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    A Not So Merry Christmas: Christmas, #2
    A Not So Merry Christmas: Christmas, #2
    A Not So Merry Christmas: Christmas, #2
    Ebook57 pages52 minutes

    A Not So Merry Christmas: Christmas, #2

    By Victoria Schwimley

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    About this ebook

    Things in the Baker household haven't gone well this past year, and Angie's attitude is beginning to show it.  As the family deals with a sudden lack of money and ill cheer, a freak household accident will leave Angie blind but will open her heart. 

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherVictoria Schwimley
    Release dateNov 24, 2017
    ISBN9781386767473
    A Not So Merry Christmas: Christmas, #2
    Author

    Victoria Schwimley

    Victoria resides in Northern California. Her books include the Jessica Crawford series, Crime Solver's Detective Agency series, and Fath series, as well as several standalone books. She has also written, produced, and directed several stage plays. When not writing, she is often playing with grandchildren, reading, sewing, or chatting with friends on Facebook. 

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      Book preview

      A Not So Merry Christmas - Victoria Schwimley

      A Not So Merry Christmas

      Christmas, Volume 2

      Victoria Schwimley

      Published by Victoria Schwimley, 2017.

      This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

      A NOT SO MERRY CHRISTMAS

      First edition. November 24, 2017.

      Copyright © 2017 Victoria Schwimley.

      Written by Victoria Schwimley.

      Table of Contents

      Title Page

      Copyright Page

      A Not So Merry Christmas

      About the Author

      A Not So Merry Christmas

      I shoved a shopping cart with all my might into one of those little racks that, no matter which store you go to, are inconveniently placed in the parking lot.  My face was still red from my recent argument with the sales clerk inside the store. Being overdrawn in my checking account was bad enough, but must the clerk announce it to the entire store? I was lucky to have just the right amount of cash on me to pay for the bread and milk. Of course, that meant I had no lunch money for the rest of the week, but hey, I could stand to shed a few pounds.

      The cart bounced back and ran over my foot. Still angry, I stormed back into the store and waved my fist at anyone who would listen.  Your goddamned cart ran over my foot.  If there’s any damage, I’m going to sue you! It seemed like fifty-thousand pairs of eyes turned in my direction as I stormed back out again.

      Outside the door someone tugged on my coat. I looked down at a dirty-faced little girl with stringy hair and screamed, What do you want?

      The little girl recoiled and a woman pulled her back. Don’t bother the woman, Chrissy.

      But Mommy, I only wanted to ask her if she had any money for dinner.

      I shook my head. What a loser. Look, lady, I said, why don’t you get a job instead of teaching your kid to beg?

      I shook my head again and walked off. I got into the car and wiped the hot tears from my cheeks. How had my life come to this? Kevin and I both had good jobs; it’s just that our monthly expenses far exceeded our income, and with daycare so high, there was barely any money left at the end of the month.  I was looking forward to next year, when   Bradley would be old enough to come home after school, instead of paying for after-school care. Not that I wasn’t nervous about it; Kevin and I had argued extensively about it. I thought Bradley was too young, but Kevin thought eleven was plenty old enough to stay home alone. For a short while, I had argued, but not every day. How am I supposed to concentrate on work when I’m worried about our son? Kevin had won though when I got a shut-off notice in the mail because I hadn’t had enough money to pay the electricity when it was due. I wouldn’t budge on Emily, though. We’re not letting our eleven-year-old son watch a six-year-old every day after school! I had screamed. Kevin must have had a horrifying vision of some tragedy because he closed his eyes and nodded. We hadn’t spoken the rest of the night and went to bed angry.

      I put the car in gear and backed out of the parking space, tires screeching. In the rear-view mirror, I could see the woman and her child watching me. What was wrong with them? Hadn’t they ever seen an otherwise rational woman lose her temper?

      I turned on the radio and attempted to calm down. I didn’t want the kids to see me like this. From the speakers came the voice of Bing Crosby telling me to have myself a merry little Christmas.  Nothing merry about this Christmas, I said and flipped it off.

      At that moment, I felt a stabbing pain hit my temples and travel down my neck and into my arm. The pain was so severe it felt as if electric currents were running through my body. I slammed on the brakes and tried desperately to remember if I was supposed to turn into or away from a spin.

      Deciding it was into, I yanked hard with my good arm, squeezing my eyes against the pain, but also blocking

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