A Texas Christmas Wish. Jolene Navarro
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I’ll take the purple monster to the laundry room.”
Karly went to one of her boxes and dug out a spiral notebook and her green pen.
Lists—she liked making lists, organizing the things she had to do, learn and schedule.
She also needed to make a plan in case the worst happened and she lost this job. She’d been afraid of that earlier, when Tyler said they’d needed to talk. Pray for the best but prepare for the worst. So far the worst seemed to follow her around, but it was time for a change.
Eyes closed, she took a deep breath and centered herself with God. He put her here. He would give her the tools she needed to make this work.
* * *
In the laundry room, Tyler started the washing machine and stuffed the old comforter into the hot water. He rubbed the palms of his hands deep into his eye sockets. How did someone not have any family? There had been days when he thought life would be easier without one. But if he truly thought about it, he wouldn’t know who he was without his parents and sister.
He hoped taking Carol’s things out of her room wouldn’t upset his dad. Why did he want to act as if she would be coming back? The muscles around his chest tightened.
Running both of his hands through his hair, he filled his lungs and let the air out with a harsh sigh. He walked back through his mother’s kitchen to his sister’s room.
His dad was so stubborn. The whole house looked exactly the same as the day his mom died. Dub Childress was a stubborn fool, but he always got what he wanted. He always won.
Well, Dad, you can’t beat death. Mom and Carol are gone and they aren’t coming back.
He walked right past Carol’s room, his old room, and straight to his dad’s. Stepping through the door, he leaned his weight against the door frame. The hard, breathing bump in the hospital bed was his dad. They had a chance to get this right. Tyler wasn’t going anywhere until he knew his dad would be walking, talking and laughing again.
His family had been hit hard; first they’d lost his mom, then Carol. When was the last time he’d heard his dad’s laugh?
The ranch was too much for him alone. He had to convince the old man to retire, maybe even sell the place. First, he had to make sure his dad had the care he needed.
He walked over to the edge of the practical steel-framed bed and noticed his father had kicked one foot out from under the covers. He had always hated being completely covered, insisting he needed air.
Tyler shook his head. The edge of the bed gave under his weight as he sat next to his dad. He thought of all the nights his dad had tucked him in after saying their nightly prayers. With his left hand he reached for his father’s shoulder. He didn’t remember the last time he even tried to talk to God. “God, Dub has been a faithful servant to You. He did the best he could with a son that wouldn’t listen. Give me a chance to make this right. Amen.” He leaned over and kissed the side of his father’s forehead. “I’m here, Dad. Together we will get through this and you’ll be as good as old.”
With a nod to his sleeping father, he turned and made his way to the other problem he had to figure out. Karly and Bryce.
Stopping at his sister’s door, Tyler took in the small changes in the room. Karly sat in the window seat, just like Carol. But the similarity stopped there. Where his sister had charged into the world with a fearless walk, Karly’s movement reminded him of a cat his mom had once rescued, slow and cautious, wary of strangers.
With long, graceful fingers she tucked a lose strand behind her ear and wrote in a notebook. He moved to the walls cluttered with Carol’s memories and dreams and started taking down a framed collage of photos.
He knew it was irrational, but a drive to get the stuff of his sister’s life off the walls and put away had taken hold of him. Why had his dad left this room untouched for so long? It was just another reminder of the conversations that would never happen.
Karly left the window seat. “What are you doing? I thought you said we needed to talk.”
“We do, but you don’t want to look at pictures of someone else’s memories. I was going to put them in the garage for now.”
She smiled at him. “I don’t mind.”
He doubted that, and raised one eyebrow.
“Really.” Stepping closer, Karly ran her fingertips over a group of pictures from pep rallies and school dances. “Growing up, I moved a great deal. I love your sister’s pictures. Maybe I could put them in an album for her daughters. Have they seen the pictures?”
“I’m sure Rachel did when she was smaller, but I don’t think Celeste has ever been in here.” He scanned the room. “We should at least pack the mums away.”
Her full lips turned up at the corners. He saw a gleam in her dark eyes. “Leave them for now. I really find them fascinating. Where did the idea of a huge flower and tons of ribbon and glitter come from anyway? While we were in Dallas, we went to a homecoming game. The flowers were so pretty with all the bells and glitter. I imagined getting one from a secret admirer. Of course, I never did.”
He was getting the feeling her childhood was in stark contrast to his sister’s experiences. Or she was just sharing those anecdotes to get his sympathy. Wouldn’t be the first time, so why did it seem to be working tonight? “If you don’t want to take anything else down, let’s go to the living room. We can discuss what you will be doing and what my father needs.” With one last look at Carol’s celebrations he walked out, not checking to see if his dad’s new project followed.
* * *
Karly stopped herself from pulling on her earrings. She needed to trust God, not fret over Tyler and his motives. “Sure.” She made an effort to smile at him as she picked up her notebook and tucked her pen into the spiral.
There was more to Tyler Childress than the local gossip talked about. Details missing that would make him a whole person. The way he reacted to Bryce told her he had some experience with kids—kids with differences. But she had a bad habit of seeing the good in the worst guys. Tyler was pulling on all those old heartstrings. The ones she should not trust.
Walking back through the hall, she smiled at the name. The Hall of Mortification, Carol had called it. She couldn’t imagine growing up in a town that knew your grandparents, a town where you belonged, even if they remembered all your mistakes.
Plaques lined the walls. She tried to picture the life that collected these awards: homecoming court, rodeo queen, football captain, basketball tournament MVP, valedictorian, even honors for choir and grass judging.
Who knew you could win a state championship by knowing grasses? The wall carried on in an endless line of best of this and that. Carol’s name seemed to be on most of them, accomplishments that surpassed her own childhood fantasies. These were the kind of growing-up years she wanted for Bryce. He might not be able to play sports, but once he recovered from the surgeries for his foot, he could have a school and friends and be involved in so many things.
The awards pointed to a bright future that had been cut short. Tyler had lost his mom and sister, but he seemed to forget he still had a dad and a home where he belonged.
Passing through the kitchen, she walked into the front living room. It screamed Texas ranch. The leather sofa and chairs were just the beginning. Everything else was made from wrought iron and antlers, including the huge square coffee table and all the lamps. Area rugs of assorted cowhide warmed the stone floor.
Tyler stood in front of the biggest stone fireplace she had ever seen. Over the rough wood mantel hung a painted portrait. Six people, three generations, all wearing white shirts and jeans, stood in front of the cypress trees that lined the Frio River.
She