We Need a Little Christmas by Sierra Donovan Read Free Book Online Page A

kitchen and dining area, where the tile floor made things colder still. Despite all the moving around they were doing, the house was taking an inordinately long time to warm up. Liv went back to the hallway just off the dining area to check the thermostat. She frowned.
    â€œIt still says forty-two,” she called to the kitchen, just a couple of steps down the hall from her. “I don’t think the heater’s kicking on.”
    â€œI never heard it,” Mom called back. “It makes that clicking noise when it first comes on.”
    â€œWell, my fingernails are turning blue,” Rachel said. “I think we’d better call Scotty.”
    Scotty, again. Liv should have seen that one coming. She fished out her cell phone. There were no reception bars. She walked back into the kitchen, but the display on her screen didn’t change. “Where is there any reception around here?”
    â€œMom’s house,” Rachel said helpfully. “Sometimes when you get higher up it’s a little better.”
    â€œSo, what, I should climb on the roof?”
    â€œNo,” Mom said. “You should use the regular phone, the way people have been doing for the past hundred years.”
    Liv sighed. Mom had never owned a cell phone and probably never would. Up in Tall Pine, the reception was so inconsistent, there just wasn’t much use for them. She wondered if they’d even be able to reach Scotty. He was probably out working. Fixing someone else’s heater.
    As Rachel dialed the old black rotary phone on the kitchen wall, Liv had the feeling she’d fallen into a technological time warp.
    She pulled up a dining chair alongside the one Mom sat in. They’d found an old needlepoint footstool for her to prop up her leg.
    Liv caught herself asking, “How are you doing?”
    â€œNot too bad,” Mom said. “I like the Motrin better than that other stuff. It doesn’t make me woozy. But all this—” She gestured around the kitchen.
    â€œI know,” Liv said.
    With clients, it was easy to go into ruthless-with-discards mode. She taught them to ask themselves basic questions: What will I use it for? Would I buy it again if I lost it? What’s the worst possible thing that could happen if I throw it out?
    But generally, she was helping clients deal with their own clutter, not a lifetime of someone else’s belongings. Just about everything in Nammy’s house held memories for at least one of them. Even the pots and pans had been hard, although everyone had a set at home. Rachel had kept a cast-iron skillet, and Mom had decided to keep the baking sheets.
    Rachel was speaking into the phone now, but her voice had the recitation-like tone of someone leaving a voice mail. There was no telling when Scotty would hear the message.
    â€œMaybe we should break for lunch?” Liv asked when Rachel hung up. “Go somewhere warm?”
    Liv didn’t usually procrastinate, but this seemed like a great time to start.
    â€œIt’s not even eleven o’clock,” Mom pointed out. “And we wouldn’t be here if Scotty calls back.”
    â€œWe could call back and leave him my cell—” Liv slapped her forehead. Her cell phone number wouldn’t do any good if they were in a dead spot.
    Rachel grinned at her. “Hang in there. You get used to it after a while.”
    Nevertheless, Liv took one more glance at her phone. There were no messages on the display, but did that mean anything? She realized she hadn’t heard anything from Terri about the business since she got here. Hopefully that meant the holiday doldrums had set in, as expected. If an emergency did come up, it might be hours before Liv heard about it.
    â€œOkay.” Liv sighed and pocketed her phone. “Where were we?”
    They’d started two piles in the living room: one to keep, and another one, nearer the door, to go. The to-go pile was bigger, but not by