Read A Cold Christmas for Free Online Page A

answered.
    â€œEttie, are the kids there?”
    â€œNo, dear, they’re with their father.” As though Caley were some nit who couldn’t keep track of her own children.
    â€œThey should have been back at three.”
    â€œI’m sure they’re fine. They’re with their father,” Ettie repeated, as though that meant safe and sound.
    â€œThey were supposed to be home hours ago.”
    â€œI’m sure they’re having such a good time, they don’t want to come home.”
    â€œBut—”
    â€œI’m dripping all over the rug and my bath is getting cold. Good-bye, dear.”
    Caley paced the house, yanking at her hair and running her hands through it. Pausing at the ancient mirror in the hallway, she gazed at herself, black circles for eyes, red nose, hair standing on end. Portrait of a Madwoman.
    At six forty-five the phone rang. She pounced on it.
    â€œMom?”
    â€œZach, what’s wrong? Where are you?”
    â€œLevel off, Mom. We’re just about to have a pizza.”
    â€œThis late? Where’s your father? Let me talk to him.”
    â€œUh—he went to order food. Don’t worry, Mom, everything’s cool.”
    It was nine forty-five before Mat got them home, Bonnie asleep over his shoulder, Adam stumbling alongside glassy-eyed with fatigue; even Zach was dragging.
    Mat said he’d call tomorrow and sped off before she could gather enough wits to form sentences from all those words she’d chewed on while she was waiting, the ones about responsibility and common sense.
    â€œWhat did you do today?” she asked Bonnie as she peeled clothes off the limp child and pulled on pajamas.
    â€œEverything,” Bonnie breathed happily, snuggling into her pillow as she was covered up.
    Caley tucked Adam in, made sure the blankets were tight around his shoulders, and kissed his forehead. “Did you have a good time?”
    â€œGrr-rate! We got to shoot Dad’s gun. ‘Night, Mom.”
    Gun? She wanted to shake him awake and examine this gun business. Instead she went to tuck in Zach, who complained repeatedly that he was too old. She did it anyway. It’s for me, she always told him.
    â€œAdam said your father has a gun.” Try as she might, it sounded like an accusation.
    Zach sighed. “Yeah.”
    â€œAnd?”
    He sighed again, reluctance in every molecule of expelled air. “Don’t go into liftoff, Mom. We went to a shooting gallery. Targets. You know?”
    She hung on to all the furious words zinging around in her head. It wasn’t Zach’s fault his father was an idiot. “Were you any good?”
    â€œBetter than Adam. Bonnie was hopeless. She didn’t like the noise, even with earmuffs.” He waited. “You going to yell at me?”
    Caley smiled. “You, no; your father, yes.” She kissed him and then went to her bedroom, replaced her clammy clothes with a sweat suit, and dragged her aching bones to bed.
    It was a night congested with dreams about Mat and a gun, shooting the shadowy man who had appeared at church, shooting the pharmacist as he handed her medicine that allowed her to breathe, creeping into the house and shooting them all in their beds.
    Blood flowing down the basement stairs brought her bursting up, shedding sleep like water. She panted. Oh, boy, she really had to stop watching all those late-night movies. Her throat was so raw she couldn’t swallow, her head throbbed, and she was dripping with sweat. How long did this damn flu last? She was startled to realize daylight was seeping in around the window shade.
    Bonnie breezed in and announced, “There’s an evil prince in the basement.”
    Caley moaned. Was she up to playing one of Bonnie’s games right now? “Who is he?” she asked.
    â€œHe kidnapped the princess and hid her away.”
    â€œOh,” Caley said. “That wasn’t very nice. What