that Sarah’s husband, Nathan, had a living aunt either.

“I wasn’t around,” I said.

“Oh,” said Gavin. “Where were you?”

“Uh …” I glanced around the cabin. I doubted my sister wanted her impressionable son to know that his uncle was recovering from nearly being blown up. “Away.”

That seemed to satisfy him enough. But he had a point about snacks. Soon enough, they were going to get hungry. I ate out most of the time and not three meals a day, like I was sure they were used to getting at home with my sister and her likely all-natural, organic diet.

I was so out of my league here.

Liana continued to tap away at some game on her tablet.

She didn’t look up, glued to the screen.

The doorbell rang with a calm yet insistent chime.

“What the …” I made my way toward the door.

No one was supposed to be here today.

The final shipment of furniture should be here tomorrow or the next day. The chairs by the bookshelves held the loose paperbacks that had previously been hidden at the bottom of my closet. The dining table would also arrive, so the homemaker could do whatever she wanted to make it look like the place had come out of a Martha Stewart holiday collection.

Not today.

Running a hand through my hair, starting at my forehead, I swung open the front door to tell whoever it was to go back and check their schedules.

The homemaker blinked at me standing in front of her. She had her tote bag she always wore looped over her shoulder. In her hands, she held more than a few boxes.

“Poppy.” I looked at her and the way she grinned at me to form words. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

She adjusted herself to hold the stack of boxes in her hands better. “Sounded like you could use some help.”

“It’s fine,” I said stiffly, turning around. I knew she was going to follow me inside anyway. “I don’t need any help.”

“Oh.” There was a small slam of something falling to the ground. I forced myself not to flinch. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. You’re not going to be able to get any work done today with them here. They’ll be gone tomorrow, so you can come back then.”

“I see,” she said.

I didn’t think she did.

“They’re going to mess things up,” I told her.

She cocked her head as her brow creased.

“Houses are meant to be a little messed up,” Poppy said, patting me on the shoulder as she pushed past me into the living room. “That’s how you know they’re working.”