I'll be home for Christmas

Chapter 39

Chapter 39 - I'll be home for Christmas

Disclaimer: the characters and all recognisable situations belong to Stephenie Meyer - this is a work of fan fiction, except for the legends and histories of the Quileute that, of course, belong to them. I pay my respects to their gods.

Thanks to BanSidhe [ruadh sidhe] and Feebes86 for betaing and pre-reading.

Seth was making the trip to Forks to the Outfitters store. They shut at ten pm and marked all the meat down just before closing. Especially the barbecued chickens and he loved whole barbecued chickens. He was on a mission with strict instructions from his mother to buy everything and he clutched her credit card in his hand.

He stacked it all in the cart, resisting the urge to chow down on one of the chickens before he hit the registers. It was making his mouth water and his stomach growl, when his wolf hearing picked up the sound of a small child crying.

"I want chicken," she wailed.

Shit. He had just cleaned out the whole display.

"Cash or card?" the cashier asked him.

"Oh… card." He waved it in front of the machine. He was still trying to listen to the other conversation.

"Sweetie, there are none left," the mother replied. "And I don't have enough money to buy takeout."

Seth glanced around, threw the last few bags in the cart and rushed out to load it all in the red truck, borrowed from Embry for the food run. He plucked out a still warm bag of chicken and headed off to find the small family. He found them by the side of the entrance to the store. The woman was strapping the little girl into her stroller.

"Chicken!" she wailed.

"Oh, honey," the woman said. Her voice cracked as if she was going to cry.

Seth felt like a heel.

"Excuse me?"

The woman stood quickly and defensively dragged the pram back away from him. He held up the bag and smiled down at the little girl. He tried not to look threatening but it was pretty hard given how physically intimidating he was. They were both frightened by him and he knew it. The mother was looking at him sceptically.

The small girl saw the bag. She waved her hands excitedly.

"No," her mother announced.

"It's a gift. Late for Christmas, I suppose." He kept talking to the little girl knowing that the mother would be swayed by her. He didn't even look at the mother.

"Mommy?" she asked.

He could hear her stomach rumble. The odor of cooked chicken was getting to her as well.

Now he glanced at the woman, and he stopped talking.

They both stood there for a minute.

Seth shook his head. "Sorry," he said.

She still looked suspicious. He noticed that they were not dressed very warmly for Forks mid-winter. They both looked cold, as if they had put on extra layers rather than a good quality warm coat.

"No," he said. "I'm inviting you both to supper."

"Supper?" the mother repeated. "Why?"

"It's the right thing to do and my mother will kill me if I leave you here where it's cold and you are both hungry and you have no dinner because I bought it all and you don't have enough money to buy any more. And it's late and she should be in a warm bed and the heater in the old truck still works. It's toasty warm in there."