Home in Time for Christmas Read Online Free PDF

version of Stevie Nicks.
    Her one great drawback was that even though she had passed that mark of having lived on the earth for over half a century, she saw no evil in anyone, and believed that all could always be made right with the world. She had no enemies. Strangers were always friends waiting to happen.
    â€œMelody! Mark. Oh, Melody, I thought you said that Mark couldn’t come with you—oh, goodness, I’m sorry, you’re not Mark!” Mona said, a hand fluttering to her breast.
    â€œNo, ma’am, I’m Jake Mallory. How do you do? I’m sorry to be a strange and uninvited guest, but Melody assured me that you would not mind the intrusion.” He spoke naturally, even if his accent was more than strange. More England than New England, Melody thought.
    But he was doing well enough. He was natural and courteous. Her mom greatly appreciated common courtesy in anyone. Manners were a main grievance with her—Mona believed they cost nothing and made the world a better place.
    Mona smiled, accepting his hand. “Well, of course, you’re welcome here. Everyone is welcome here, young man.” There was warmth in her tone, but confusion in her eyes. She looked at Melody, questioning.
    Melody gave her mother a big hug. “Mom, I found out Jake was going to be at odds for Christmas and picked him up last minute in Boston. He was working, and didn’t have time to change, and when we realized we’d forgotten his things, I was already on the road.”
    â€œOh, and the weather is horrendous!” Mona agreed, hardly listening as she ushered them inside. “And here I am, chatting away on the porch. You young people comein and sit by the fire and I’ll make some hot chocolate.” She turned, heading into the house. Melody and Jake followed. She paused, telling Melody, “Take Jake to Keith’s room, get him something comfortable to wear. Poor dear, working all day, and then that long drive.”
    Poor dear! Oh, yeah. Poor lunatic!
    The house was old, very old, some parts of it were built sometime in the early 1600s. A small entryway led directly to a massive parlor. A curving staircase led to the second floor where there were five bedrooms. Behind the massive parlor were the kitchen and dining room on one side, and a family room on the other.
    Behind the house itself—now covered in snow—was her mother’s summer garden.
    And her father’s office. Laboratory, as she and her brother called it. Her father had a fascination with waves. Radio waves, microwaves—sound waves. Any kind of wave.
    A happy baying that seemed to fill every inch of sound space came to their ears; Brutus, the basset with wheels for hind legs, came clip-clapping happily into the room, his tail wagging a mile a minute. He was followed by Jimmy, the sheepdog, who was now fat and healthy. Melody knelt down to pat both dogs and they wove around Jake.
    â€œIngenious,” he said, hunkering down to meet Brutus.
    â€œYes, and he does quite well,” Mona said happily. “He’s a darling. That’s Brutus. And the pile of fluff there is Jimmy. There’s a cat running around, and that’s Cleo. She’s blind, but she has an excellent sense of smell and hearing. Just don’t panic if she walks into something—she still does that upon occasion.”
    â€œCharming,” Jake said.
    â€œWe do love our strays,” Mona assured him happily.
    Melody stood. “Okay, we’ve done the petting thing for the moment. Come on up, Jake, and I’ll find some of Keith’s things for you to wear.”
    â€œPoor young fellow!” Mona said, “You’re soaked, you must be freezing. Hurry along now, get into something warmer.”
    â€œYes, ma’am,” Jake said.
    Melody headed for the stairs. She stopped and looked back.
    Jake Mallory was in the parlor, looking around. She started to snap at him again, but her words froze in her