First Christmas (Finding Freedom #1.5)

Chapter 1

“N atasha!”

I dropped my straightener on the vanity’s top and sighed at the mess on Lucas’ side. His toothbrush was rinsed, but laying two inches away from the holder and the toothpaste was uncapped beside it. His hair brush was inside the sink, up on its end, carelessly tossed when he’d left for his pre-sunrise start of shift this morning. Beard hair was everywhere from where he’d obviously trimmed it.

Lucas and I had been together for a while now, engaged to be married, and quickly coming up on our first Christmas living under one roof. I met my dark brown eyes in the mirror and shook my head. It’s been more of an adjustment than I anticipated. I’d spent so long being lonely, that now, living with another adult, has proven to be more of a challenge. I wasn’t prepared.

Sure, I’d had Nat cohabitating with me all these years but this was different. I had been in an abusive marriage thirteen years ago and left the moment I found out about her. Having a child was different than this, you taught them what to do and enforced it. I’d always been organized. Everything had its place and was labeled. I didn’t think I was some Type A bitch, but man, being engaged and living with someone was sure showing me a lot about myself.

I loved my fiancé. He quite literally saved me from a lifetime of loneliness and gave my daughter the father figure she had always been missing in her life. He was six-feet-six-inches of husky, tattooed, close-cut-bearded sexiness. But the man was a slob. Okay. . .maybe I was being a little dramatic when I said slob. He was a little messy. He was always in such a rush that he didn’t leave enough time to clean up after himself.

I, on the other hand, was used to planning extra time to make sure I could put things back where they went.

“Natasha!” I yelled again at the lack of response, “We’re going to be late!”

I turned the straightener off and laid it on the hot mat on my tidy side of the sink. I stopped to give Lucas’ area another moment of serious side eye. I ironically didn’t have time to clean up after him today.

I knew it shouldn’t bother me this much. No one came into our private bathroom unless it was an emergency, no guests would see it, but I’d always liked things neat and tidy. My ex-husband had lived like an actual slob and been a borderline hoarder. He hadn’t let me clean and I’d often be in trouble if I broke and did so.

When I was finally free of him, I’d let myself clean and organize to my heart’s content. I was even able to earn a living as a professional organizer. The fact that half of my bathroom looked like this was bothering me more than the typical person. I’d developed some major obsessive-compulsive tendencies over the years that I used to help when my anxiety manifested. The therapist I was seeing currently was helping me work through these things.

I walked down the hall to the bottom of the stairs, and looked up for any sign of life from my daughter. Her dark head finally came into view at the top. She was still in her pajamas.

“What are you doing?” I asked. “We have to be at the school in thirty minutes. This is your last week before Christmas break.”

I’d taken the next few weeks off until after the New Year to spend time with Nat. I’d never been able to do it before as a single mother. Lucas was adamant I do it this year. As I looked at my thirteen year old she wrapped her arms around herself. I smiled softly at her choice of pajamas. She was wearing sleep shorts that matched one of Lucas’ police tee shirts, and her hair was rumpled. Her light blue eyes met my own and I noticed she looked flushed.

“I don’t feel good,” she mumbled with a soft groan.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. This wasn’t in the plan.

She turned to walk back down the upstairs hallway to her room.

I jogged up the stairs tucking my beach-waved, ebony hair behind my ears.

“Should’ve gone with the ponytail,” I said to myself, grabbing a towel she’d left on the floor as I went.

Turning into Nat’s room, I caught her ducking into her private bathroom, and immediately heard the tell-sign of vomiting.

“Fuck,” I sighed softly, wiping my hands over my face. “Honey, are you okay?” I asked, knowing she’d get upset if I came in there to mother hen over her.

Gone were the days when she ran to me when she was sick. She informed me daily that she was a teenager now. I approached the bathroom doorway, giving her room a onceover. Her phone charger and phone were laying on the carpet by the nightstand. The carpet under her bed was somehow crooked, laying across the hardwood floor. Clothes were everywhere instead of in the hamper. Her fairy lights were on and television paused on some obscure movie she and Lexi had been watching the last time they were up here together.

I picked up the gym bag she used for volleyball and immediately held it away from me. I thought teenage boys were supposed to be the stinky ones. Turns out it was teenagers as a whole. Lucas was definitely rubbing off on her. I guess it looked like a typical thirteen year old’s room, but it was getting bad.

I stopped and took a couple of deep breaths.

Now was not the time.

Usually my anxiety set off a cleaning and organizing mood and it was worse than usual today. I guess my special Christmas season anxiety was kicking in.

Nat came to the bathroom door, groaning and still looking pale. I placed my cool hand against her burning forehead.

“Oh, baby. Get in bed. I’m going to get the thermometer, you're burning up.”

I turned on my heel after she nodded weakly at me and walked barefoot back down the hall and stairs. Opening the hallway closet, I swear to God my eye twitched. It too was an absolute disaster. I was starting to feel like a raving bitch. I took a deep breath and counted to ten. Moving around unfolded linens and towels, I found the sick basket.

I’d always had a tub, bucket, or basket with kleenex, a thermometer, and medications for any ailment ready to go. Being a single mom meant I had no time to hunt and gather these things sometimes. There was no one else to yell at to grab them when your toddler was projectile vomiting or pooping across the house. It had just stuck with me at this point. Balancing the basket on my plus-sized hip, I jogged back up the stairs and down the hall. I was relieved I hadn’t put my hoodie on and was just wearing my leggings and soft, short-sleeved shirt.

Nat was already curled up in bed, burrowed under the blankets with her bathroom trash can beside her. Setting the sick basket on the bed, I grabbed the thermometer and moved her dark hair off her sweaty forehead. I scanned her temple and groaned at the one hundred and two degree temperature that greeted me.

“I think you’ve caught the flu.”

Her best friend’s family had been down with it the week before. It had made the rounds through the schools. My best friend Monica was the school receptionist and had warned me before it took her family out of commission. Lexi was Monica’s daughter, and Nat’s best friend.

I handed Nat some Tylenol and ducked into her bathroom to get her sink cup and fresh water. I ignored the toothpaste in the sink and hair ties strewn across the floor and vanity. Reaching over I shut off her hair straightener, noting to give her another safety lecture when she was feeling better. Walking back into her room I handed her the cup and gel caps she’d laid on the nightstand. Making sure she took them and was laying back down, I pulled my cell phone out and shot a text to my best friend.

Ah, the perks of being besties with the school receptionist meant I didn’t have to hold to speak to someone.

I smiled. My best friend was the absolute best. She’d had a rough time of it the past few months. Losing her husband of over a decade in a tragic situation. A tragic situation that I still felt like was all my fault. It was something I was struggling with daily even though she constantly assured me she didn’t hold it against me. I still woke up with night terrors about the entire situation. I couldn’t imagine how she was coping with things and being left alone with her two daughters. I wondered when Lucas was going to grow weary of being woken up to me thrashing around or screaming.

I didn't feel like I deserved that love. Sighing I glanced at my daughter and saw she’d drifted off to sleep. Tip-toeing out of the room, I left the door ajar and called my fiancé.

“Hey, gorgeous,” came his gravely, low voice as I held my phone to my ear.

“Hey, baby,” I vaguely remembered him kissing my forehead and whispering he loved me before leaving at four o'clock a.m, “Natasha has the bug.”

“Nooooo,” he groaned, “Is she okay? Does she need anything? Do you need anything? What do I do?”

Laughing softly, I stepped into the kitchen and over to the coffee pot, pushing start. This would be his first illness with Natasha. I often forgot how over the top he could be with her. It was like she was his newborn baby. I had to keep reminding him that as a teenager she could use that against him.

“It's probably just the flu, Lucas. I’ve given her Tylenol and she’s already back asleep. It kind of has to run its course, sweetheart. I was just letting you know I have to call in. I may have to make up the day I’m missing next week when I was supposed to be on vacation.”

“Oh. Well that’s okay.”

That’s okay? I thought to myself. He’d been on me for months to make sure I’d taken the week off for myself. I shook my head, brushing it off.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked, watching the coffee drip and willing it to go faster. Caffeine was very important to me.

“I feel fine. Right as rain. I don’t remember the last time I was sick,” he assured me. I could hear the buzz of the station in the background and my heart clenched. I still expected to hear Monica’s husband, Paul’s voice in the background making some smartass remark, or grabbing the phone to talk to me, just to irritate Lucas.

“Yeah. Me neither. I’ve been pretty good about not catching anything Nat has had. Just a couple of colds.”

I knocked on the wooden, cutting board counter of the kitchen bar, just in case I’d jinxed myself.

“I’ll see you around one o'clock this afternoon?” I asked.

“Yep. I’ll stop by the cafe and bring home some of their chicken noodle soup for all of us. I’ll get extra for Peanut.”

My heart melted hearing this man’s nickname for our daughter. He hadn’t had a hand in making her but you couldn’t tell she wasn’t his. She was meant for him, just like I was. I rubbed my hand over my chest glancing around the airy kitchen. It could use some straightening as well.

“That sounds great. I’m going to call work and let them know. I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

I sighed, pouring some sugar into the bottom of my coffee mug. I usually drank iced coffee, but the weather outside was gray and the forecast finally called for snow. It felt like a morning for hot coffee.

As I called into work and waited for the coffee to finish, I cleaned and straightened the kitchen. I at least had a day to clean up and organize the house I felt was in chaos. Even if it was going to end up right back to its current condition within a week.

A couple of hours later, I tip-toed into Nat’s room to check on her. I’d managed to clean and organize the kitchen, the hall closet, and the bathroom I shared with Lucas. If Nat hadn’t been sick, I’d have tackled her room too. It was the only other spot in the house that really needed it.

Laying my hand on her forehead gently, I breathed a sigh of relief that she felt cooler, though still warm. This bug seemed to only last 24-48 hours. Monica had said Lacey and Lexi had only thrown up once or twice. It was the fever and exhaustion that had hit them all.

I sighed, thinking of my friend as I left the room again. Lucas and I had a very special Christmas present planned for her. It was our first Christmas as best friends, and her first holiday season without her husband. I winced as I thought about the past again. My therapist said to move on, but it was hard when there were so many reminders in my day to day life.

After thirteen years of running and fear, I’d met Lucas and Monica. They were the best things to ever happen to me outside of Natasha. Unfortunately, my ex-husband Clark, and his best friend, Larry had finally caught up with me. Things had gotten very dire and resulted in Paul losing his life.

Seeing me meet Lucas and starting to move on had been Clark’s last straw. He and Larry had gone as far as to kidnap and torture me. When Paul had been the one to find me at the old house on the abandoned farm, Larry had overtaken him, and he’d been killed in action.

I took a shaky breath, standing at the top of the stairs. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath in for ten seconds, and counted out to ten slowly. My therapist was trying to teach me coping mechanisms that weren’t as harmful and obsessively cleaning the same spot on the floor for fifteen minutes. They only helped sometimes.

If it wasn’t bad enough that I had post-traumatic stress from an abusive relationship and marriage, now I had some from witnessing all that I had.

Watching Paul die in front of me had broken something inside of me. It was my fault. He’d still be here if I hadn’t come to this town. Lucas had immediately insisted that I see a therapist that he knew through the force. He promised that he, and his Nan, were the only two that knew I was seeing one.

I didn’t feel right telling Monica I was in therapy because it was her husband who had died. Yes, I’d been kidnapped and nearly killed, but I felt responsible for my best friend, my sister’s, current heartache and pain. I felt like I’d stolen something from her and her girls.

Sighing, I crossed the room to the bookshelf that Lucas had put in for me. I hadn’t put many books on it yet.

Picking one, I plopped onto the couch and stared out the window at the snow that had begun falling an hour before. I was determined. This was going to be a good Christmas for everyone, despite everything that I had caused. Natasha and Lucas, because it was our first holiday season as a family. Monica and her girls, because I’d taken so much from them unintentionally.

I curled up on the couch, looking at the clock. It was eleven a.m. and I had two hours before Lucas would be home from his shift with the soup he'd be picking up. Sounded like it was time for a cozy reading session.