No Place Like Home (Holiday Classics) by Fern Michaels Read Free Book Online

all heard a soft woof.

3
     
    H e was in that delicious place in sleep, half-awake, half-asleep, as he struggled to recapture the dream. His leg stretched out, certain it would touch Lexy’s silky leg. Good thing? Bad thing? He wanted the dream back. Better not to think about Lexy. He squeezed his eyes shut and was immediately transported back in time to the happy place in his dream. A place that was tranquil and beautiful, with wonderful, loving people.
    “We’re ready, Dad,” the triplets called, their gear piled up next to the car. He looked up to see his mother standing in the doorway. God in heaven, what would he have done without her when Margie died? What would the triplets have done without Cisco? She was the glue that had kept them all together. She never complained, never had a cross word for any of them. She’d stepped right in after the tragedy, and their lives never missed a beat.
    He stared at her a moment later, loving the gentleness and strength of character he saw on her face. She smiled, a smile that always made his world right side up. It was a smile that said, we can do this together. She was beaming now, her cheeks pink with excitement for all of them. Even from where he was standing he could see the sparkle in her eyes. Sometimes he wondered why he was so surprised at her abilities. She’d risen from the ashes when his father died way too early in life. With very little money in the bank, a skimpy insurance policy, she’d started to make candy in the kitchen after she worked all day at the telephone company. It was a mother-son operation. She made the caramels and taffy, and he wrapped them when they cooled down. Then on Saturday mornings, they delivered them to all the stores in the area.
    It took three years before his mother decided to go the catalog route with gift boxes of candies for the holidays. Another two years expanding the cottage at the foot of the Allegheny Mountains, and they were off and running.
    “We’ll bring you a present,” the Trips shouted.
    “I can’t wait to see what it is. No dead fish now!” Cisco laughed.
    “You guys sure you didn’t forget anything?” he asked, climbing behind the wheel.
    “Nope. We packed everything. Let’s go, Dad!”
    This was their first camping trip since Margie died. In one way he was looking forward to it, and in another way he was dreading it. The two-hour ride up the mountain had always included sing-alongs, jokes, and storytelling. He didn’t know if he could pull it off with the same gusto as Margie had. He was going to try like hell. Maybe, though, they needed to change things. Not that he wanted to forget his wife; nor did he want his children to forget her. The past belongs in the past, he told himself.
    Hard-Hearted Hannah brought it front and center. Twelve years old, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. “Let’s talk about things. Let’s make promises we will never break. Okay, Dad?”
    “Well, sure. What do you want to talk about?” he asked as he steered the car up the winding roads, the scent of evergreens wafting through the open windows.
    “Boys!” Sara and Hannah squealed.
    “Girls!” Sam bellowed.
    The questions came faster than bullets.
    “When can we shave our legs?”
    “How can we get the curl out of our hair?”
    “When can we get our ears pierced?”
    “What if a girl hits me? Hard?”
    “How am I supposed to carry her books and mine, too, and still stand up straight?”
    Earth-shattering questions they already knew the answers to because Cisco had made sure they knew. Cisco never left things hanging. He knew they knew about reproduction and all the womanly things they were supposed to know. Sam knew what he was supposed to know, too, because Cisco left nothing to chance. They were testing him, pure and simple. His answers took up the first hour of the drive, with the Trips giggling and laughing at his discomfort.
    He knew he’d passed when Sam said, “Okay, now, let’s get to the