The Seacrest by Lazar Aaron

Author:Lazar, Aaron [Lazar, Aaron]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: mystery, romantic suspense, reunited lovers, dual timeline, romance, horseback riding, contemporary romance
Published: 2013-10-19T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 38

Christmas Eve 1997

7:30 P.M.

My little sister Eva was born in the middle of a blizzard. It was a real nor’easter, one that blew in from the ocean and turned our world upside down.

My father and I had just finished doing the dishes after a sugared ham dinner my mother insisted on making for us. She’d prepared the whole meal—in spite of being huge and pregnant and ready to deliver any day now. I’d scarfed down the collard greens, sweet potatoes, gravy, homemade applesauce sauce, and salad.

Mom finally agreed to relax, and now she sat in the living room, her feet propped up on the hearth, a sweet smile on her face. The fire crackled. Jax played on his video game in the corner. Christmas carols crooned softly from the radio in the corner.

Dad and I had just entered the room when she turned to us. “Oh. I just love Christmas, don’t you? And look how nice the lights on the tree sparkle—OH! Oh, dear.” She looked down at the puddle of liquid that dripped onto the wooden floorboards, then raised her eyes to my father with a faltering smile. “It’s time.”

My father went into action. In less than a minute, he’d locked the back door, closed up the glass doors on the fireplace, checked Mr. Jingles’ food and water, and dressed my mother in her winter coat, scarf, and gloves.

“Boys,” he said calmly. “You’re coming with us. There’s a storm out there that might take down the power lines again. I want us together.”

Jax nodded, pocketed his game, and gave us surprisingly little grief.

I ran for my coat and boots and grabbed my mother’s suitcase, which had been sitting by the front door for a week now. “Ready, Dad.”

We battled the snow and wind all the way to the car, with my father and me on either side of my mother. Jax opened the door for her—which surprised me—and she made it inside, already covered in snow and breathing hard.

Her face clinched and she let out a low groan. “Ohhhhhh……” Holding her belly, she began to breathe with short little breaths, the way they taught her in the birthing classes.

My father hurried us into the back seat, waited for the contraction to pass before buckling my mother into the front, and started the engine. “Ready, Mary?”

She waved wildly at him, now leaning sideways with eyes closed, her hands rubbing small circles on her stomach. “Go! Just get me there, Anthony.”

Nerves hitched in my stomach. She sounded strange, less sweet and understanding, more forceful. It was unsettling.

My father nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and began to navigate the snowy roads, meeting drifts head on every few miles that caused us to slow and often slide sideways.

I gripped the armrest, watching the snow sheet across the windows.

In spite of the drama of the moment, my mind drifted to Libby.

Was it snowing in Switzerland?

I pictured her in that fancy, prestigious boarding school, walking in her dark maroon uniform from class to class at the base of the Eiger Mountain.

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