sleigh was one of her favorite Christmas traditions.
“I’ll have cookies and cocoa waiting for you when you return,” her mother promised.
Everly couldn’t believe she’d missed Christmas with her family the year before because of work. At some point over the last few years she’d lost sight of her priorities. It’d been a gradual shift and had started in small ways, culminating with Christmas. She’d told herself heading to the farm for the holidays would be a distraction and she needed to focus on the business. It didn’t help that she felt like the odd man out most of the time. She was different from her siblings: her sense of drive, her need to excel and be the best. Like her father had often said, she had the middle-child syndrome. With everyone together in the same room, the noise level rivaled that of the cheering crowd at an NFL football game. Much of the time Everly felt that she was on the outside looking in rather than being involved. She wasn’t sure who was to blame and was beginning to think this feeling was more on her than the rest of the family. One thing she could never deny was the abundance of love. A love she was only now fully appreciating.
When suffering from the reaction to the mosquito bite, Everly had wanted her mother. It made her smile now. She was hurting so much from Asher’s rejection and felt relief to have her mother close, although she had no intention of mentioning him. She wasn’t looking for sympathy as much as comfort.
Everly carried her suitcase up the well-worn staircase to the bedroom she’d shared with her two sisters. Three single beds had been crammed into the larger of the two bedrooms, with barely enough space to maneuver between them. Each sister had one chest of drawers with a lone closet that they were forced to section off into thirds. The five kids were required to share the one bathroom. Jeff and John swore they learned to dance, waiting for their turn. She could laugh about it now, but at the time, juggling for privacy had been a festering thorn in her flesh. When she’d complained, her mother had insisted sharing with her siblings produced character. Perhaps it had and created other skills besides, like putting on her makeup in under five minutes.
As she walked down the stairs, she heard the back door open off the kitchen.
“Daisy, where are you?” Rose shouted. “Get your butt down here.”
Yup, her family wanted to be sure she felt welcomed. Everly couldn’t remember the last time her oldest sister had shown any real enthusiasm at her visits. Everly left her room and came down the steps. She didn’t have a chance to breathe before her sister grabbed her into a bear hug. “Missed you, girl.”
Everly hugged her back.
Rose, her sister, the hairstylist, held her at arm’s length. “Hmm,” she said carefully, studying Everly. “When was the last time you had a haircut?”
Everly grinned. “It’s been a while.”
“You’re telling me! We’re sitting you in my chair. Be ready when I call you. I’m taking scissors to that mop you’ve got going on.”
“Okay, okay,” Everly said, sighing. No way was she telling her sister she’d spent a hundred dollars for this haircut a short week before leaving for Brazil.
The three women dished up the pot roast, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, and coleslaw and set it on the table while Rose’s husband, Stan, and her father talked local politics. Russell and little Rosie played with Jasper, who lovingly ate up the attention.
Conversation over the dinner table rarely lagged while she was a kid, and that hadn’t changed. Questions flew at her about her time in South America. Knowing her dad would enjoy hearing about her fishing for piranha, she went into detail about how fiercely the fish fought. She didn’t mention taking a tumble into the Amazon River. Both her father and brother-in-law were suitably impressed.
“Aunt Daisy, Aunt Daisy,” Russell said, vying for her attention. “How did the piranha taste?”
She looked toward her young nephew. “It was good eating.”
“Did you swallow any teeth?”
“Nope, but those teeth were scary-looking.” Reaching for her phone, she brought up a photo Asher had shared with her, revealing the piranha with its mouth open and dominated by huge rows of teeth. When she passed the photo to the nine-year-old, his eyes got as big as dinner plates.
“Dad,” he cried, “look.” He glanced toward Everly. “Aunt Daisy, do you think you