Home for the Holidays by Rochelle Alers Read Free Book Online

windows of the six homes lining Coosaw Court. He’d learned to ride a bike and played baseball, basketball, and football in the cul-de-sac where homeowners parked their vehicles in driveways or on lawns in order to provide a safe space for their children to play.
    Extending his legs, he pulled Tracy closer. “I wanted to surprise you,” he said after a comfortable silence. “I knew if I’d called you…”
    â€œI know,” Tracy said, interrupting him. “I would’ve acted a fool like I did when you told me you were coming back from Iraq, but when I didn’t hear back from you for almost a week, I had a meltdown.”
    Collier tugged on her twists. “Let the choir say amen,” he teased.
    Tracy slapped at his hand. “Very funny,” she drawled. “How long are you staying this time?”
    â€œI’ll be here through Christmas.”
    Two deep lines of concern appeared between Tracy’s eyes. “Are you on medical leave, because you’ve never come home that long. What are you hiding from me, Collier?”
    Chuckles, beginning in Collier’s throat, bubbled up as he threw back his head and laughed loudly. “I’m not hiding anything. Do you want to conduct a strip search to check for wounds?”
    Tracy punched him softly in the shoulder. “Don’t be gross.” She looped her arm through his. “I’m glad you’re home. I’ve just about worn my knees out praying for you.”
    Light from the lanterns flanking the front door cast a flattering glow over Tracy’s face. Collier stared at his sister’s profile, smiling. A boy who’d lived in the house across from the Wards used to torment Tracy saying she was adopted because she looked nothing like their Vietnamese French mother or African American father. The harassment ended when Collier caught him alone threatening to knock his teeth out if he ever bad-mouthed his sister again. The boy didn’t know Tracy looked exactly like her paternal Gullah grandmother who’d been one of the island’s official griots.
    He smiled. “You can continue to pray for me but not on your knees. I’ve been told I’ll be stationed stateside unless—”
    â€œPlease don’t say it,” Tracy said, interrupting him again. She rested her head on his shoulder. “I love you, Collier, and I worry about you. I know you’ve made the Army your career, but what about your personal life? Do you ever think about having children?”
    Collier closed his eyes for several seconds. “Not really.”
    â€œWhat happened to our promise that if I made you an uncle you’d make me an auntie? Layla will be eight next year and I’m still not an auntie. How long do you expect me to wait?”
    â€œTwo years. Max.”
    Tracy hugged his arm. “I’m going to hold you to that.” A flash of humor crossed her face. “What’s with you, Layla, and my friend rolling around on the kitchen floor?”
    â€œWe were having an impromptu wrestling match.”
    She made a sucking sound with her tongue. “What would folks say if they found out that Scrappy challenged a little girl to a wrestling match?” Tracy teased.
    Collier smiled. “Layla loves wrestling.”
    â€œLayla loves having you home.”
    Collier sobered up. “I like being home.”
    Tracy sat straight, giving him an incredulous look. “Who is this stranger masquerading as my brother? The last time you came back you complained you couldn’t wait to leave. What changed?”
    He pondered his sister’s question for several seconds. Two days before celebrating his thirteenth birthday, he’d sat in the lecture hall for an orientation at the elite military school, certain he was going to hate being away from home and all that was familiar. Collier resented his father’s decision to send him to what he thought of as a quasi-juvenile