Queenie Baby: Pass the Eggnog Read Online Free PDF

fifty mile radius of town, Mabel will know."
    The Grands smiled conspiratorially at one another. I think I heard my sister mumble something about not wasting any time under her breath.
    "We'd really appreciate that," my dad said.
    "Any reason you think he might be in town?" Kyle asked.
    I raised my eyes heavenward.
    "Babs said he's here," replied Aunt Pearl right on cue. Kyle looked confused.
    "Diana's grandmother. My sister," Aunt Pearl explained.
    "Is that the same grandmother who died in a car crash?" he whispered to me.
    "Yes," I ground out with a glare at The Grands.
    "She's hauntin' us until we get Brandy reunited with her pappy. She tol' Mammaw here, the man was gettin' ready to kick the bucket," Granddaddy said, shoveling a glob of mashed potatoes into his mouth.
    Kyle looked at me. I pursed my lips and remained silent. Anne tried to bring reason back to the conversation. "We're not sure about all that," she said smoothly, "but Brandy would really like to find out what happened to her father. It's been so many years." She shot a sympathetic look in my mom's direction.
    How the two of them were not only friends, but neighbors as well, was beyond me. Anne's prim manners and retired school teacher wardrobe contrasted sharply with my mom's trailer park attitude and colorful vocabulary.
    "I would be careful about offending our friends upstairs, dear," Mammaw said softly. "We do need their help, you know. And we certainly wouldn't want them feeling they needed to prove anything to us."
    "Yeah," chimed in Dan, "they were right about a man for Diana bein' at the door." He had mashed potatoes on his nose. My sister rolled her eyes and used her napkin to wipe him off like he was one of the kids. Which, I guess, he kind of was.
    "Well, I'll do anything I can to help," Kyle replied and dug into his plate. It looked like the quality of the food was overcoming the kookiness of the conversation for Kyle.
    After dinner we all filed back into the living room. I ran up to the attic to grab my guitar from my little room under the eaves. The top of the stairway was pitch black and freezing. I paused outside the door, a little unnerved by the shiver that ran down my spine. A faint rustling sound came from the other side of the door.
    I threw open the door and clicked on the light. The room was just as I'd left it.
    Get a hold of yourself, Diana. I switched on the fireplace so it wouldn't be freezing when I came up for bed. I grabbed my guitar and turned to leave, my eye catching the mirror over the small dresser. The surface was fogged from the cold.
    I stepped closer to get a better look.
    A word was scrawled across the surface:
    H-E-L-P
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CHAPTER FOUR
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    When I reached the living room, I was out of breath from the sprint down the stairs and completely unnerved by the message on my mirror. I told myself it must've been one of the kids goofing around or maybe even my sister trying to get even with me.
    The family was already singing a rambling version of "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer." A carafe of wine sat among glasses on a side table. I poured a hefty glass and took a gulp. The ghost discussion had finally lost steam; no way I was bringing this up right now.
    I felt like Ebenezer Scrooge getting a mysterious warning from his dead partner Marley. It wasn't that I hated Christmas. I just felt let down by it in the past. When I was twelve, my parents announced their divorce a few days before Christmas. The next Christmas was spent with a new family. I remember looking at Ashley while everyone opened presents and wondering if she felt the same way. Like we had crashed some other family's Christmas morning. Where had all these people come from, and why did I have to spend my Christmas with them? I'd gotten over it, but I never felt the same way about Christmas again. Each year I became a little less enthralled with the magic and a little more irritated by the mayhem.
    My sister waved