Double Trouble: Twenty Nine; Christmas Day
by Cariad
 
 
 

Double Trouble
~Twenty Nine~
Gifts were sparse around the Crane tree. The children had outgrown the need for as many toys as the eye could see. However, the holiday was acknowledged with a few token presents with expensive price tags. By the end of the morning, Rebecca was dripping in semi-precious stone jewelry, sparkling like a peacock that fell in a Crayola box. She was delighted.

Holly and Julia each received their token $5,000 checks, noting that if they were male like Aidan, they would have had double the amount. And still, Grandfather Crane’s annual mysterious packages had not arrived. Thankfully, though, the final gifts were not the only things absent—neither Jonathan nor Theresa arrived at the mansion.

Holly fought back a yawn. Not only was she tired, but Rebecca’s jewelry was giving her a massive headache. That and the perfume from the flowers Jonathan had so thoughtfully sent over. So there was one little poinsettia that she found irresistible, but the others had to go before her nose went crazy and brought her mind along with it. As the minutes ticked by, Holly felt as if tiny men had set up a scaffold inside her head, and, suspended from the ceiling of her skull, began driving their pick-axes into her head.

The doorbell rang. Holly winced, shutting her eyes and cradling her aching head in her hands. When would Christmas be over and she could get back to bed? Julia shot her a supportive look—which Holly accepted gracefully.

At last the gift boxes were handed out. As usual, Holly’s box and Julia’s box were identical. As if on cue, the phone rang. Julian answered and put it on speaker for the family to get their annual pep talk from the patriarch.

“Greetings,” Alistair said coldly over the phone.

He was in his normal mood, Holly mused. Had he been upset, the greeting would have been much sweeter.

Everyone answered Alistair’s greetings with their own false good wishes.

Upon Alistair’s command, Julian, Rebecca, Aidan, Holly and Julia all opened their respective gifts.

From her own small box, Holly pulled out a locket on a golden chain. Emblazoned on the front was the stylized outline of a crane, a tiny ruby set in its eye. Looking over Julia’s shoulder, she realized that Jules had received a similar one. In fact, the only difference between the lockets were the monograms inscribed on the back. Inside, one half held a miniature of the Crane family crest—purchased, of course—and the Crane family motto: Semper Meliora. “Always better things.”

Both Holly and Julia donned their neclaces, feeling as if a slave's collar had been fastened around their necks.

As Alistair lectured on family loyalty and unity, Holly realized that the little men with pick-axes had left the inside of her brain. Instead, a giant now stood behind her and hammered a large iron spike through the back of her skull and out her right eye.

In her haze of misery, Holly did not notice what her grandfather gave her brother or what he gave Rebecca. Her eyes could not miss, however, the greed glittering in her brother’s gaze as he looked upon the knife given their father. Indeed, the blade was a thing of beauty, the polished steel rising out of the golden hilt, set with rubies and the Crane Crest. The dagger measured about the length from her elbow to her fingertips, including the stylized hilt. The wide blade tapered to a deadly point.

Julian’s hand clutched the knife and his dark gaze fell upon his oblivious mistress.

Holly gasped. Julian had assured her that he was not a murderer. But she knew he was a liar. Could he have lied at her hospital bed?

“Are you all right?” Julia asked, hearing Holly’s pain-filled breath.

Holly nodded gingerly, disturbing the psychic nail driven through her brain. “I’m just tired,” she whispered.

“I’m sure you all know your duty now,” Alistair was intoning over the phone. “Julia, you will not spend all your time at the ball with Chuck Wilson merely because he is closed in age to you”

“I understand, Grandfather,” Julia called loud enough for him to hear.

Holly winced again.

“And Holly, you will be amenable to Young Jonathan Hotchkiss.”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Holly said quietly.

“I did not hear you Holly Katherine,” Alistair cautioned.

“She understands,” Julia called. “Her voice is still hoarse from the incident yesterday.”

“Ah, yes,” Alistair mused, “the incident. Don’t ever let something like that happen again. I have taken the liberty of posting an appropriate reply. Aidan, you will stay out of trouble. I have yet to see you behave in a way suitable for the Crane heir. The ball one week hence will be the START of your proving ground.”

“Of course, Grandfather,” Aidan replied, his eyes shining with greed and hatred.

“Rebecca, no scenes. I will have my eye on you. And you know what I am capable of if I am crossed, understood?”

Rebecca ran her tongue over her lips as if she knew Alistair would be watching. “Of course,” she said coyly.
 

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Julia helped her sister up the stairs, conscious of her sister’s pain. On an unspoken plea, Julia ran into Holly’s bathroom and grabbed some aspirin, a glass of water, and a sleeping mask to keep out the light. Gently brushing Holly’s hair from her forehead, Julia whispered, “Sleep well, Hollis.” She placed a motherly kiss on her sister’s forehead.
“Jules?” Holly asked in a tired voice.

“What?”

“Could you send the flowers to whatever food kitchen or whatnot there is around here?”

“Sure,” Julia replied grimly.

“All of them except that little poinsettia and whatever one you want to keep.”

“I’ll do that, Holly,” Julia replied.

“Thank you.”

Her nursing duties discharged, Julia slipped into her room, pondering her sister’s request. Not knowing the first place to look, she picked up her phone and dialed the number Noah had given her.

An hour later, a small army of vehicles pulled up in front of the Crane mansion. Facing her Julian’s and Rebecca’s displeasure, Julia ran the gauntlet to meet the visitors.

“What are the locals doing here?” Julian demanded as Noah, Sam, Kay, Jessica, Reese, Miguel, Charity, Simone, and several other helping hands began removing Jonathan’s gifts of flowers.

Julia rolled her eyes at her father. “Holly wanted the flowers donated to bring Holiday Cheer,” she explained, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Think of how it would look to the press,” she said with a large smile. “They’ll be out of here in no time.”

And in less than ten minutes, the army of vehicles drove off, heading for the hospital, Julia buckled in the front seat of a beat up VW Jetta.