The Snowmaiden, A Bride for Krampus - Jeanette Lynn Page 0,6

the countless mistresses he’d probably holed away the hours doing god knows what with in here under the premise of a ‘business trip’.

There was silence on the other end for so long I pulled my phone from my ear to make sure the call was still connected.

“You won’t tell,” he said with utmost certainty.

He was right, I wouldn’t, but it wasn’t for his sake. “I’ll tell her if you don’t sell it.” My voice was silky smooth. He could go turn around and buy another hoochie hut for all that I cared, but to see what he’d done with this little piece of Mom, of what our family had once been so long ago I’d almost completely forgotten, he was shitting on my memories. A huge, get your freak on, those looked like restraints on that thickly padded chair in the corner, what the fuck my daddy’s a freak, dump on Mom’s memory.

“You bought this for her.” My throat hurt as the words croaked free.

Dad blew out a long breath. “Why do you think we bought it?” As my eyes widened and I made a face, because I so did not want to know that, he added, “We kept all the good stuff stored in the shed out back when we brought you kids there.”

As I sat there digesting this, glancing around at hints of things that made me want to fumigate, scrub, sanitize the entire place, I cringed inside and out. One does not need to know these things about their parents. Ever.

“Your mother knew about Bethany and I.” His voice softened into that same sad tone reserved for talking about his dead wife. He still missed her as much as we did. Bethany did not a Mom make.

Why did this not surprise me, to hear that she knew? “She wanted you to be happy,” I mumbled awkwardly. He wasn’t, but that was beside the point.

“She was worried. She wanted us all to be happy.” More of that fun pausing stuff. “There’s a box of ornaments you kids made with her in the cupboard with all the board games,” he admitted hesitantly. “The angel snow globe ornament she gave you is still in there.”

“Thanks.” What did one say to all of this?!

“I miss her.”

“Me- Ah- Me, too.” Ah, of course my voice chose now to crack.

“I can’t sell it, but I’ll stop, ah-”

“Don’t say it,” I barked, making him laugh. Argh. Ick. Nasty- Disgusting-

“I was thinking of giving it to you anyway…” He let the offer trail off.

“Is this before or after I burn everything inside of it but the family memories?” I asked blandly. And there was a peek of the old comradery, at the price of my silence for a slice of family memories tainted with yet more bullshit. Yay?

“What about Beau?” I pointed out.

“What about Beau?” A snort left him. “He’d just turn around and sell it for whatever he could and cut you out of it, if possible. If you have it, it’ll still be here.” With confidence, he added, “You’d keep it around. You could even write your next book in it.”

It would certainly be quiet, I admitted, if only to myself. With the haunting moans of my parents’ past sexcapades and his adulterous affairs of long past. Blech. Burning it to the ground after I’d picked out the few good memories was sounding better and better. The shed was getting lit first.

“I’ll pay to renovate it? Think of it as a Christmas present, from your daddy to you, huh?”

My forever single sanctuary. Sex den to nun hole. How lovely.

Let us address the heart of the issue first. “To keep me quiet.”

Again, the sound of silence sang to me. He couldn’t accept us into the fold, but he’d pay his children off to hold us at bay.

Our family put the F U in dysfunctional.

And because I was just as fucked up as the rest of them. “I want another room added on…”

“I’ll even have the trees around the cabin trimmed after first thaw!” He sounded so excited. It was doing nothing for my bitter, butt-hurt mood.

“Or… you could just tell the missus to accept me into the fold, we’ll all be on our best behavior, have a nice holiday with the kids, you’ll sell this cabin and we’ll never speak of this atrocity again?”

“Very funny.” He honest to god thought I was teasing.

My heart sank.

“You do like it, don’t you? Ah, that other stuff aside?”

“It’s perfect,” I lied, wondering if my nose was growing