Chapter 2
2
Bailey
B ailey groaned and lifted her eyes to the ceiling. Not another one. She’d paid all the bills; she’d been sure of it. She slipped her finger beneath the edge of the envelope and tore it with frustration, not caring if she ruined the bill itself.
She wrenched out the single sheet of paper and flipped it open. Then she threw it on the table in front of her with a strangled cry. The car insurance. She’d completely forgotten about that one. It was supposed to be paid annually, and it had been taken care of last year before Jack died—before he’d gotten drunk and wrapped his truck around a pole, sending her life into a tailspin.
The bill mocked her. The amount typed out in black and white was more than what she’d painstakingly saved for Anya’s Christmas presents. Tears burned in the back of her eyes. She’d gone over the budget again and again. After all the bills were paid and she’d put aside a meager amount she needed for gas and groceries, there was simply not enough for Christmas.
No tree.
No presents.
She only had a few Christmas decorations from years before that they’d brought with them.
How could she tell her five-year-old daughter that the first Christmas they were celebrating without Jack was going to be so vastly different? Anya still believed in magic. She believed in the tooth fairy and the easter bunny. But most of all, she believed in Santa.
Bailey put her head in her hands and willed the tears to stay back. She’d pleaded with Shane to hire her temporarily for the holiday season. He’d done her the favor because he felt sorry for her; she was sure of it. All of those shifts she’d taken to scrape together enough money to get them by this holiday season—it was for nothing.
No, not nothing.
Now her car would be covered if there was an accident. Most accidents took place in the wintertime with the presence of ice and snow. Even with the feeling of desolation, she could remind herself of that. They couldn’t be without car insurance.
The lump in her throat continued to grow until it was so large and painful that she couldn’t take the pressure any longer. A sob wracked her body, making it tremble as she lay her head on her folded arms. Once upon a time she’d thought she was winning. She was on top of the world.
Bailey had a family, a loving husband, and a beautiful baby girl. She’d gotten her real estate license, and she’d thought that there was nowhere to go but up. That was until Jack took to drinking. He’d harbored several dark secrets of his own—none she would have ever seen coming.
She didn’t know how she was going to make it anymore. Bailey didn’t have any more strength left to fight. She didn’t have the heart to press forward. They’d already sold their house—to a country star, no less. The money from the sale had barely covered the debt from the funeral expenses, and with the rest, she’d made a down payment on the rental they just moved to.
At least Anya had taken it all in stride. She’d been resilient. She still talked about Jack fondly, asking if he was up in heaven watching them. Those conversations were the hardest ones to get through.
The front door banged open and then shut. It was as if thinking about her had been enough to make her appear.
Bailey jolted upward in her seat and wiped at her eyes as she heard the sound of little footsteps rushing through the house. Anya scuffled into the kitchen, her eyes bright with excitement. Bailey got to her feet and forced a watery smile. “Hey, sweetie! How was school?”
Anya dropped her backpack to the ground with a thump. She climbed onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table and squirmed in her seat. “Next week is December.”
“You’re right about that.” Bailey turned her back and blinked several times, praying her daughter hadn’t noticed that she’d been crying. “Do you want a snack?”
“Yeah! Can I have apples with peanut butter?”
Bailey froze. They’d used the last of the peanut butter the other night for sandwiches, and she didn’t know when she’d be able to get some more. She glanced over at her daughter’s hopeful expression and felt like the worst mother in the world. “We’re out of peanut butter, sweetheart. But I can sprinkle some cinnamon on some apple slices.”
Anya nodded, unfazed.
While Bailey got to work on cutting the apple, Anya chattered on about her day at school.
They weren’t just out of peanut butter. She needed several other staples she’d been holding off on. She’d planned on going to the food bank last week, but with the holidays, it had been hard to fit into her schedule.
“Then Tyson said that Santa wasn’t real, and?—”
Bailey spun around and stared at her daughter. “Really?”
Anya nodded, still working on her penmanship assignment from school that she’d grabbed from her backpack. “He said that daddies are the real Santa. I told him he was a liar.”
Bailey’s chest tightened.
“Because my daddy is in heaven and he’s an angel, so he can’t be Santa.”
And just like that, the tears started up again. Bailey turned her back to her daughter and held her breath in an attempt to stifle the soft weeping that refused to be tamed. She was such a bad parent.
“At lunchtime, they had Christmas cookies for dessert.”
“Oh?” Bailey whimpered.
“Uh-huh. They were round with red frosting and little green Christmas tree sprinkles. They were really yummy. Do you think we could make some cookies?”
“I don’t know, honey.” Bailey took in a deep, settling breath, then turned around with the bowl of apple slices. “I’m going to have to take on some more shifts at the country club, and I still have some business in the city.” That was if she could land another listing. People just weren’t interested in selling or buying at the moment, making listings scarce in Copper Creek and the surrounding towns. She pushed the bowl in front of her daughter. “Eat up.”
Anya grinned and picked up the apple. “You’re the best at making snacks, Mom.”
Bailey’s heart crumbled. She continued watching her daughter, wondering how so many things could have gone wrong in such a short amount of time. And yet, Anya was just as perfect as ever.
Her daughter glanced at her and the happy-go-lucky demeanor faded. “Are you sad?”
Spine stiffening, Bailey looked away and forced a laugh. “I’m just tired, sweetie. It’s been a long day.” The bills were still spread out over the table, evidence enough of everything she was dealing with. Thankfully, Anya wasn’t aware of their current struggles. Bailey reached across the table and took her daughter’s hand in her own, finally able to control her expression. “But I’ll tell you one thing, no matter how tired I get, I’ll still want to hear about your day. Was there anything else that happened?”
Anya’s bright expression returned, and she jumped to her feet, wobbling the table. “Yeah!”
Bailey laughed and lunged toward her daughter. “Okay, tell me in your seat.”
Anya clambered back into her seat, but she fidgeted more than before. “We’re doing a Secret Santa.”
The pounding in Bailey’s chest came to a complete standstill. Her stomach lurched, and she could taste bile in the back of her throat. She was all for the school doing fun activities like this one—or rather, she had been when they were financially stable. She prayed that this Secret Santa was something they could put together at home. Maybe they could make it a recycling project. Bailey was sure she could find something around the house for a project like that one.
“We get to buy a book for someone in our class!” Anya squirmed even more in her seat. “It has to be a picture book. It doesn’t have to be very long. And it doesn’t have to be about Christmas.” The way she described the book made it clear the teacher had given her students the whole spiel to repeat to their parents. Bailey’s eyes drifted to the car insurance bill. There wasn’t even two dollars of wiggle room right now.
“When is this Secret Santa?” she asked weakly.
“I don’t know. The paper is in my backpack.” She jumped out of her seat and pulled out a red rumpled paper, then shoved it into Bailey’s hands.
Bailey scanned the document. The teacher didn’t want to put undue strain on families this holiday season, so if a child couldn’t participate, the teacher wanted to know. Well, that was thoughtful. Bailey rolled her eyes and then continued reading. The book wasn’t supposed to be more than fifteen dollars. Whoever agreed to stipulations like that? And the party was next Friday.
Bailey stifled a groan. She wasn’t sure how many shifts she was going to have between today and next week. But it didn’t appear to matter because they wanted the books turned in to the school by this upcoming Friday so they could wrap them for the party.
She glanced at her hopeful daughter. Anya was too smart. If Bailey tried to convince her that they couldn’t do the Secret Santa, then she’d be heartbroken. Since they already weren’t going to have a traditional Christmas, Bailey couldn’t take this away from her. Maybe they could find something from the discount bins.
If they were lucky, they might find some change in the car and under the couch cushions. She took in a deep breath and then exhaled. “You really want to do this?”
Anya nodded vehemently. “I want to get the best book ever and give it to Tyson.”
Bailey narrowed her eyes. “I thought you didn’t like Tyson. He said Santa didn’t exist.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want him to have a good book,” Anya argued. “I’m going to tell him that Santa got it for me and wanted me to give it to him.” She smirked. “He can’t call me a liar because he won’t know.”
Biting back a smile, Bailey shook her head. “I don’t think that’s going to work, sweetie. Besides, Secret Santa is supposed to be a secret , remember? No one is going to know who gave what book.”
Anya frowned. “Oh.”
Bailey got to her feet and held out her hand to her daughter. “But that doesn’t make it any less fun. There’s only one rule.”
Anya’s frown remained. “A rule?”
She nodded. “It’s more like a game—one I used to play when I was a little girl just like you.”
Her daughter’s countenance lit up the room like Christmas lights.
“We’re going to hunt for some coins and dollars around the house. Whatever we find, we’re going to spend on the book. I’m sure we have change hiding in some of the boxes we haven’t unpacked yet. Didn’t we have a piggy bank around here somewhere?”
Anya nodded once more, her excitement palpable. “I think I know where it is!” She took off, her long brown hair trailing behind her.
Bailey watched her go and heaved a shuddering sigh. Crisis averted—for now. Hopefully they’d find enough to get a book. If not, they might have to head over to the library and see if there were any picture books in the giveaway bin. She sent a prayer heavenward, then moved to the kitchen drawers where she’d put trays of pens and containers of odds and ends. There should be some quarters in there. Then she’d look through her car. Everything would be okay. She had to believe that.
Otherwise, she’d be doomed.