A January Chill. Rachel Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ had thought that was kind of silly. Why not let your guests know you were doing something especially for them? But she’d been watching Hannah’s hospitality charm people for years.

      “Sure,” Witt said, following her toward the kitchen. “Coffee’s great, but yours in the best.”

      He always said that. For some strange reason, tonight that irritated Joni. What was wrong with her? she asked herself. Why was she getting so irritated by things that were practically family rituals?

      They gathered at the dining-room table, another family tradition. The only times they ever gathered in the living room were at Christmas or when they had company from outside the family.

      Hannah brought out a coffee cake she had baked that day and cut a large slice for Witt. Joni declined.

      “All right,” Hannah said when they all had their coffee. “What’s the good news, Witt?”

      He was grinning from ear to ear, wide enough to split his face. “You’ll never guess.”

      Hannah looked at Joni and rolled her eyes. Joni had to laugh. “I know,” she said to her mother. “He bought a new truck. Cherry red with oversize tires.”

      Hannah laughed, and Witt scowled. “You’ll never stop teasing me about that truck I drive, will you?”

      “Of course not,” Joni told him. “It’s a classic. Older than me, and so rusted out I can see the road through the floorboards.”

      “Well, just so you know, I am gonna buy a new truck.”

      No longer joking, Joni put her coffee mug down and looked at her uncle in wonder. “Are you okay? You’re not getting sick?”

      “Jeez,” Witt muttered. “She’ll never lay off. Hannah, you should have got the upper hand when she was little.”

      “Apparently so,” Hannah agreed. But her eyes danced.

      “No,” Witt told his niece, “I’m not sick. I’m not even a little crazy. And if trucks didn’t cost damn near as much as a house, I’d’ve bought a new one years ago.”

      “So what happened to make you buy one now?” Joni asked.

      “I won the lottery.”

      Silence descended over the table. It was one of the longest silences Joni could remember since the news that Witt’s daughter, her cousin Karen, had been killed in a car accident. Silences like this were frought with shock and disbelief.

      It was Hannah who spoke first, almost uncertainly. “You’re kidding.”

      Witt shook his head. “I’m not kidding. I won the lottery.”

      “Well, wahoo!” Joni said as excitement and happiness burst through the layer of shock. “Double wahoo! That’s wonderful, Uncle Witt! Enough to buy a new truck, huh?”

      But Witt didn’t answer her. Instead, he simply looked at her and then at Hannah. Another silence fell, and Joni felt her heart begin to beat with loud thuds. Finally she whispered, “More than enough to buy a truck?”

      Hannah’s dark eyes flew to her daughter, then leaped back to Witt. She reached out a hand and touched his forearm. “Witt? How much did you win?”

      Witt cleared his throat. “It’s…well…kinda hard to believe.”

      “Ohmigod,” Joni said in a rush, feeling hot and cold by turns. “Uncle Witt…” She turned to look at her mother, as if she could find some link back to reality there. But Hannah’s face was registering the same blank disbelief. Things like this didn’t happen to people they knew.

      “It’s…” Witt sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I won the jackpot.”

      “Oh my God.” This time it was Hannah who spoke, her tone prayerful. “Oh, Witt, that’s a lot of money. How much?”

      “Eleven million.” His voice sounded almost choked. “Of course, it won’t be that much. The payout is over twenty-five years, and there’s taxes and stuff but, um…”

      Joni, always great at math, calculated quickly. “You’ll still be bringing home almost two hundred thousand a year,” she said. “My God. That’s incredible.” Then, as a sudden, wonderful exuberance hit her, she let out a whoop. “Oh, man, Uncle Witt, you’re on easy street now. So you get the new truck and a lot else besides.” She grinned at him, feeling a wonderful sense of happiness for the man who had been like a father to her since the death of her dad. “It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. So, are you going to Tahiti?”

      He laughed, sounding embarrassed. “Nah. Not unless Hannah wants to go.”

      Hannah’s eyes widened; then her cheeks pinkened. “Tahiti? Me?” She waved away the idea. “What on earth would I do there? Besides, the winnings are yours, Witt.”

      His face took on a strange tension, one Joni couldn’t identify. “So what then?” she pressed him.

      “I haven’t had a whole lot of time to think about it, Joni. Jeez, I just found out last week.”

      “Last week? You’ve been sitting on this for a week?” She couldn’t believe it. She would have been shrieking from the rooftops.

      “Well, I didn’t exactly believe it. I wanted to verify it first. Then…well…” He hesitated. “I don’t want the whole world to know about it, not just yet.”

      “That’s understandable,” Hannah said promptly. “But you must have been thinking about what you want to do with the money.”

      But Joni’s thoughts had turned suddenly to a darker vein, one that left her feeling chilled. She’d heard about lottery winners and how their lives could be turned into absolute hell by other folks.

      “Just put it all in a bank, Uncle Witt,” she said. “Put it away and use it any way you see fit. And just remember, you don’t owe anything to anyone.”

      His blue eyes settled on her, blue eyes that she sometimes thought were the wisest eyes she’d ever looked into.

      “I do owe something, Joni,” he said slowly. “Everyone owes something. I’m thinking about building a lodge on the property. You know how long this town has wanted something like that. It’d make jobs for folks around here, jobs that don’t depend on a mine. And if we had the facility, I’m sure the tourists would follow. God knows we’ve got plenty of snow and hills.”

      But the chill around her heart deepened. Because the simple fact was, when there was a lot of money involved, nothing was ever that simple.

      “Well,” said Hannah briskly, “this calls for a celebration. Let me get you a glass of Drambuie, Witt. What about you, Joni?”

      “No thanks, Mom.” She hated to drink. Besides, something about this didn’t feel right. Witt was looking strange, and Hannah was looking disturbed, and there was suddenly an undercurrent so strong in the room that Joni could feel her own nerves stretching.

      But she’d had that feeling before with her mother СКАЧАТЬ