Free Bah! Humbug - A Jeff Resnick Story by L.L. Bartlett Page B

us.
“Maggie, darling,” she cried, and gathered her sister in a careful
hug. She glanced at me over Maggie’s shoulder. Her smile faded.
    “ Jeff,” she said
coolly.
    “ Irene.”
    I stood there with my arms laden with
packages Maggie had insisted on adding my name to. But I didn’t
know these people, hadn’t contributed toward the cost of the
gifts.
    Irene ushered us into her tastefully
decorated Colonial home, to the formal living room where Maggie’s
kin were sitting on the stiff, uncomfortable-looking furniture.
Irene took our coats, and Maggie and I added the pile of gifts to
the overflowing stack under the Christmas tree. It was Brennan
family custom to open presents after dinner, she’d told me.
    The holiday spirit seemed in short supply,
although the adults were all sipping drinks. The kids were off in
another part of the house, whooping and hollering, which gave the
only hint of holiday cheer. As I took in the somber faces around
me, a sensation of smothering concern for Maggie seeped into me. It
permeated the room.
    It would be a long evening.
    “ Can I get you anything?” a
vaguely familiar face politely asked.
    “ Jeff, you remember Irene’s
husband, Peter,” Maggie said.
    “ Peter,” I said in
acknowledgment. The painless dentist, and the source of status
Irene so coveted. “Bourbon on the rocks, please.”
    “ Maggie?”
    “ White wine would be
great,” she said, and Peter turned for the makeshift bar in the
corner. Moments later, we collected our drinks.
    “ Let me introduce you
around,” Maggie said, and turned toward the couple sitting in the
love seat. “You remember my sister Sandy and her husband
Dave.”
    They nodded. Dave didn’t offer his hand.
Just as well. I didn’t want to touch him. Or anyone else. That
might kick-start my sixth sense that let me know what people were
feeling—and sometimes even thinking. But touching any of them
didn’t seem like it would be a problem tonight. I’d been branded a
pariah.
    As I was introduced around the room, I knew
the dark feelings I experienced were more than my own paranoia.
Maggie’s family had already made up their minds to dislike me. But
why?
    Irene returned with a tray full of stuffed
mushroom caps. She offered them to everyone. Everyone but me.
    Okay.
    Taking the chair farthest from the group, I
looked for something to distract myself. The shelves against the
back wall were full of bric-a-brac, but not a magazine or a book
graced the tables—not even the morning’s newspaper.
    I nursed my bourbon. This was as bad as
sitting in a hospital waiting room. Okay, I knew that routine for
killing time. Two times two is four. Three times two is six. Four
times two is eight....
    I made it to the sixes before Maggie caught
up on the latest family gossip and found me.
    “ You okay?” she
asked.
    I could’ve told her I had a migraine, that I
needed to go home. But why ruin her Christmas with her family
because I was uncomfortable with them? Besides, something in my gut
told me we ought to stay. That was good enough for me.
    “ I’m fine.”
    “ You’re awfully
quiet.”
    I shrugged. “I don’t do well with new
people.”
    “ So mingle,” she said and
smiled.
    God, I loved her. She wanted her family to
like me. She knew they didn’t. Did she know why?
    I decided to push it. “Is something going on
I should know about?”
    Maggie’s smile waned.
    “ Maggs?” I
pressed.
    “ I don’t know,” she
admitted, her expression darkening, her gaze darting to the crowd
in front of the fireplace. “But I don’t like it. I’ll tell
Irene—”
    “ No, don’t say anything.
It’s not worth it.”
    “ But you’re important to
me. I don’t want them to—”
    I touched her arm. “Maggs, it’s just for a
couple of hours. I’ll hang back and keep a low profile”
    “ But you shouldn’t have
to.” Her whisper was turning harsh.
    “ Can I get you another
drink?” Peter asked from behind her.
    I peered around Maggie. “No,