I am something of a sentimentalist about Christmas. I'll try to keep it from getting too sticky.
Also, before you panic about the first section, read on. Clyde's a creative guy. ;)
Rey stared at her phone screen. For a long moment, she was unable to form a coherent thought.
He wants me…to come for Christmas?
Stunned delight crashed over her. Vague images spun through Rey's head, that faraway state in winter colors, the lights of a Christmas tree, music and Mellie and most of all Clyde - to see him again -
- And then it burst like a bubble.
She couldn't possibly spare that much time. Rey had Christmas off, but she was scheduled at the shop and the grocery the day before, and the store the day after. And even if she could get out of that - and risk being fired - Rey knew she couldn't fly without an official ID.
The realization stung sharply, but beneath it Rey's heart swelled with a sweeter pain.
She was wanted.
Her eyes watered, and Rey wiped them hastily, but a quick glance around told her that no one on the bus had noticed. She typed out a laborious reply, wishing she could send a letter but not wanting to make Clyde wait - I would love to, but they won't let me on a plane without ID. And I have to work.
But thank you for asking me!
She flipped her phone shut and tucked it away, wishing with all her heart that she could.
Normally Rey drowsed on the bus; she'd learned the particular sequence of turns and lurches that told her she was nearing her stops, and could wake in time to get off at the right one. But she couldn't get the image out of her head. She could have seen Mellie, too, and maybe even met Jimmy and his daughter - the little family that was so important to Clyde.
She sighed, and leaned her head against the window until the vibrations of the engine made it too uncomfortable to continue.
When she reached the auto shop, it was closed for the night, but the Ticos had given her a key to the gate padlock as well as to the shop itself, and Rey slipped inside, carefully re-locking it behind her.
She did the same at the shop, using the little bathroom and detouring past the counter to see if there was any mail for her. On days when she wasn't working at the shop, whichever sister accepted the mail would leave Clyde's letters for her there. Rey wasn't expecting one yet, but it never hurt to check - and in fact there was an envelope waiting, though when she scooped it up Rey saw it wasn't from Clyde.
It was from Eunice.
Her breath caught. Rey waited until she was out of the building to open it - there wasn't enough light to read it inside - and the harsh light of the streetlights made the printed text almost swim in her gaze.
Dear Rey, it read. Of course I remember you! I looked up your records in the old files - they aren't computerized that far back - but unfortunately there is no real information. Your last name is listed as Kanata, even though Miss Maz never had official guardianship, and the Social Security number is clearly a dummy.
I don't know who did your intake - that was years before I was hired - but my guess is that they didn't want to turn you away. Or that they were unwilling to defy Miss Maz, for which I do not blame them.
I'm sorry I can't provide more information. I'm glad to know that you have found someplace to go, and I wish you all the best.
Marisol Islas, Secretary, Eunice K-12
Rey stared blankly at the page.
Well, fuck.
She hadn't let herself hope, exactly, but the news that there was nothing still felt like a blow. You're no worse off, she told herself, but weariness seemed to rush over her, and even the bittersweet glow of Clyde's invitation faded.
Nothing to do but wait until January, I guess. She folded the letter back into the envelope and headed for the camper. Rey climbed slowly inside and closed the door, locking it carefully behind her with the deadbolt she'd installed herself. The little space was much improved from its original shambles, though it was bare of almost everything and needed a new coat of paint; but she was too exhausted to feel much more than a faint thrill of pride as she stripped off coat and shoes and sank onto the little bench seat. It was cold in the camper, but Rey flipped on the tiny space heater - bought with some of the money West had left her - and she knew it would warm quickly. The Tico sisters had allowed her to hook into the shop's power, once Rey had verified that the camper's wiring was still good, and while electricity was the only thing that worked yet, it was enough.
The trouble was that Rey rarely had time to work on repairs to the camper; between three jobs and the travel needed to reach them, she had little time to spare, and most of that was needed for resting or chores like laundry.
She sighed and rummaged in the nearest cabinet for the store-brand cereal she kept there, eating it straight from the bag; she had yet to get the little fridge to run, and anyway milk was expensive.
There's still most of that thousand dollars, her hunger whispered, but Rey's practical side knew better than to give in. She needed to hoard that money against the day when she got the flu, or broke her arm, or lost her job at the auto shop. She'd already spent more than she liked on necessities like the heater and a pair of sneakers - her own had deteriorated beyond repair, and nothing at the thrift store had been in her size.
It's just so hard to stay afloat.
Rey had anticipated the difficulty long before she'd fled Eunice. You're lucky, she told herself. You've got a safe place to stay that you aren't even paying rent for. And you're free.
As her hunger was quelled, Rey's mood improved, and she folded the bag up and replaced it, fishing her water bottle from her pack and taking a drink. She still gloated a little when she looked around her new space - not so new after six weeks, but still a delight.
Sooner or later I'll get the fridge to work, and I can get an electric kettle. Maybe even a microwave if the thrift store has one that's cheap enough. That store was her new best friend; she'd bought a set of tableware, a dishpan for washing in, a pack of socks without holes.
The little space was quickly reaching a cozy warmth. Rey grabbed a couple of milk jugs she'd scavenged and washed, and ducked back outside; she had permission to use the auto shop's spigot, and it didn't take long to fill them.
She poured one out into the dishpan and stripped down, washing quickly and shivering despite the space heater. When I get that kettle I'll have hot water for washing.
Her mattress was padded with blankets she'd found in a Dumpster, still in their plastic wrappings - a rare haul. Rey pulled on an old shirt and dove into bed, flicking off the light and the heater before burrowing into the softness.
It had been a strange, strange four months for someone who'd rarely seen anything beyond the bounds of Eunice. Sometimes her former life seemed years away. And while Rey had made friends, and savored her freedom, survival was hard.
But I'm going to make it. This is just the start.
Rey rolled over and shoved a hand out of the blankets. Between the mattress and the wall was wedged a thin bundle of paper that her fingertips could find even in the dark- Clyde's letters.
They were the bright thread that held even her worst days together. Written on printer paper in ballpoint pen, they all had faint indentations on the top corners that had puzzled Rey until she'd realized they were where Clyde had kept the paper still with his prosthesis.
She wrote back on cheap notebook paper, scribbling on the wide lines like a fourth-grader; she'd gotten better at correspondence, but it still took some effort to say what she meant to.
Not that Rey minded. Writing back wasn't just a way of holding a conversation, much as she enjoyed it; it was a reminder that she was more than the life she was leading, more than a small and unimportant cog in the underpinnings of Seattle's vastness.
And it kept West close to her, alive in a way that a memory could not. Rey knew she could have said goodbye and gone on with her life; she would have been sad, but the loss would have been bearable. Instead - for the very first time - she had not been left behind. Not truly.
Yes, Clyde had gone home. But with every letter, every email, even the occasional phone call, he was still there. She was not abandoned.
Rey wasn't sure why she kept them in such an odd location, except that she liked to reach out and touch them, even in the dark. She loved getting emails from Mellie, sure, but those weren't real in the same way, stored on her phone. Letters were tangible; West had sat down and put his thoughts on the paper one word at a time, then folded it up, sealed it, and mailed it to her.
Rey had nothing from her parents but her name. The few mementos she'd had of Maz were gone, through random accident or Plutt's malice; and Luis had never written at all. West's letters were a reminder, a touchstone.
And more - they were proof that she was worth the effort. That his kindness wasn't just a passing thing, a favor returned - it was a connection.
Rey had no illusions about the people she'd met in Seattle. She could quit her jobs and be replaced within a day, and forgotten within a week. Paige and Rose were friendly as well as kind, but she was first and foremost their employee; they might be sorry to lose her, but they could hire another mechanic almost at once, and a legal, certified one at that.
Though maybe not one as good.
Rey didn't let it bother her. She was grateful to the Ticos, but it was no burden, because she knew she did good work - in fact, she was worth more than they could pay her under the table. She was learning her new city bit by bit, even if most of what she saw was through a bus window.
Rey curled her fingers in between the mattress and the letters, and closed her eyes, savoring the fading glow of the invitation she couldn't accept.
I'm going to make it.
"Are you sure about this?" Jimmy's brow furrowed as he watched Clyde click through Web pages on his laptop. "I know you want to see Rey again, and God knows she deserves a good holiday, but we ain't never spent a Christmas apart since Momma died. It's a family day."
Clyde gave his brother a patient glare. "And Rey ain't got no family at all, Jimmy. She ain't even had a Christmas since she was a little girl. I aim to fix that. You know I owe her."
Jimmy sighed, a harassed sound, and Clyde's mouth tightened. "You know how she plans to spend the first Christmas she's free? Eatin' stale cake all by herself and takin' a nap. How is that right?"
Jimmy rubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah, okay, but why can't she come here then? I know Sadie would love to meet her."
"No ID. Can't fly without one." And he was still kicking himself for missing that when he'd made the suggestion, but hell, he couldn't think of everything. "And before you suggest I go pick her up, she can't take that much time off."
"I suppose not." Jimmy's eyes were dark and wistful, and Clyde ignored them studiously. He was not going to give into his brother's blandishments. He was genuinely sorry to miss spending the holiday with them, especially when it was Jimmy's turn to have Sadie, but -
But this was more important. That was an uncomfortable thought, and Clyde pushed it down for the moment, studying plane tickets instead. "I'll be back by New Year's, we can all go see the fireworks like usual."
"Mmm." Jimmy came around Clyde's kitchen table to peer over Clyde's shoulder; the ad at the top of the hotel site was showing the Ferris wheel on the Seattle docks, and it seemed to catch Jimmy's attention. "You know…"
Clyde felt his shoulders rising towards his ears. "What," he said flatly.
"I bet they have fireworks out there too on New Year's Eve. They'd look mighty pretty over the water, don't you think?"
It was not a question that required a reply. Clyde swiveled around to stare at his brother. "What are you gettin' at?"
Jimmy gave him the grin that always meant trouble and backed away, reaching for the landline phone that sat on the kitchen counter. "Just a sec."
Clyde considered trying to take it away from him, and decided that wasn't how he wanted to spend his security deposit. Jimmy's thumb flew over the keypad, and he lifted the receiver to his ear, obviously waiting for the other end to pick up. After long enough that it had to be going to voice mail, he cleared his throat. "Hey Mellie, call Clyde when you have a minute, will you? We got a proposition for you."
He clicked the off button as Clyde narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"
Jimmy's look was amused. "Not a damned thing."
He wandered out into the apartment's little living room, collapsing onto the couch and scooping up the remote. Clyde shook his head and went back to looking at hotel sites; Jimmy in this mood was immovable.
It had become a bit of a routine, one of them going to visit the other every other weekend, with Mellie often driving over to Charlottesville on their off weeks. Clyde reflected wryly that he was actually seeing more of his siblings than he had when things were normal; but it wasn't a bad thing. He might not admit it out loud, but just spending time with them, taking it easy, was helping him keep an even keel. None of them would talk about it, of course; but they didn't have to.
Clyde knew that families came in all shapes and sizes, not all of them good by any means. It just made him doubly grateful for his.
His phone buzzed, and he scooped it up, hardly having to glance at the display to see who it was. "Hey Mel."
"What's he got in his head this time?" Mellie sounded mildly exasperated, and Clyde rolled his eyes.
"Don't ask me." Jimmy was already lumbering back into the kitchen, and Clyde hit the speaker icon on his phone. "This had better not be another cauliflower."
"I am hurt by your lack of faith in me." Jimmy gave him a mock-wounded look and sat down at the table. "Mellie, how'd you like to spend Christmas in Seattle?"
Clyde sputtered. "What?"
"Oh, now, that sounds like a good time." Mellie's grin was all but visible. "I kind of got a taste for travel, might as well indulge it."
"I'm thinking maybe a week or so," Jimmy said. "Say, Christmas Eve through New Year's?"
"Tickets won't be cheap," Mellie said thoughtfully.
Jimmy snorted. "Not like we can't afford it." He looked at Clyde, eyes bright. "Whatcha say, little brother?"
And part of Clyde was outraged at this sudden intrusion in his private business, this precious thing he had with the woman whose simple kindness had just about saved his life; but the rest of him was fastening onto the idea, of not having to leave them behind.
Mellie likes Rey already, and it's mutual; no reason Jimmy won't like her too.
And didn't Rey deserve as much celebration as they could give her?
He blew out a breath. "Why not."
Rey contemplated the array of choices before her with the seriousness they deserved. Lined up on her camper's little stovetop, they each offered temptation; the question was, which one would go first?
She reached out, hesitated, and then nodded decisively. Cookies it is.
The blue lid yielded to her fingernails easily despite its dents, and Rey drew in a luxurious breath laden with the rich smell of sugar and butter. She selected one cookie almost at random and stuffed it whole into her mouth, unwilling to waste a crumb.
It was Christmas Eve, and she was finally through with work. Rey had the next day and a half off, and while she was on the edge of exhaustion, she also had cookies, a can of pricey mixed nuts, and a box of chocolates - and cake for tomorrow. The cookies and the nuts had come from the grocery store, too banged up to sell; the chocolates were from the Tico sisters, who gave them out to all their employees every Christmas.
Rey knew she should hoard the treats, parcel them out carefully over time; that would be the sensible thing to do, saving calories for when she didn't have enough. But some stubborn part of her wanted to celebrate. It was her first Christmas since Maz had died; Rey wanted to make it worthwhile. She was saving the tealights for Christmas Day, but the food was right there.
She'd eaten the contents of one little paper sleeve and half of another, and was eyeing the nuts, when her phone rang. Puzzled, Rey reached for where she'd tossed it on her mattress. If it's the store wanting me to take that Christmas shift, I'm going to say no, extra pay or not.
But the number made her squeak in surprise. Rey fumbled to open the phone, almost dropping it in her haste. "Clyde, hello!"
"Hey, there." His voice was wonderfully familiar. "How you doing?"
Rey laughed. "I'm good, how are you? Is everything okay?"
"Oh, fine, fine." He cleared his throat. "Listen, I got a bit of a surprise for you. For the holiday an' such."
Rey blinked. "You do?"
"Yep. You're at home, right?"
"Yeah?" Rey felt her brows going up in puzzlement.
"Go outside for a minute then, would you?" There was something odd in his voice, but Rey couldn't pin it down.
"Outside?" Automatically she glanced at the window, but the paper she'd covered it with blocked her view.
"Yeah, just for a minute. Please?"
"Ooookay." It was definitely a weird request. But it was Clyde asking; so Rey shrugged back into her coat, grabbed her keys, and opened the camper door, holding the phone to her ear. "What am I looking for?"
The door faced the back of the lot, so what she could see was a fence and then the back of the next building.
"Well, you'd better look around to find out, hadn't you?" She had it now; he sounded amused.
Baffled, slightly annoyed, slightly amused herself, Rey rolled her eyes. "All right then."
It was just past sunset, so the sky was still light in the west, but twilight veiled the street. The streetlights were on, sharpening shadows in the lot but offering enough to see by. Rey saw nothing unusual as she stepped away from the camper, so she walked around it, wondering what on earth Clyde was talking about.
The lot was empty and swept clean, as usual; nothing was out of place. Rey frowned; and then something moved just outside the gate, and her mouth dropped open.
"Merry Christmas," Clyde said in her ear, pleased and a bit sheepish. He lifted his prosthesis and pressed it against the gate. "Thought I'd stop by, since you couldn't make it."
Rey made an incomprehensible sound and bolted forward, scarcely remembering to snap her phone closed before she shoved it in her pocket. Clyde was grinning at her, that rare full grin, and Rey found herself laughing as she reached the gate.
It took only a few seconds to open the padlock and pull back the gate, and then Clyde's arms were wrapping around her in the warm hug she'd somehow missed even though she'd only experienced it a few times. Rey hugged him back hard, joy ratcheting up inside her until she felt as if she were going to burst.
Even through their coats, he was warm, and solid; and yet he almost felt like a dream, as if Rey had fallen asleep over her cookies and was dreaming the impossible. Her throat felt tight; it took an effort to force out the words, half-smeared into his shoulder. "You came for Christmas?"
His palm cupped the back of her head, and she could feel his voice vibrating under her hands. "Yep, and a bit more."
It was another effort to loosen her grip enough to look at him. Clyde was still smiling, though with an edge of shyness. "I know you got to work, but if you like I can stick around through New Year's."
Rey laughed; it was a little shaky, but she couldn't stop smiling. He came to spend Christmas with me? "You can stay as long as you want."
"Good." He cleared his throat and let her go. "Here's the thing though. I, uh, I ain't alone."
Rey squinted at him. "Sorry?"
He rubbed his hand over the back of his head. "Jimmy got wind of what I was plannin', and he called Mellie, and next thing I know they were comin' along. I couldn't stop 'em."
His cheeks were pink, and his accent had thickened. "Your family came with you?" Rey looked around, but the street was empty.
"They're at the hotel. Look, I know this is all unexpected, an' if you ain't comfortable with - "
He was almost babbling. Rey reached out, laying her hand on his chest, right over the zipper of his jacket. "West, it's okay. I'd love to see them."
And it was true; she was still dizzied by his sudden appearance, but Rey wasn't going to pass up the chance to see Mellie again - and anyway she'd been curious about his brother ever since Mellie had first mentioned him.
He blew out a breath. "Okay then." His hand covered hers, hot against her chilled fingers, and squeezed gently. "We got a suite, and Mellie says you're invited to stay overnight if you want. If you don't mind sharin' with Sadie and her."
"Sadie came too?" Rey felt her smile widen. "That's great! Yes, okay, that sounds amazing." It was one thing to let someone pay for a room for her, but if they had one already - "Just - just give me a minute - "
"Take as long as you want." Clyde squeezed her hand again and let it go. "Don't forget your gloves though."
His mustache was twitching, and Rey made a face at him as she slipped through the gate, half-running back to her camper.
Her hands shook a little as she gathered up two spare sets of clothes, grateful now that she'd spent the money on a laundromat run rather than hand-washing her jeans again; they took days to dry that way. Toothbrush, comb - where'd I put the lotion -
It all went into her pack. Rey looked around, and on impulse crammed in the box of chocolates as well, not wanting to go empty-handed to whatever the Logans had in mind.
The whole thing seemed unreal, and Rey tied her pack shut hurriedly, still feeling as though she were going to wake up any minute. Gloves, hah.
They were work gloves, not winter gloves, and they were hanging up to dry. Rey ignored them and took a deep breath, trying to settle herself before pushing the door open again.
Clyde was right where she'd left him, waiting politely outside the gate even though she hadn't closed it. Rey locked the padlock and made a mental note to text the Ticos and let them know she wasn't there, just in case. "All set," she told Clyde, turning.
"Let's go then." He held out his hand; and it was natural, somehow, to take it, to let him lead her across the street to a little car parked at the curb.
At the sight of it, Rey burst out laughing. "Do you even fit in that?"
Clyde chuckled, releasing her hand and fishing the key fob from his pocket. "Hey now, you can run this thing for a week on what the Pontiac takes to go to the corner store." He beeped the Prius unlocked, and Rey, still laughing, rounded the hood to open the passenger door and climb in.
He could barely take his eyes off of her. The Prius was a lot smaller than his Pontiac, softer, quieter, and yet it all felt so familiar - Rey next to him again, brightening the darkness with her presence. Clyde still wasn't entirely sanguine about his idea being turned into a family event, but it was hard to care when Rey looked so excited.
She chattered about her jobs and asked him about his as he drove to the hotel; she sounded pleased about hers, but to Clyde it sounded awfully close to overwork, working two and occasionally three shifts in a day, and one of them outdoors. But he wasn't going to say anything, not then. It wasn't any of his business - and anyway Christmas was supposed to be a happy time.
The sight of the hotel made Rey's eyes go wide, and Clyde spoke up before she could say anything. "Bit much, ain't it? You know Mellie, though."
Rey shot him a wry look, shoulders relaxing a trifle. "Are you sure they'll let me in?"
"If they won't, we'll run off and find a nice Motel 6." Clyde bypassed the valet stand and drove into the general lot.
"That would work," she agreed gravely. "At least until Mellie noticed we were missing."
"Yep." He found a space and shut off the car, reaching back to snag Rey's pack before she could. "I got this."
She wavered for a moment, as if to argue, then gave way, stuffing her hands nervously into her coat pockets. Clyde shouldered the pack, and they made their way inside.
The place was dressed up for the holiday in what Clyde supposed was elegant decorations, all white and silver and blue; to him it looked cold, like the hotel was trying to make it look frozen indoors. But they went through the big lobby with no one giving them more than a glance despite Rey's shabby clothes.
It might have had something to do with the glare Clyde had cast around while Rey was absorbed in the sights, but he couldn't swear to it. Still, no one met his eyes for longer than a second, and he was satisfied.
The elevator shot them up almost fast enough to make him dizzy. Rey hadn't said a word since they'd got inside, and Clyde shifted from foot to foot. "You okay?"
She bit her lip. "Yeah…I'm just…I think I'm still stunned that you're here." Her expression was worried. "I - you know, I haven't been to a party since I was a kid."
"Well, this one ain't formal." Clyde tried to figure out the words to reassure her. "Jimmy and Sadie are real excited to meet you."
Rey blinked. "Really?"
"Yep." The elevator stopped and they stepped out into a plush hallway. Clyde guided her down a few doors, thumping his fist on the door rather than fishing out the keycard.
It flew open a few seconds later. "You was supposed to text," Mellie scolded, grinning hugely. "Rey!"
His sister enveloped Rey in a hug, enthusiastically returned. "It's so good to see you," Rey said, eyes squeezed shut, and Mellie giggled.
"Thought we'd surprise you." She released Rey. "C'mon in!"
The suite was pretty nice, Clyde had to admit that - two bedrooms with two beds each and bathrooms attached, a big central living-type room, and a little space with a dining table and chairs and a sort of bar with a sink and microwave. When they'd arrived, it was a normal hotel space, nicely decorated but bland.
Mellie had barely given them time to clean up after their flight, sending Clyde and Jimmy out with a grocery list and taking Sadie on her own shopping run. Clyde hadn't been back since; and in the time he'd been gone, the place had been transformed into a golden-glowing holiday.
Somehow Mellie had managed not only a tree sparking with lights, but garlands along the walls wound with their own lights, Christmas music playing from the sound system, and big candles here and there. Clyde even recognized familiar table ornaments placed around the room; Mellie must have brought them from home, old treasures inherited from their parents.
Rey advanced into the room, eyes wide. "This is amazing! I haven't seen anything like this in years."
Mellie beamed. "It does look nice, don't it? I mean, Christmas is Christmas no matter what, but it is nice to have it look like it."
"Is she here?" Sadie bounced out of the bedroom that had been designated the "girls' room", the pompom on the end of her Santa hat bobbling back and forth. "Daddy! She's here!"
"Keep it down, Sadie-Bug," Jimmy said, sounding amused as he followed her out. "We don't want to scare her off or nothin'."
"Rey, this here's my brother Jimmy an' his daughter Sadie," Clyde said, managing not to roll his eyes.
"Merry Christmas, Miss Rey," Sadie said, holding out her hand with perfect politeness, and Rey smiled and shook it.
"Merry Christmas! It's nice to meet you, Miss Sadie. Clyde's told me a lot about you."
"He's the best uncle," Sadie said confidingly, making Clyde's ears heat. "I'm glad you found him."
Rey shot him a look, a dimple forming in her cheek. "Me too."
Clyde cleared his throat, but before he could gather words Jimmy stepped up next to his daughter, offering his most charming grin along with his hand. "Glad to meet you at last, Miss Rey. I gotta thank you for looking after my little brother."
She shook her head. "It - it was definitely mutual."
Jimmy laughed. "Only fair."
"Are you from England?" Sadie asked as Rey drew back her hand, looking up with bright eyes and ignoring Mellie's Sadie, that ain't polite.
Rey shrugged, not looking particularly upset. "I don't know. I guess my parents were."
Jimmy's hand descended on his daughter's shoulder, squeezing gently. "No rude questions, okay?" he said mildly. "Why don't you show Miss Rey where she'll be staying with you tonight?"
Not at all cowed, Sadie grinned. "It's over here," she said, gesturing, and Rey turned to Clyde.
"Can I have my pack please?" She was still smiling, and a warm pulse of satisfaction ran through him. If she was pleased, she would stay.
He swung it off his shoulder and handed it to her, and the two disappeared into the other room. Mellie propped her hands on her hips.
"That girl is too thin again," she said, keeping her voice low. "We'll have to do somethin' about that."
Jimmy shot Clyde a look. "Is she gonna meddle?"
"She's a Logan. What do you think?" Amused, Clyde turned slowly in a circle, taking in the decorations again. "Looks real nice, Mellie."
"It had better." She looked pleased. "Has she had supper yet, Clyde?"
"Don't think so." In fact, judging by the boniness of Rey's wrists and the way her cheekbones stood out, Clyde suspected that wasn't the only meal she'd missed lately. The notion made him quietly angry, but he couldn't see an immediate solution, aside from making sure she ate while she was with them.
"Good, then we can go out. Twenty minutes - you two go change, I know you packed nice clothes."
Jimmy whined, and Mellie flicked a hand at him. "The suit's for church, just get out of that ratty t-shirt!"
Clyde snickered and nudged Jimmy's shoulder. "C'mon, no point in arguin'."
"Why did we let her run this thing again?" Jimmy followed Clyde into their room, which had two beds larger than the one in Clyde's trailer; perhaps fortunately for their sleep patterns, Mellie hadn't decorated there too.
"You tell me, it was your idea to call her." He'd hung his clothes up in the closet earlier, for ease of access; Clyde rummaged through the short row for a fresh undershirt and started unbuttoning his flannel.
It didn't take them twenty minutes to change, even when Clyde ducked into the bathroom to run a comb through his hair. He should have been tired, he knew, coming off a six-hour plane ride and it being three hours later for him than Seattle's time, but instead he felt a slow-bubbling delight.
"She's pretty cute," Jimmy said when Clyde emerged; he was fussing with the sleeves of the dark pullover Mellie had given him for his birthday. "Smart, too, huh?"
"Seems so," Clyde returned dryly, slipping his button-down shirt over his prosthesis. He knew better than to rise to the bait in Jimmy's voice.
"Hm." Jimmy eyed him, then nodded, as if to himself.
The living room was empty when they returned to it, but they didn't have to wait long; Sadie came out first, minus the Santa hat but wearing a necklace of miniature Christmas lights that actually lit up. She was all but dancing, and Clyde wondered idly just how much chocolate she'd had that afternoon.
But then, one of the benefits of being an uncle was that it was Jimmy's problem.
Mellie and Rey emerged together, laughing, and Clyde blinked at the sight. Rey was still wearing her worn jeans, but in place of her shirt was one of Mellie's close-fitting sweaters in a deep green that made her seem to glow a little. Her hair was down from its usual ponytail, but someone - Clyde suspected Mellie - had drawn a little of it into a thin braid at the back of her head, tied off with a sparkly elastic. Her face was lit with excitement, and the dimple was in full evidence.
It wasn't that much of a change, but it came to Clyde that this was how Rey should always look - carefree and cared for, not worn by work and worry.
For an instant a crazy daydream ran through his head, of Rey with them back in their home town - hanging out with Mellie, sitting on a stool in Duct Tape, curled up on his battered couch reading and then breaking off to talk about books with him.
There's nothing there for her, he reminded himself. Not enough jobs for the people who already live there, no reason for her to plant herself in a backwater little town. Rey had potential; moving somewhere where the nearest college was forty miles away, and a community college at that, would do her no good.
He shut it away with a pang, and focused on getting them all out of the room and down to the parking garage and the SUV Mellie had rented.
The steakhouse Jimmy chose was more than decent; they piled up in a big booth, hip to hip to hip, and somehow Rey ended up between Sadie and Clyde, with him on the outside so his prosthesis wouldn't get in anyone's way. Sadie was her usual cute self, chattering away about this and that, and Rey listened to her easily, not looking put out by all the talk.
Clyde didn't have much to say, he never did, but it was good to listen - and better to watch Rey eat, putting away mashed potatoes and salad and steak as Sadie ate her burger. Rey talked about cars with Mellie and laughed at Jimmy's stories about working retail, but every so often her gaze would slide to Clyde, just checking up on him, and it made a curl of warmth unfold in his chest every time she did. She didn't try to make him talk, but sometimes she'd ask a question, or lean over to make a quiet, amused comment when Jimmy and Mellie started ragging on each other; and he wanted it to last forever. Family and Rey and good times, all mixed together.
Jimmy insisted on dessert even though his daughter was growing drowsy, leaning against Mellie with a yawn, and Clyde was tempted to slip some of his pie onto Rey's plate while her attention was elsewhere, but the thoughtful look Mellie was giving him quashed the impulse.
When they got back to the hotel, Jimmy carried his sleeping daughter in to bed while Mellie went around the living room switching on the lights and candles. "Pour us some drinks, bartender?" she said over her shoulder. "I got us some nice stuff earlier."
She had indeed; Clyde lifted an impressed eyebrow when he opened the bar cupboard and saw the bottle there. He lifted it out and reached for the glasses stocked next to them, glancing at Rey. "You want some?"
"What is it?" She wandered over, eyeing the bottle.
"Bourbon. Mellie's got expensive tastes." He twisted off the top, enjoying the crisp snap of the seal.
"Just 'cause you serve the cheap stuff - " Mellie said, rolling her eyes, and Clyde snorted, reaching for the ice bucket.
Rey beat his grab. "I can get it. Sure, I'll try it, but just a very tiny bit, okay?"
Clyde nodded, and Rey went out the door. She came back just as Jimmy came out of the bedroom, shoving up the sleeves of his sweater. "Ain't going to be able to do that too much longer, she's gettin' bigger every week."
"Maybe she'll go in for football," Mellie said with a grin, and Jimmy scoffed.
"She ain't got the build. Softball, now…"
Rey brought the bucket over to the bar, and Clyde dropped a cube or two into his glass and Jimmy's - Mellie took hers neat - and waved the tongs at the scant finger he'd poured for Rey. "You want ice?"
She shook her head, and he passed her the glass, and then Mellie's. "Give this to her, will you?"
They ended up in the living room, Mellie curled up on the loveseat and Jimmy taking one of the big soft chairs. Clyde sprawled out on the couch, expecting Rey to take the other chair, but she set her glass on the low table in the center. "Excuse me a minute."
She disappeared into the girls' bedroom - to use the bathroom, Clyde assumed. Mellie took a slow sip of her bourbon and sighed. "Oh, that's good."
Clyde stretched his left arm out across the back of the sofa, relishing the pull against tired muscles, and sampled his own glass, letting the smooth flavor fill his throat. It was fine stuff, and for an idle moment he contemplated stocking it at Duck Tape, but the notion was foolish; no one would ask for it, the price point really was too high. Too bad.
Jimmy tipped his glass in Clyde's direction. "This was a damn good idea. Sadie's having a real nice time."
Mellie smiled into her drink. "Maybe you two should go by Disneyland on the way back."
"Hell no." Jimmy shuddered visibly. "Bad enough she makes me watch the movies."
"I still think you should let her paint your nails." Mellie pulled up her legs and curled them under herself.
"Oh sure, that'll look real great at work - "
Clyde smirked and let them tease each other, content to listen and wait for Rey to come back. Fatigue was starting to pull at him, but mostly he just felt relaxed, half-sunk in the plush couch.
Rey came back out, padding in socked feet, and detoured around the table to pick up her glass before sitting down next to him.
Clyde nearly flinched out of sheer surprise. His damaged arm wasn't around her shoulders, not really, it was lying along the cushions behind her, but the effect was almost the same. If Rey had noticed, she didn't seem to mind; she took a tiny taste of her drink, lashes fluttering as she swallowed. "Wow."
Clyde swallowed, too. "What do you think?" he managed.
She took another minuscule sip, thinking a moment before replying. "Well, I haven't tried much alcohol besides beer…but it tastes better after it goes down."
Jimmy laughed, and Mellie reached a clutching hand toward Rey. "If you don't want it - "
"I didn't say that." Rey grinned, pulling the glass closer to her chest.
Clyde forced himself to relax again, and left his arm where it was. He wasn't used to being so close to anyone outside of family, but he didn't feel like he wanted to pull away.
On the contrary, it felt right. Natural, even. Normally he kept his left arm out of the way of folks - partly because some got rude, but also from the memory of pain.
But Rey won't hurt you, the back of his mind told him, and Clyde believed it.
"Did you guys have a good flight?" Rey said, tucking one foot under her leg. "I can still hardly believe you're here."
"Ask Jimmy," Mellie said with a smirk. "It was his first plane ride."
"Yeah, and I'm bringin' my own anesthetic on the way back." Jimmy made a face. "Or maybe get one of those first-class seats. How the hell did you fit in that thing?" he asked Clyde.
"Practice," Clyde returned, though it had been many years since he'd been in a plane seat. Neither the memories nor the more recent flight had been particularly comfortable, but he'd expected that.
"Sadie had fun," Mellie pointed out, and Jimmy's face softened.
"Her brothers tried to scare her 'bout it, but she just laughed at them. They're just jealous."
"Brats, both of 'em," Clyde murmured to Rey, who snickered.
"You doing okay, Rey? Clyde said you found a place to stay," Mellie said, and Rey nodded.
"My bosses at the auto shop are letting me stay in a camper free of charge - I'm fixing it up in my spare time. It's a teardrop trailer, almost vintage, and of course they don't have a sewage hookup in the lot, but the power works." Rey beamed. "Clyde gave me a set of those little tealights, and I was going to put them up tomorrow, but…"
She glanced around the room admiringly, and suddenly Clyde was completely glad that Mellie and Jimmy had crashed his plans, because he would never have thought of something like this.
"What you got on the list for tomorrow?" he asked Mellie, who hummed.
"Well, depends. There's a nice brunch downstairs, starts at eleven, and I found a church not too far away if anyone wants to go - that's at ten."
"You think you can hold off Sadie long enough for all that?" Clyde asked, amused.
Jimmy rolled his eyes. "You forget last time already? She's gonna be up at dawn tellin' us it's time for presents."
"We brought the ones you sent," Mellie said to Rey. "Figured it'd be more fun to open them here."
Rey blushed. "They're not much - "
Clyde nudged her knee with his. "It's the thought that counts, y'know."
"Unless it's somebody wantin' the complete set of Sparkle Ponies or whatever damn thing," Jimmy grumbled. "Bobbie Jo gave me a list."
"Did you find them?" Rey asked, lips turning up, and Jimmy shrugged as Mellie laughed.
"'Course he did. Sadie's got him wrapped around her little finger."
"Says the woman who got her a brand-new tablet. Don't think I didn't see that before you wrapped it." Jimmy slumped in the chair, cradling his glass on his chest.
Mellie pursed her lips primly. "I am encouraging her artistic endeavors."
Rey laughed. "What did you get her?" she asked Clyde, who merely raised his brows.
"It's a secret. You'll just have to wait an' see."
"Hmm, mysterious." Rey sat back again, sipping her drink. Her cheeks were still faintly flushed, her hair curling at the edges, and Clyde hadn't seen anything so pretty since the first time baby Sadie had smiled at him.
If he'd still had his hand, he would have been able to feel the tickle of her hair on his wrist, and the way the cushion moved when she leaned against it.
If I still had my hand, I'd never have found Rey.
Clyde blinked. The thought felt profound, though it was simple enough. If the Curse hadn't sent them over the IED, if he hadn't been hurt, he never would have had to flee, and he would have stayed safe at home.
What would have happened to her?
There was no telling. She might have continued on her way, picked up a lift to the next town, and the next, and the next. She might have found a job, or not; she might have escaped Plutt, or not. Worse might have happened to her.
It's not a tradeoff, Clyde reminded himself. Not a price. Dr. Min had been very firm about that. Bad things happened, but while he was free to find what meaning he could in events, they were neither punishments from fate nor some kind of exchange.
Just be grateful that you did meet her. For her sake, and for his own.
Rey looked down into her glass, which still had a swallow or so of bourbon, and tilted it to make the liquid circle the bottom. "I didn't bring her anything," she said quietly, as Mellie and Jimmy argued lazily about computers.
"'Course you didn't, you didn't even know we was coming. She ain't expecting anything." Clyde pointed his chin at his siblings. "She's gettin' so much stuff from them two that she won't even notice."
"And from Uncle Clyde?" Rey said, mouth curving slyly. "I hear he's the best uncle."
"I'm the only one she's got," he returned, though his ears were heating again. He wasn't going to admit that she was right about the presents at least. "Mostly it's books."
And if he slipped a toy pony or two in there too, who could blame him?
Rey's smile softened, and she nudged him back. "Books are great presents."
For the life of him, he couldn't keep from smiling back; and then wondered why he should.
The four of them chatted desultorily for a while; Clyde suspected that his siblings at least were very tired, but no one quite wanted to end the evening. Rey changed the dynamic, he'd noticed that almost at once - they still teased each other, but Mellie wasn't so sharp about it and Jimmy's discontent wasn't in evidence. Clyde wasn't sure if they were hiding it for Rey's benefit, but it felt more like there just wasn't any need for it. Maybe it's just Christmas Eve.
He savored it like the bourbon, though, setting it in memory.
Eventually Mellie yawned, hand only partially covering it. "Mm. Y'all can stay up 'til Santa comes if you want, but I'm quittin'."
"Me too," Rey said ruefully. She set aside her empty glass and pushed to her feet, swaying just slightly as she tilted her head to regard Clyde. "See you in the morning?"
He looked up at her, all soft in the golden light. "I'll be here."
She smiled. "Goodnight then."
"Sleep well, boys," Mellie added, yawning again, and the two of them vanished into the ladies' bedroom.
Jimmy watched them go, sleepy-eyed, then glanced at Clyde. "How you holding up, little brother?"
Normally Clyde would have brushed him off - had, in fact - but tonight the question didn't sting. "Better'n I deserve."
Jimmy snorted. "Ain't we all." He slid down a bit, knees sticking out in a vaguely ridiculous fashion. "Can't make up my mind," he added.
"'Bout what?"
Jimmy grinned. "Bed, or another glass of that fine stuff."
Clyde considered the choice, then stood up. "Can't take it home on the plane…"
Jimmy held up his glass, and Clyde took it, pouring them both another measure and wishing Rey sweet dreams.