Hope for Us All: A Hope Series Christmas Novella by Michelle Sydney Aaliyah

Author:Michelle, Sydney Aaliyah [Michelle, Sydney Aaliyah]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: SAM & Associates, LLC
Published: 2016-12-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

We entered the house.

The noise smacked me in the face.

Football highlights played on the television. Jack and my dad were in the midst of a debate about the playoffs. My mom and Mrs. Mitchell argued over side dishes.

I barely finished greeting Mrs. Mitchell before my mother chimed in.

"Where are the sweet potatoes?" she asked.

"What sweet potatoes?" I asked.

Kayla grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and popped the cork.

Thank God for my best friend.

"Sweet potatoes for the sweet potato casserole." My mom's shoulders slumped. "Carrington, you can't have a Christmas dinner without the sweet potato casserole."

I stood with my mouth open.

Kayla giggled in the background.

"Oh, and Jackson and the boys love beef on Christmas." Mrs. Mitchell scribbled something on my notepad. "Maybe we can remove the ham and replaced it with quick beef roast."

Kayla handed me a glass, and I downed half of it while the great side dish debate continued.

I removed myself and collapsed into the nearest chair, listening to my dad, Mr. Mitchell, and Jack. Jackson's name peppered throughout the conversation.

I peeked in the kitchen, and even Kayla had joined the female cooking summit.

I zoned out for a few minutes until I heard Jack call for me.

"Momma, is it too late to add to my Christmas list?"

"What?" I blinked.

Jack continued.

"There are some PlayStation games that are exclusive to the new unit." He spouted off titles while counting on his fingers. I blinked again and stood up. "Mom. You okay?"

I didn't answer him. I walked to my room and closed the door.

I picked up my cell and scrolled to Jackson's number. Our grinning face photo popped up, but I ended the call. I'd unloaded on him enough. I jumped when my phone rang in my hand.

The caller id showed a photo of Adam sitting behind his desk with a serious expression. It was an act. Adam didn't do serious. He switched between euphoria and disillusionment.

"Yes, Adam," I said.

"Hey, I know you're going to kill me."

"Then why are you calling me?" My voice came out harsher than I intended.

"Whoa, what? What's wrong, Carrington?" he asked with his concerned lawyerly tone, which wasn't really concern. It was also an act. "Is this about me telling Jackson about Orlando?"

I had forgotten about that, but now, I was pissed about it, too. Before I could lay into him, he continued.

"I'm sorry, Carrington. I thought you would have told him. I feel like shit about it." He almost sounded sincere.

"What did he say when you told him?" I asked.

"He didn't say anything. He grunted under his breath, and I let someone pull me away." Adam chuckled.

"Jesus, Adam."

"I know. I'm sorry.

"Never mind." I shook my head. "What is it?"

"I need you to email me something from the office's secured server. It's a summary judgment motion from the McKinnon file. It's worded perfectly. I need you to add it to the Branson motion. It needs to be filed first thing Monday morning."

"Adam ..."

"I know. I'm a thoughtless dick. Just think, in a few months, you'll be the one annoying another lawyer to do your bidding.

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