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Overview
Korie Robertson is excited to open her heart and home to Hunter and show him what the Christmas season looks like for the Robertson family. And like it or not, Hunter experiences it firsthand. From duck-hunting disasters with the bearded guys, to learning to cook with Miss Kay, Hunter quickly discovers what it’s like to live with this boisterous, yet loving family. Putting on his headphones and ignoring them is not an option. Before long, Hunter begins to let his guard down. But with Christmas and the end of his trip fast approaching, will it be too little, too late? Or will Hunter be open to the greatest gift of all?
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781496400499 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Tyndale House Publishers |
| Publication date: | 10/01/2014 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 320 |
| File size: | 9 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
A Robertson Family Christmas
A Novella
By Kay Robertson, TRAVIS THRASHER
Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Copyright © 2014 Kay RobertsonAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4143-9820-4
CHAPTER 1
I WON'T BE HOME for CHRISTMAS
Hunter held the plastic gift card like it was a business card from someone selling life insurance. On the front of it was the white Apple logo that matched his laptop and his iPhone and his "I" life. On the back was his name and $250 written in pen that had smudged so it was barely readable.
Hunter Clarke's father was speeding to get to the airport. Not because he might miss his flight but because Hunter might. And heaven forbid that might mean he had to stay home and actually spend Christmas with his family.
"That would stink if you got a ticket," Hunter told his father.
"I'd make your mother pay for it then."
This actually made Hunter laugh. "I'd like to see that."
The BMW switched two lanes without his father bothering to signal.
"I asked Stacy to take you since this was her idea to start with, but she said she couldn't leave work."
"I don't have to go."
His father let out an annoyed sigh. "We talked about this."
"I think Mom and you talked about it. Somehow I wasn't a part of the conversation."
Which was typical of how they operated. His entire life was dictated by others in another room. Who he'd stay with and where he'd go and what he'd do.
Sometimes he thought of the news story about the girl suing her parents. Sometimes he thought of trying that himself, but then again, he was only seventeen years old.
Maybe in another year I'll take 'em both to court. Failure to parent in any meaningful way. Emotional damages of a million dollars.
"You know I'll be with Carson over break."
"I could go too," Hunter said.
"Not this time," Dad said. "I told you—soon enough. We're gonna be busy, and I don't think you'd have much fun."
Hunter didn't say anything more. He'd already tried harder than usual. Most of the time he just kept his mouth shut when it came to Dad and his precious older brother. "Carson this" and "Carson that" and training and summer workouts and games and schedules and off-season and all that nonsense.
His older brother was born with the ability to catch a football and run. The only thing Hunter really caught in his life was a case of chicken pox or measles or rheumatic fever. The last one was quite a doozy, too.
But I'm very clever.
Hunter knew that football got you far in life. Being clever got you sent to the principal's office.
"I still think duck calls are made up," Hunter said. "They can't be real. A business built off making duck calls? Come on."
"Quite a successful business. See—you put your mind to it, you can come up with something like that."
"Obviously I have to. 'Cause it's not like my athletic abilities are gonna get me far."
Dad was way past the point of taking bait like this, but that didn't mean Hunter wouldn't still try. He thought of the evening when his mother told him about winning the contest. The first thing Hunter had ever won, and it was like sending him away to prison.
Louisiana? Duck hunting? Bearded men?
At first he had thought it was a joke, but he also knew Mom wasn't the joking kind. Then he simply told her no, he wasn't going to do it. It finally took getting Dad on the phone to make Hunter realize this was not something he could get out of. He had tried numerous times to tell them he wasn't going, but they made it very clear he was leaving.
"I really hate everything about this," Hunter said.
Dad's jaw tightened as he looked at him. "You're always telling me that you're tired of being at home, that you're tired of being around your mother."
Yeah, 'cause I want to be with Carson and you.
"This is your chance to get away."
"Spring break in Cancún is getting away," Hunter said. "This is just being gone."
Soon the BMW was parked alongside the curb outside the doors for American Airlines.
"Look, buddy, this is gonna be fun. Do you realize who you're spending Christmas with?"
"People keep telling me," Hunter said.
He hated when his father used the word buddy.
Dogs should be called buddy, not youngest sons.
"Do you know I had two different fathers try to buy this off me?"
"I wouldn't have objected," Hunter replied. "We could have split the earnings. Not told Mom. Gone to an NFL play-off game."
He got a clap on the shoulder. "Think of this as some grand adventure."
"Yeah, okay."
"And hey—don't you go spending that gift card until you're with me," Dad said with a grin that reminded him of Carson.
"I won't."
"Merry Christmas."
It was three days before the actual day, so Hunter assumed he was supposed to wear these words on his chest like a name tag at some awful function.
"Tell Carson I said to break a leg," Hunter said.
Dad just shook his head. He hated that joke and so did Carson. They had a thing about being superstitious.
Hunter also had a thing about being super sick when it came to almost anything to do with Carson. Yet the truth was that if Dad asked him to go to Carson's university, Arizona State, and hang out with them for the next two weeks, Hunter would do it in a heartbeat.
He knew it would also probably be the two best weeks of his life.
He grabbed his backpack and suitcase and slipped out of the car. He headed through the sliding-glass doors and toward security. Dad had been nice enough to print off his boarding pass. So very thoughtful of him.
As he stood in line, Hunter saw a family of four waiting together and talking and laughing. He watched them more out of fascination than anything else.
The frustrating part of life wasn't the sadness he carried around like house keys in his pocket. It was standing at a closed door, knowing there was something better behind it.
Standing there and never, ever finding the right key to open it.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from A Robertson Family Christmas by Kay Robertson, TRAVIS THRASHER. Copyright © 2014 Kay Robertson. Excerpted by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc..
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