Better not cry, p.1
Better Not Cry, page 1
part #8 of Rebekka Franck Series
BETTER NOT CRY
A Rebekka Franck Novel
Willow Rose
BUOY MEDIA LLC
Contents
Copyright
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Part I
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Part II
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Part III
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Part IV
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Epilogue
Chapter 72
Afterword
Books by the Author
About the Author
Girl Divided, excerpt
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Part 1
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Order your copy today!
Copyright Willow Rose 2017
Published by BUOY MEDIA LLC
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Cover design by Juan Villar Padron,
https://juanjjpadron.wixsite.com/juanpadron
Special thanks to my editor Janell Parque
http://janellparque.blogspot.com/
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Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree for me
Been an awful good girl
Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight
EARTHA KITT, "Santa Baby"
You better watch out
You better not cry
Better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town
HAVEN GILLESPIE, "Santa Claus is Coming to Town."
1
For six-year-old Tobin, it all started…and ended…with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. It was only the beginning of December, yet Tobin insisted on putting out the cookies and milk for Santa on December 1st and every day from then on. Just in case, he told his parents. Just in case Santa decided to be early this year.
They had barely finished Thanksgiving dinner before he pulled out his stocking from the big box of Christmas stuff and hung it by the fireplace, ready for Santa to fill it up.
Tobin's mother, Jacqueline, enjoyed her son's excitement around Christmas, as she herself was a big fan of this particular holiday and always had been. Jacqueline, or Jackie, as most people called her, encouraged her son to put out the cookies and milk. And this year, Tobin was especially excited since he had made a big wish for Santa. His only worry was that this was one he wouldn't be able to fit into his stocking. It was one Tobin believed Santa might not even be able to fit into that big bag of his. It was a wish so big, Tobin had written a letter to Santa already in the middle of November to make sure the old bearded man with the jolly laugh had enough time to find the right one, the one with the big brown eyes looking back at him from the cage in the Animal Adoption Center at the mall. The little white pit bull puppy with the black spots on his back and paws so big they almost looked like clown's feet.
He had named it Rocky.
His mom and dad had told him it would be difficult for Santa to fit Rocky inside his bag, but Santa would just have to work a little harder on that Christmas magic of his, Tobin thought. If anyone could do it, it was Santa. Tobin believed he could and he would.
That was why he put out the cookies and milk starting on the first day of December. Just in case Santa had to be early to get Rocky to Tobin. Just in case. Besides, Santa deserved a little extra this year if he was going to give Tobin such a big present.
Tobin placed the plate of freshly baked cookies by the fireplace before bedtime, and the glass of milk next to it. His hands almost shivered with excitement and Jackie worried her son wouldn't be able to sleep much. She leaned over and kissed him on his head.
"Don't be disappointed if Santa doesn't come tonight," Jackie said. "There are many nights before Christmas."
"I know," Tobin said with a shrug. "It's just in case he does stop by a little early."
"All right, then," Jackie said and kissed him again. He looked so cute in those little pajamas of his with all the planes on them. She smelled his newly washed hair. She remembered when Alyssa used to smell like that. Jackie glanced toward the staircase. She didn’t often see her teenage daughter anymore. Not because she wasn't home. She was up there in her room on the computer or phone most of the time. She just never wanted to hang out with her family anymore. Jackie could never really figure out what she did on that computer up there and had given up controlling it a long time ago. She just wished her daughter would get outside and get some fresh air occasionally and not stay cooped up in her room, getting paler and paler as the days passed. She used to be such a healthy kid, always in the pool or out surfing with her friends. But not anymore. Jackie couldn't understand why she didn't want to go outside more often. This was Florida. December was a great time to be outside, often the best time of the year.
"You think there are enough cookies, Mommy?" Tobin said, concerned.
Jackie chuckled. "I think Santa will be very happy. Now, off to bed. You know Santa doesn't come till you're sound asleep, right?"
Tobin's face lit up. He sprang for the stairs. "Come on, Mommy. I have to go to bed now. Hurry."
Jackie smiled and walked toward the stairs. "I’m coming, I’m coming."
She glanced back at the milk and cookies before following her son up the stairs, wondering, hoping, and praying that Tobin wouldn't cry the next morning when he realized Santa hadn't been there yet. Otherwise, it might end up being a very long December. Very long indeed.
2
"Santa is the best, Mommy. I love Santa."
Tobin yawned as he spoke. He was under the covers all tucked in and Jackie had finished reading a story. His eyelids were half closed already.
"I know you do," Jackie said.
She looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was eight o'clock and Steve hadn't come home yet. She sighed and felt a pinch in her stomach. The renovation company worked him so hard, especially at this time of year. They had barely finished hurricane season with all the extra debris they had to get rid of and this year it was worse than it had been in years since Irma had rushed through the entire state. Cocoa Beach hadn't been hit too badly, but there was still a lot to clean up and the company was running behind.
Now, Steve didn't pick up the garbage himself. He was in an administrative position and that was why he often had to work late. Tonight, he hadn't even called home to tell her he’d be late. It bothered her and she was worried about him, especially since he didn't seem to enjoy his work very much. He was often miserable once he got home and would hardly speak to any of them except with grunts and grumbles.
"But now you have to sleep."
Jackie kissed Tobin one last time, then turned out the lights, except for the one in the walk-in closet that Tobin wanted on as nightlight since he was terrified of the darkness.
"Do you think he’ll come tonight?" Tobin asked as she approached the door and had her hand on the handle.
She sighed. She knew he wouldn't be there tonight. Of course, Santa wouldn't come on December 1st, but the boy was so hopeful, it was hard to crush such sincere hope. Fact was, Jackie and Steve had already bought the puppy for Tobin and the Adoption Center would keep it till they could give it to him on Christmas morning. But she could hardly tell him that, could she? It would ruin the surprise and since he so sincerely believed it was Santa who brought the presents, she could hardly let herself destroy that. It would come out at some point and ruin all the magic of Christmas. She remembered the day Alyssa came home from school and told her mother that none of the other kids believed in Santa anymore and so now she didn't either.
"You gotta believe in Santa," Jackie had told her.
Secretly, she suspected that Alyssa still believed but just didn't dare to say it. Jackie once believed she had seen him. Jackie chuckled at the memory when walking out of Tobin's room and approaching Alyssa's door. It was covered in signs telling everyone to stay out, to knock before entering.
She couldn't have been much more than five or six when it happened. It wasn't on Christmas Eve when most people usually saw him. It was in the middle of December when she had heard the rustling from downstairs and hurried down. She had spotted Santa in her living room, sitting in her dad's recliner. As he saw her, he tapped his lap and signaled for her to come and sit on it and so she had. He had laughed his deep laugh while asking her what she wanted for Christmas and Jackie had told him, whispering how she wished for a new bike, a Barbie doll with purple nails and…oh, yes…for her parents to no longer be divorced.
Santa had laughed, holding his stomach, then told her he couldn't give her all of that, but he could give her something else.
"What?" she had asked, looking up into his red glowing eyes that looked like two beautiful Christmas globes.
Santa had turned his lips upward in a grin when suddenly the light was turned on in the living room and her mom had spoken with a sleepy voice.
"What's going on down here?"
Jackie looked up at her, then said: "It's Santa, Mommy. He wants to know what I want for Christmas."
"What are you talking about, Jackie? It's not even Christmas yet."
Jackie had then turned her head back to look at Santa, but he was gone and she was sitting in the recliner all alone.
"Get back to bed," her mother had said angrily. "I don't like you running around at nighttime."
"But…?"
"Go to bed."
Today, Jackie knew it had just been a dream. Just a product of a child's vivid imagination. She had probably just been sleepwalking, as she had been known to do before. Jackie shook her head again when thinking about how determined she had been in convincing her mother and brother the next day that Santa had actually been there at her house. She had waited for him to come back, but of course, he never did. And her mother had gotten so sick of hearing about it, she had finally told Jackie that there was no Santa. He didn't exist. It had broken Jackie's heart and, just like that, POOF, the magic of Christmas was gone.
Jackie knocked on Alyssa's door and waited for her to yell.
"What?"
Jackie peeked inside. As usual, Alyssa was sitting on her bed, her laptop on top of it, headset on, and speaking into her microphone.
"Wait a sec, my mom's here," she told whomever she was chatting with.
Jackie often worried it was some pedophile guy from Russia who took pictures of her, or maybe a member of some gang that stole young girls and trafficked them. But Alyssa usually just rolled her eyes at her when she addressed it and told her she wasn't stupid, and then slammed the door.
"What?" Alyssa asked and pulled one side of the headphones from her ear to hear what her mother said.
"Your brother is sleeping. You have one more hour until bedtime."
Again, the rolling of the eyes, followed by a growl. "Mom, I know that. You don't have to come in here and tell me that."
"Just making sure you're still alive," Jackie said.
"Well, I am. Now, can you leave?"
"Who are you playing with?" Jackie asked.
Alyssa sighed, annoyed. "Chris, all right?"
"Who's Chris?"
"He's my friend."
"I’ve just never heard his name before."
"Well, now you have. Okay? Don't forget to close the door when you leave."
Alyssa put her headset back on, so she could no longer hear if Jackie said anything else. Jackie sighed and closed the door, trying hard to remember when Alyssa was younger. It was getting harder and harder to remember how cute she used to be.
3
Tobin woke up just as the clock stroke midnight. Eyes wide open, he stared at the ceiling. Had he heard something? Was it a sound coming from the living room? Was someone down there? Could it be?
Santa!
Tobin leaped out of his bed, then stopped for a second and stared at the light coming from the closet. It had always scared him to pass it at night since he often imagined it being a gateway to another universe filled with monsters and that the portal might suck him into it like a spaceship into a black hole.
Tobin stared at the light coming from the closet, his breathing getting heavier while imagining the door slamming open, and almost feeling the suction from it.
Then he shook his head and looked away. No, he had more important things to do. If Santa was, in fact, downstairs bringing him Rocky, there was no time to waste.
Tobin opened the door and went into the hallway, bursting with excitement as he heard another noise come from the living room. It sounded like bells. And not just ordinary bells.
Santa. It has got to be Santa!
Tobin imagined Santa eating his cookies and drinking the milk while rubbing his belly and chuckling joyfully. He imagined his red cheeks getting redder from smiling so much and his beard being all white and fluffy as cotton candy.
But when Tobin reached the top of the stairs and looked down, he couldn't see anything. It was dark, but light emerged from the streetlamps outside and lit up the living room just enough for him to see that there was no Santa, there was no Rocky, and the cookies and milk were still where he had left them.
Disappointed, Tobin sulked. He was about to turn around and walk back to his room when he heard another sound. Excited once again, he looked down and saw ashes falling in clusters from inside the chimney.
It is him. It is Santa!
Tobin let out a small shriek and hurried down the stairs, closer to the chimney. A small cloud of ashes fell and filled the air. Tobin had told his mother to get the chimney cleaned for Santa, but she insisted he was used to it, that a little ash stuck inside of it wouldn't bother him much. As a matter of fact, it helped him slide down easier, she had said. But Tobin knew his mother was just saying that because she didn't want to spend money on getting the chimney cleaned. Christmas was expensive enough as it was.
