Free Falling Like Snowflakes by Denise Hunter Page A

hadn’t seen in years. The ceramic angel his dad had given his mom in her last days sat boldly on the end table, surrounded by red candles.
    Christmas music wafted through the room, and the fire in the fireplace crackled and popped.
    â€œWhat the heck is this?” He turned his glare on Aunt Trudy, who was knitting on the sofa.
    â€œLook what I found.” Kate bounced into the room, smiling, her arms filled with the three stuffed snowmen his mom had bought years ago when he and his brothers were little. “Oh, hi.” Her smile fell as she studied Beau.
    â€œWho said you could do this?”
    Her gaze toggled to Aunt Trudy and back. “What?”
    â€œThese are our things.” He grabbed the snowmen from her arms, one at a time. “Our personal things.”
    â€œI-I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
    â€œNo, you didn’t.” He grabbed the angel and set it in the box at his feet. Next went the candles and the floppy elf he’d made in the third grade.
    â€œIt-it’s just Christmas decorations . . .”
    He straightened, directing a glare at her. “ Our Christmas decorations. Why don’t you see if you can figure out how to cook a decent meal and do a load of laundry before you start snooping through our stuff?”
    Her cheeks flushed, but he turned to the mantel, taking down the stockings next. He barely heard her and Jack leaving over the freaking Christmas music. He found the radio and snapped it off.
    â€œWell, that was a fine thank-you,” Aunt Trudy said.
    â€œThank-you? How could you let her do this?”
    â€œWell, I’d hoped you’d be more reasonable than your father. It’s been twelve years, Beau. Life goes on.”
    â€œIt brings back bad memories.”
    â€œIs that really it? Or are you just holding on to something your dad started?”
    â€œIt about killed him—or are you forgetting that?”
    â€œYour mother loved Christmas. She wouldn’t want you boys remembering the one bad one when she worked so hard to give you all the good ones.”
    â€œSo we’re just supposed to forget?”
    â€œOf course you don’t forget. But you move on. We own a Christmas tree farm; it’s not like we can escape the holiday. But, merciful heavens, did your stubborn daddy ever try.”
    Beau lowered the garland in his hands, frowning. “I can’t believe you let her do this.”
    â€œShe was halfway done when I woke from my nap, and she was smiling like she’d finally done something right.”
    Beau pulled the rest of the garland down and stuffed it into the box. He didn’t want to be here anymore. And he couldn’t even go over to Paige’s because Kate had invaded her house too.
    â€œI’m going to order the pizza.”
    An hour later he was in his room and on the phone with Paige. “Have you heard from Riley?” he asked after they’d asked about each other’s days.
    â€œHe called this afternoon. He’s hurting, Beau. I think he’s running, but I don’t understand from what.”
    â€œWe had words tonight. Tomorrow’s going to be a disaster.”
    â€œMaybe losing your dad has just made him feel like he’s at loose ends.”
    â€œMaybe.”
    Riley didn’t open up to him anymore—not that his brother had ever been an open book. He’d hoped they’d draw together after their dad passed, but Riley only seemed to drift further away.
    â€œWhy can’t he just join the Coast Guard like everyone else around here?” At least he wouldn’t be as far away. And he wouldn’t be smack-dab in the middle of a war zone.
    â€œIt’s always been the marines for Riley.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œDid something happen at the house today? Kate seemed kind of upset when she came home.”
    â€œWhat’d she say?”
    â€œNot much. She’s been upstairs all night.”
    Beau wondered if