Chapter 38 #2
“Uh, Auntie Carol?” Lily’s voice came from the kitchen. Apparently, she had gotten bored at the slow pace at which the adults opened their presents, so she had wandered into the kitchen, maybe hoping to sneak some candy. “Is the turkey supposed to look like this?”
Everyone jumped up and rushed into the kitchen.
Carol hurried to the oven and yanked the door open.
Smoke curled up.
Quickly, Scottie crossed the kitchen and opened a window before the smoke alarm could go off.
When the smoke cleared, Willow caught a glimpse of the turkey. The once magnificent twenty-pound bird was now a black heap.
“What happened?” Rick asked. “Did you set it to the wrong temperature?”
Carol helplessly fanned the turkey, as if that would make any difference. “No. It’s at 325 degrees.”
Rick turned off the oven and peered inside, then immediately jerked back. “Damn, the heating element is running full blast! I’d bet money the temperature sensor malfunctioned.” He grinned at Scottie and Willow. “I told you two to stop messing with the sensors!”
It was a joke, but it pierced Willow’s paper-thin defenses. Nausea gripped her. She had done this, and this time, it wasn’t just a little glitch. She had ruined Christmas for Scottie’s kind, welcoming family!
The need to escape—to leave before she could cause any more disasters—overwhelmed her. She had to get away before she turned the rest of dinner into a smoldering heap of ash too or destroyed Carol’s brand-new fridge.
Don’t cry! Don’t you dare cry again. Not in front of them.
Before anyone could see the tears burning in her eyes, she pushed past Uncle Dave and stumbled through the obstacle course of boots in the hall.
The screen door closed behind her with a thud.
Cold air stung her overheated cheeks. It seeped through her socks, and she realized too late she hadn’t even paused to put on shoes. She gripped the railing and stared out across the yard without seeing anything. Maybe her parents had been right after all. She should have stayed home.
The door creaked open behind her.
Willow straightened and pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes but didn’t turn around. “I’m okay, Scottie. Go back inside. I just need a minute.”
But instead of leaving, footsteps crossed the porch toward her.
When she turned, it wasn’t Scottie; it was her parents.
Without saying a word, Carol walked over and gently wrapped a coat—her husband’s, judging by the size—around Willow’s shoulders. Rick followed and set a pair of slippers on the porch beside her.
Their kindness nearly undid her. Her eyes started to prickle again, and she kept her gaze on the slippers as she shoved her feet inside so they wouldn’t see her tears.
They studied her, their expressions a mixture of genuine concern and confusion.
“What happened, honey?” Carol asked. “Did you and Scottie have a fight?”
“No,” Willow croaked out, not wanting them to think for even a second Scottie was to blame for this mess in any way. “Scottie had nothing to do with it. I was the one who ruined dinner.”
Carol gently rubbed Willow’s coat-covered arm. “Nonsense. How could you have ruined anything? You weren’t even in the kitchen!”
The door opened again, and Scottie slipped out onto the porch. “Mom! Dad! I told you to give her a minute!”
Her parents didn’t look at her. Their questioning gazes remained fixed on Willow.
“What’s going on?” Rick asked.
Scottie stepped next to Willow but didn’t answer for her or try to take over.
Willow knew it was her decision, even if it was one she didn’t want to make. But even less, she wanted to keep lying. The Prescotts deserved better.
She looked at Scottie, and a slight glimmer of hope flickered alive inside of her. Maybe, like Scottie, her family would believe her. Maybe they wouldn’t laugh or whisper behind her back or start treating her like a menace.
She gripped the railing with one hand, digging her nails into the painted wood while clutching the VIP girlfriend badge around her neck with the other.
“It’s me. I zap people, and I do things to anything electronic.
I make devices glitch or the batteries drain, and it gets worse when I’m nervous or stressed.
I was the one who made the blender stop working, the speaker cut out, the photo frame freeze, and the weather station go haywire.
And I torched the turkey.” She wrapped the coat more tightly around herself, unable to look at them, afraid to see their reactions.
“I’m sorry I ruined your Christmas. So, so sorry. ”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Rick said.
Slowly, Willow dared to glance up.
“Yes, some people build up more static than others, and discharges can damage microchips if you’re handling them directly, but studies show that human electromagnetic fields simply aren’t strong enough to—”
“Forget the studies, Dad,” Scottie sharply cut in. She wrapped one arm around Willow’s shoulders. “This isn’t high school physics. I’ve seen it happen, and so have you!” She gestured toward the house with her free hand. “What more proof do you need? Just trust what Willow is telling you!”
Rick scratched his head and studied Willow for what felt like a long time. “What you’re describing shouldn’t be possible.”
“Dad!” Scottie growled out, heat in her eyes.
“Actually, I know a guy like that,” Noah piped up from the screen door. “Barry from accounting can never get his key card to work. Sometimes, even his car doesn’t unlock.”
Willow squeezed her eyes shut. Wonderful. The entire family had witnessed her confession.
“Would you let me finish?” Rick raised his voice to be heard over the commotion. He turned toward Willow. “What I was going to say is this… I’ve been teaching physics for nearly thirty-five years. I admit my mind is reeling right now, trying to pick this apart and prove it’s not possible.”
Willow leaned more heavily against Scottie’s side. She couldn’t blame him, even though his disbelief stung.
“But then again, back in spring, I didn’t think it would be possible to have Scottie home for Christmas, happy and smiling, instead of holed up in Portland, brooding over the woman whose name shall not be mentioned.
Yet here she is.” He smiled at his daughter.
“So clearly, I don’t know everything about what’s possible. ”
His wife elbowed him. “Yeah, honey. That’s what I keep telling you. There are more things in heaven and earth than your physics books know.” She turned toward Willow. “Don’t worry about the turkey. So what if it’s a little, uh, crispy?”
An incredulous giggle bubbled up Willow’s chest before she could stop it. She stared at Scottie’s mom. “It’s not just a little crispy; it’s incinerated! I turned it into a twenty-pound lump of charcoal!”
“We don’t care about the damn turkey,” Carol responded.
“Or that photo frame or the weather station or any of that newfangled stuff,” Great-Aunt Dorothy called from inside the house.
Carol nodded. “What we care about is seeing Scottie happy. Right?”
“Right,” the entire family chorused.
“And you seem to make her happy. So…” Carol pulled open the door and gestured for Willow to step back inside.
Willow hesitated, still not fully trusting that it was a good idea. “But dinner—”
Scottie squeezed her gently. “We still have the ham, the mashed potatoes, the green beans, the sweet potato casserole, and enough pie to feed an army. We’re fine.”
Uncle Dave stepped onto the porch. “What’s everyone doing out here? Can we finally get the food on the table? I’m starving!”
Rick’s booming laughter echoed down the street.
His wife joined in, and soon the entire family was laughing, even though Willow suspected one or two of them might still have no clue what was going on.
Willow wasn’t sure she had fully grasped it either. How could the Prescotts just shrug and ask her back inside now that they knew what was really going on with her? Did they honestly not care about the string of malfunctioning devices she left in her wake?
The entire clan trooped back into the house.
For a few seconds, Willow stared after them, still not able to wrap her mind around it. Then she stumbled after them on shaky legs, with Scottie half pulling, half steadying her.
Noah closed the door after them. “Next year, we’ll skip the turkey and order Chinese takeout. I’ve wanted that for years.”
“And everyone is getting socks,” Carol added with a playful grin. “No electronics.”
The teasing continued as everyone helped get the food on the table, but Willow didn’t hear any of it because Noah’s words kept echoing through her brain. Next year!
She gave Scottie a wide-eyed look. Despite everything—all of the glitches and the things they wouldn’t be able to have with her around—they wanted her back next Christmas, when even her own family hadn’t welcomed her into their homes?
Scottie gave her a soft, understanding smile. “That’s decided, then. Hope you like egg rolls.”
Willow laughed, and the tears she’d been fighting for the last half hour finally slipped down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away. “Love them,” she croaked out.
Holding tightly to Scottie’s hand, she followed her into the kitchen.