The Spirits of Christmas Read Online Free PDF

interposing
herself between Toby and Hannah and glaring. “If you even try, I will . . . I
will . . . I will exorcise you!”
    “Ha,” the old woman snorted. “As if.”
    Akira’s glare didn’t change.
    A smug smile crept across Hannah’s lips. “Worked, didn’t
it?”
    Akira blinked as she realized that behind her, Toby had
fallen silent. Tentatively, she turned. Toby was watching, eyes big, thumb locked
between his lips. “I won’t let her hurt you.”
    He pulled his thumb out of his mouth. “She not dere.” He
leaned forward and waved his hand through Hannah, then promptly tucked his
thumb back into his mouth and sat back.
    “Oh.” Akira felt stupid. She should have realized. If the
ghosts weren’t quite real to Toby, a hit of their energy wouldn’t sizzle him
like it did her.
    “Offer him food,” Hannah said. “Quick, before he remembers he’s
sad.”
    Akira opened her mouth to object—if the boy was scared about
losing his mother, food wasn’t going to solve his problem—but then she paused.
Food often did make people feel better. “Are you hungry?”
    He nodded, still wary.
    Ten minutes later, in the kitchen, Akira pinched the bridge
of her nose. Those were real tears dripping down Toby’s face, real snot coming
out of his nose, but it wasn’t as if she could un-put the spoon in the yogurt.
She’d had no idea that breaking the smooth surface meant that the food would
become inedible.
    “I should have warned you,” Hannah said. “He’s one of that kind.
My boy was like that, too. Every little thing needed to be just right.”
    “Toby, sweetie, it’s the same,” Akira tried desperately. She
took a bite of the yogurt. “See? Yum.”
    “No, no, no,” Hannah groaned as Toby sobbed harder. “That
won’t do it. Offer him ice cream.”
    “What?” Akira said, sticking the spoon back in the yogurt. “He
can’t have ice cream for breakfast.”
    “Oh, please,” Hannah snapped. “There’s no difference between
ice cream and that crap.”
    “Ice cream has more fat, more sugar, less calcium.” Akira
waved the spoon, then took another bite of the yogurt. Toby might not want it,
but she and Henry needed food, too, and it tasted delicious to her.
    “So what? Some days you need ice cream.” Hannah nodded
toward Toby. He’d stopped crying for the moment and was again watching them
with big brown eyes.
    Akira sighed and took another bite of yogurt. “Ice cream?”
she offered.
    A cautious smile lit up Toby’s face. He nodded.
    “I can’t believe you fed your kid ice cream for breakfast,”
Akira muttered to Hannah as she watched Toby happily spooning up the last
melted drips of vanilla.
    Hannah scowled. “I didn’t.”
    “You didn’t? But—” Akira nodded toward Toby in protest. She’d
listened to Hannah, thinking the older woman knew what she was talking about.
She felt deceived.
    “After Nick was grown and gone, I took in fosters,” Hannah
said. She fell silent for a moment, looking lost in memory, then shook her head
and went on brusquely. “Ice cream for breakfast once in a while doesn’t hurt
them. Kids don’t figure getting it once means they’ll get it all the time and showing
you’re willing to do whatever you can to make a bad day better means a lot. I
wish I’d learned sooner how much little treats matter.”
    Akira looked at the old woman. In repose, the harsh lines
woven by time creased her cheeks and pulled her face down, but her eyes weren’t
as mean as Akira had thought they were.
    “We haven’t found Nick yet,” Akira said cautiously. “But
Meredith left him a message asking him to call me.”
    Hannah shook her head, her eyes on Toby. “He’s never coming
home. He hated it here. Always dreaming. Always working on how to get away.”
The muscles in her face worked for a moment and then she sniffed hard and
brushed a hand across her nose. “But don’t think I’ll let them stay here,” she
said firmly. “I don’t want company.”
    While she was