Hangover Holiday

By Shannon Kennedy

Roaring Rory Gallatin’s girl...
Daughter of the town trouble-maker...
Trailer trash wannabe...

Seventeen-year-old Darcy Gallatin has heard it all, especially when the local minister uses her father as a bad example.

Everyone knows she’s different from the rest of the Gallatin family. She earned a scholarship to prestigious Stewart Falls Academy, is on the honor roll and is a varsity cheerleader.

She has a dream nobody can steal. She’ll study hard, attend a prominent university, and become a large-animal veterinarian, specializing in horses. Then, she’ll return to the small town of Pine Ridge and show everyone what a Gallatin can do. This is her last year at home. Next December she’ll be away at college, so she decides to make the holiday season special for her ten-year-old brother. She won’t let her father ruin Christmas for the whole family, not again.

Disaster strikes when her dad injures Darcy’s horse, Whisky. Can Darcy ever forgive her father, or has he finally crossed the line and made her hate him? Even Darcy doesn’t know for sure, but one thing is certain—she needs to change things. And fast. But how?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melange Books, LLC
• Release date: May 16, 2023
• ISBN: 9798886531183

Shannon Kennedy

Shannon lives and works at her family business, Horse Country Farm, just outside of Granite Falls in Washington State. Teaching kids to ride and know about horses since 1967, she finds in many cases, she's taught three generations of families. Her life experiences span adventures from dealing cards in a casino, attending graduate school to get her Masters in Teaching degree, being a substitute teacher, and serving in the Army Reserve—all leading to her second career as a published author.

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ONE

Snohomish, Washington

Sunday, November 18 th, 2018

He’ll come this time , I told myself. Stop worrying, Darcy Gallatin . I stared out the bus window. We were on Highway 9 headed north toward our school, Stewart Falls Academy and my dad was supposed to pick us up after our weekend field trip to one of the top ranked state universities in Pullman, Washington. Mom had promised Dad would meet us when I called on my cell to let her know we were getting close.

What did you think of Washington State University? My best friend forever, Lynn Jensen elbowed me, breaking into my thoughts. Earth to Darcy. Come in, Darcy. Are you okay?

Fine. I tried to smile at her. I was a bit nervous at first in Pullman, but everybody was really nice and friendly. It reminded me of Stewart Falls.

Yeah. Lynn giggled. But Pullman is bigger. She glanced forward to where our cheer coach sat behind the bus driver. Remember how Ms. Olson kept apologizing for taking us to what she called a small town until you told her the college had the premier vet school in the state?

And you kept reminding her Stewart Falls doesn’t have department stores or bowling alleys or movie theaters and Pullman does. I remembered the town clustered near the university. I was more certain than ever I wanted to go there next fall. Right now, it still seemed like a long time, not a little more than nine months away.

I glanced around the bus at the other cheerleaders. Rita Fernandez and Kaitlyn Harris had their heads bent over a horse book, but most of the girls were talking to the people nearby. I really liked being in Pullman with Varsity and the J.V. squad. Everyone’s been great. No drama divas.

Lynn eyed me for a moment, coiling and uncoiling a strand of bright red hair around one finger before she lowered her voice. Are your parents still fighting?

I nodded, then shrugged like it was no big deal. Dad comes in late from work and Mom yells at him. Then he storms out and gets drunk. He doesn’t get home again till the bars close.

Gross. Lynn wrinkled her nose in disgust. Do you want to talk to my dad about it?

No way. I shook my head quickly. I don’t want Dr. Jed to know.

Darcy, he wouldn’t blame you, Lynn said. Everybody in Pine Ridge and Stewart Falls knows what the Gallatins are like.

Thanks a lot!

Not you. Lynn sighed, a blush filling her cheeks. You’re different. Everyone in Pine Ridge and Stewart Falls knows that too. You’ve gotten straight A’s ever since third grade. People say you’ll be the first Gallatin kid to go to college. If you weren’t special, you’d never have gotten into the Academy.

She was right about that. I couldn’t believe it when the private school offered me a scholarship. Sure, Mom was a teacher at the S.F.A. elementary, but she’d only gotten the job there six years ago, two years after I’d started. I forced a smile when Lynn kept looking at me. It was hard. She was right about my family.

The Gallatins were, as my grandmother, my dad’s mom put it, pure trash with a capital ‘T.’ It’d be a step up for us to be referred to as ‘trailer trash’, or ‘white trash.’ My dad was the worst of all. Everyone called him ‘Roaring Rory Gallatin,’ because he drank and brawled so much, especially if someone called him a no-good drunk to his face.

Lynn didn’t have that problem. Her dad was Dr. Jed or Dr. Jensen to the whole town of Pine Ridge and Stewart Falls. When I told my grandma I planned to be a large animal veterinarian like Dr. Jed, she said, ‘Good luck with that. You’re the same as the rest of the Gallatin clan. You’ll be pregnant before you finish your senior year.’

The only person who didn’t laugh or sneer at my dreams was Lynn’s dad. He told me with a diploma from WSU’s vet school, I could start a clinic of my own anywhere in Washington State. Somehow, I’d make it to Pullman, and I’d be a doctor too.

The bus slowed, and I looked out the window. We were turning off on the road in front of the Academy. We’d be at the school in a few minutes. I looked for my dad’s battered red pickup, but I didn’t see it. According to him, all these trees and mailboxes jumped out in front of him after he had a few beers. His stories made the whole family laugh. He still didn’t get anywhere on time.

Lynn stood and pulled her backpack out from under our seats. Where do you suppose your dad is?

He’ll be along. I followed her and the rest of the girls off the bus. We hung around, waiting for the driver to open the luggage compartment. I reached in my pocket for my cell. No messages. I stepped away and pressed buttons, calling home. My younger brother answered. Mitch, it’s me. We’re at the Academy. Where’s Dad?

I don’t know. Mom reminded him a million times today that you’d be home this afternoon, Mitch said. He muttered something about leaving early and stopping by Gordy’s place.

I glared across the parking lot at the main office. I knew what that meant. Gordy and Dad had been buddies since they were kids. They’d undoubtedly gotten busy doing something and Dad forgot all about me. He did it whenever he and Gordy got together, so I ought to be used to it by now. I’m not. Where’s Connor?

Cutting Christmas trees with Timber Watkins, Mitch said. Do you want me to call him?

No! My older brother and Dad fought like tigers and when Connor heard about this, he’d freak. I didn’t need that hassle. I took a deep breath. I don’t have the number to call Gordy’s to remind Dad to come get us and he’s undoubtedly run out of minutes on his cell again. You do it. Then, call me back."

You got it. I’m glad you’re almost home. It’s been awful without you.

I know, I said and ended the call. I wondered what happened while I was away, then decided Mitch would tell me when I got home whether I wanted to hear it or not. He had a good brain, but he only turned ten this past summer and he didn’t always think first.

What happened? Lynn came toward me, pulling our suitcases behind her. Is he on the way?

I shrugged again, putting on my no problem act. Dad told Mitch that he might stop by a friend’s on the way here. Mitch is going to call and see if Dad’s still there. He probably left late.

I was lying, but it was better than telling the truth. No way could I tell Lynn that we’d been stranded and might not even have a ride home. I’m used to being left places and looking after myself. I’ve done it for years since I was younger than Mitch. Lynn hasn’t. And now, she had to put up with this garbage today.

Don’t worry, Darcy. He’ll be here any time. I’ll get the rest of our stuff. Be right back.

I nodded. I’ll wait here for Mitch to call back.

She stalked across the parking lot. I could tell she was irritated by the stiffness in her back. I wished her dad was the one who agreed to pick us up. Dr. Jed never forgot us or was too busy at work to come when he said he would. My phone vibrated, and I answered. Hello? Mitch?

Darcy, Dad isn’t at Gordy’s. He left ages ago. Mom’s gone to Costco and she’s not answering her cell. I can ride around town on my bike and see if I can find Dad.

Don’t you dare! There are too many busy streets and it’s almost dark. When I wanted to pick on Mitch, I called him, ‘Shrimp.’ It wasn’t a joke. He was shorter than all the other boys in his fourth-grade class. You stay home. I’ll work this out.

I called all the taverns. Nobody’s seen Dad.

Then he’s on the way here, I told my brother. I prayed I was right, that I was telling the truth, but I knew I was lying. I had to keep Mitch safe. You hang out at home and call me as soon as Mom or Connor or Dad shows up. Okay? Lynn and I will walk down to Parthenon’s and grab some pasta. We’re starving. Tell whoever comes to pick us up there and I’ll call you back.

All right. Mitch heaved a huge sigh like I was picking on him. You win, Madame Worry-wart.

He hung up before I told him if he didn’t take chances, I wouldn’t lose it. I’d taken care of him since I was seven and he was a newborn baby. Somebody had to, and Mom was too busy looking after Dad. And I really didn’t want Mitch riding his bike all over Pine Ridge trying to find our father when he was probably hanging out at one of the local taverns. I sure wasn’t going to start calling those.

I hastily called the veterinary clinic and got the answering machine. Wonderful! I didn’t bother to leave a message. Nobody would get it until early tomorrow morning when the clinic opened on Monday. I could have told Dr. Jed if he picked up. He never yelled at me, not even when I made a mistake. I wasn’t about to make a recorded announcement we’d been forgotten.

What’s up? Lynn asked, arriving with our red cheerleading duffels.

He’s not at Gordy’s, so he must be at Parthenon’s getting pizza for Sunday dinner, I lied. Let’s go there.

Okay, I’m ready to eat. It’s been forever since we stopped for lunch.

We waved at a couple other girls. We grabbed our bags, then headed off down the hill like we had somewhere to go. I breathed a sigh of relief when Ms. Olson didn’t see us. She was responsible for us and if she knew we’d been abandoned, she’d have opened up the school and called all over town too, starting with Dr. O’Malley, the vice-principal. The big thing was to avoid being embarrassed in front of everyone.

When we got to the restaurant, of course, none of my family was there which meant Mitch still hadn’t heard from any of them. Lynn and I left our stuff in one of the booths and went to clean up. I ran a brush through my long golden-brown hair. Then, I added more mascara to my already dark lashes. I flicked a couple hairs off my red cheerleader sweater, grateful Ms. Olson told us to wear our dark blue slacks instead of the short tartan skirts. At least, I wasn’t freezing.

With her curly red hair, big green eyes and model’s figure, Lynn looked as if she belonged in a fashion magazine, not as if she was the Senior Class President of Stewart Falls Academy. We studied together all the time and usually tied for top student in our classes. Once we were up to our usual standards, we headed back out to our booth.

Zelda, the owner of Parthenon Pizza, had brought over mugs of hot chocolate while we hogged her bathroom. She was a fifty-something woman with dyed blonde hair, wearing a big white apron over her clothes. The name printed in giant red letters across her huge boobs read Zelda. All smiles, she handed us menus. Pizza or pasta, ladies? How was your trip?

Wonderful. Lynn chatted with her while we debated and settled on a super-combo, deep dish pie. So, are you going to be one of the sponsors for the food drive this year?

You bet. We have to help each other through hard times. Zelda wrote down our order and sauntered in the direction of the kitchen. Bring me some posters this week.

While we waited, Lynn and I talked about the food drive. Classes would compete for prizes and so would the different grades. Of course, the winner would be the local food bank and people who needed the holiday baskets. We managed to put together and deliver two hundred last year, but this season, we wanted to double that.

Abbie Watkins, our cheer co-captain, had put Lynn and me in charge of publicity. Somehow, we had to get Stewart Falls jacked up about the Academy’s holiday activities. It wouldn’t do any good to look for contributions from Pine Ridge where I lived. The public schools had their own drive and their cheer squad had been papering the community with banners and posters since they started right after Halloween.

When we finished eating, I tried Mitch again. Nobody was home yet. I think you better call your dad, Lynn.

He’ll be mad about this, Darce. Last spring when it happened, he yelled at your dad. You didn’t get to help at the clinic for two weeks, not until Dr. O’Malley told your parents you’d fail your core classes if you didn’t finish the Junior project.

I’ll do my Senior project, anyway. I lifted my chin. What can they do? Ground me? They’d have to pick us up first.

Good point. A faint smile crept across her face as she pulled out her own cell. The smile faded when he answered. She listened, agreed to something, then clicked off her phone. "He’s out on a call. I don’t go to Equine Nation on Sundays so we could have gone with my dad and helped if your dad bothered to pick us up on time. We’d have learned a lot too since it’s a cow with a breech birth."

TWO

Lynn was pissed, and I didn’t blame her. She got up and stomped off to the bathroom. While she was gone, Zelda came back with our leftovers neatly boxed up. She studied me for a long minute, brown eyes concerned. Then she asked. What’s going on, Darcy?

My dad forgot to pick us up, I reluctantly admitted. I don’t know what to do.

And Lynn?

She’s mad because we missed out on an emergency call with her dad. A cow having trouble calving.

Zelda nodded, then patted my shoulder. Don’t worry, honey. Animals always find ways to hurt themselves, especially on Sundays. You two can go save the day next time. Now, we need to find you a ride home to Pine Ridge. I can take you at ten when I close up.

I hope we don’t have to wait that long, I said, but the local buses don’t run on Sundays.

No and in this economy, I don’t deliver pizzas on Sunday nights either. There isn’t enough business for me to keep the driver busy, so I cut his hours, Zelda said. More hot chocolate?

Yes, please.

Zelda headed off to the kitchen, just as Lynn returned.

I’m sorry, I said. Don’t be mad at me. I can’t handle that. You’re my best friend.

It’s not your fault, Darcy. She slid in beside me and hugged me. We’re forever. You know that. I just hate missing out. And a cow? It would have been awesome. All I do with Dr. Larry is horses.

I drew a deep breath, grateful we were still friends. I didn’t know what I’d do without Lynn and her dad in my life. Things would be impossible. I always feel sorry for the animals.

Dad says he does too, but he has to remember it’s his job to help first. He can feel bad for them later.

Zelda put down two cups of hot cocoa with extra whipped cream in front of us. Drink up. I just got an order from Pine Ridge Community Church. I know Reverend Holbrook will give you girls a ride home.

Yes, he will. Thanks so much for arranging it. Lynn gushed all over her until Zelda bustled off to catch a ringing phone.

Well, that’s going to suck, I whispered. He’ll try to reform my dad again and that always makes life awful around my house.

Yeah, but maybe the Reverend won’t say anything to anyone until next week’s services, Lynn said. By then, somebody else could have done something stupid for him to preach about. The local loggers love to bust heads around the holidays.

I hope you’re right. I stirred the whipped cream into the chocolate. I’m so sorry my dad bailed on us.

It’s okay, Darcy, Lynn said again. Next time we go anywhere, we’ll either take my car or get my dad to do all the driving. I just didn’t want to leave the Jeep in the school parking lot over the weekend. We won’t depend on the Gallatins for anything. Deal?

Deal!

The bell on the door rang, and I looked over my shoulder in time to see Scott Holbrook. He’d been friends with Lynn and me since third grade. Things had changed from back when we used to catch frogs in the swamp behind the church. Now, Scott’s tall, blond and a real hunk or so he claimed. A couple weeks ago, he asked me to go to the movies with him. I wasn’t ready for that, so I told him I had more important things to do.

But wow, he looked terrific in ripped blue jeans, and a dark blue Stewart Falls Academy sweatshirt that matched his cobalt eyes. The butterflies in my tummy started to dance and I was grateful Ms. Olson wouldn’t let us dress down for the trip home. Cheerleaders always had to look their best to represent the school.

Hey, Darcy. He walked over to our booth. Hi, Lynn. What’s going on?

I caught him grinning at us. That ridiculous, goofy smile that could make a person think she was the center of his world. He was good-looking. Most of the girls at the Academy said he was the greatest, but he doesn’t tease them in science class about doing ‘catch and release’ on frogs.

He sat down across from us. So, you’re missing out on tonight’s activities. Ariel Abrams, the newest, hottest cheerleader from Pine Ridge High, decided the church youth group should help with the school food drive. And we ought to have a competition between the high schools.

I nearly choked on my hot chocolate and Lynn sputtered into hers. Come on, Scott, I said. You know she’s just jerking her step-sister, Rita Fernandez’s chain.

Yeah, but my dad’s going off about what a terrific girl she is and why don’t I date someone like her. I’m so glad you’re home to save me, Doc Darcy.

Yeah, like that’s going to happen, I said. If you want her, you can have her.

No. He shuddered, shook his head, and flashed that grin at me again. No. Anything but that.

I had to laugh. Okay, you can tell your dad I won’t share you. And he’ll totally freak. He has bigger plans for you than one of the Gallatin girls who are known sluts.

Stop it, Doc. You’re different from your cousins and you know it. So does he. This may come as a surprise to both of you, but he’s a human being, Doc, not a saint.

Scott got up and went to take four huge cardboard cartons from Zelda. Then he followed her to the cash register. When we got there, he was paying for our dinner too. Lynn protested, but he ignored her. He took the pizzas out to the Ford 250 before he came back and grabbed our bags. Before we knew it, she was in the back seat of the super-cab, and I was in the front next to him.

I didn’t complain. I knew what it was about. If he wanted his dad to think we were together, it had to look that way. We dropped Lynn at her place first and she wriggled her little finger at me, our secret signal I was supposed to call her later. I would, even if she only wanted to ask about Scott.

Next, we swung by the church, and I waited in his pickup while he ran in with the pizzas. He was back in minutes, a smug smile on his face. I so majorly owe you, Doc. I’ll buy you mochas all week.

You don’t have to do that, I said.

Okay, then I’ll help you with all your animals as soon as we get to your house.

I shook my head. He wasn’t fooling me. He really didn’t want to return to the youth group at the church. Come on. Are they that bad?

No, but all that goody-goody stuff just grates on my nerves, Scott said. It wouldn’t be so bad if they came all year, but it’s only around the holidays, between Halloween and New Year’s. Don’t they think people are cold or hungry or homeless the other ten months of the year?

Good point. I leaned back in the seat. I think I’ll ask Abbie if we can’t do a food drive in the spring before graduation. Then we’ll know the food bank’s okay for the summer.

That earned me another of his smiles. I nearly said I wasn’t doing it for him, but for people who were dealing with hard times. Only I knew he already understood and that was why he was happy. It took longer by road to reach my house. Usually, Scott and I just cut through the woods between our places.

He pulled up in front of the single-story ranch. Dad called it a pay-day house because my great-grandparents added onto it whenever they had the money. Scott walked around and grabbed my suitcase and duffel. We headed up the gravel walkway to the front door. My dogs got off the porch and came to greet us, Winner bouncing and barking like he was on springs. He dashed toward me, then raced back to grab the flexible flying disc Scott bought him last week.

Toy in his mouth, the young heeler-border collie bolted toward me, a black and white dancing whirlwind. Behind him, the older rough-coated gold and white collie strolled stately, his wagging tail the only evidence that he was just as happy. I leaned down to pet Winner and flung the orange plastic disc. He tore away in hot pursuit. I rumpled Terhune’s white collie ruff. He whined and leaned against me, tail still in motion. I knew he’d missed me as much as I did him.

I unlocked the door, and we went inside. Hi, I called from the entry. I’m here.

No answer. No Mitch. Where was he? He couldn’t be in his camp out in the woods. Not in late November. I turned and took my stuff from Scott. Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.

Okay. He headed on into the living-room. I’ll check the woodstove.

Thanks. Followed by the excited dogs, I went into the kitchen on the way to my bedroom. I checked Mitch’s on the way. Empty. Where was that boy?

I put the suitcase and duffel on my bed. I’d unpack later. I changed into jeans, a t-shirt and sweatshirt. And okay, so even though I knew better, I stopped long enough to brush my hair again, dab on some blush and more lip gloss. I could see the excitement in my face and hazel eyes. I hoped Scott didn’t. Finally, grabbing a pair of heavy socks from the top drawer, I hurried back toward the living room, with the dogs as eager escorts.

Scott closed the door to the woodstove when I came in and adjusted the dampers. Mitch hasn’t been gone more than an hour. The fire still had a log left.

Great detective work, Sherlock. I had to smile at him.

I thought so, Holmes. Shall we go hit the barn?

Works for me. We paused in the kitchen, and I put on the boot socks, then grabbed two plastic grocery bags. I stuck my left foot in the first one, then put the second bag on the right one. My rubber boots had sprung a leak before I left, and I didn’t have time to get to the Co-Op for a new pair. Scott didn’t say anything about it. He was over by the coat rack, getting my denim jacket and the old baseball cap he’d given me.

Outside, I stopped on the side porch and picked up the empty dog dishes. I’d feed them later. Their water bucket was still full. Onto the chickens. Turning on the lights in their house roused the hens. They clucked and squawked from where they roosted by the roof, while Scott filled the troughs with laying mash and corn. I collected the eggs—three days’ worth in the nesting boxes. Didn’t anybody else live here or do anything?

I left the basket of eggs in the feed room once we got to the barn and headed for the light switches, almost falling over the three cats in the process. Scott had filled their dish by the time I turned around. I’m glad you’re here. This would be awful without you.

You’d get it done. He winked at me. You always do, babe.

Before I could say anything, I heard footsteps up in the hay loft. Ten-year-old Mitch rushed down the ladder, almost falling from the middle rung. Be careful, I called.

He flung himself against me. You’re here. You’re finally here!

I staggered back a step, caught myself and hugged him. Yeah, I told you I was in Stewart Falls when I called. What’s up? Where is everybody?

They’re all mad at me. He sniffled, tears shining in the dark brown eyes before he pulled away a moment. He wiped his runny nose with the back of a hand. Aren’t you?

Why would I be? I rocked him the way I had when he was little. I’m just glad you’re not out riding your bike in the dark.

But you told me not to, Mitch said. I always try to do what you say, Darcy.

Yeah, but you’re a guy. I rumpled his black hair. Sometimes, you can’t help yourself, and I know I’m bossy.

Yeah, you can say that again, Scott said. It takes some getting used to. Right, Mitch?

Right. He pulled away again. What are you guys doing?

Chores, I said. They’re my life. So, where are Mom and Dad?

Mom got mad because you called so many times for a ride. And I talked back and said what were you supposed to do when nobody came? And then she yelled at Dad, and he got all huffy and left. And then Connor said they shouldn’t have had kids because they never wanted to take care of them and he stormed out to go find you and Lynn and —

You ran away, I finished. Smart thinking. I probably would have too.

It was all my fault the whole family is mad and fighting again, Mitch said.

I gave him one last hug. No, it’s not.

Anyway, everybody who lives in Pine Ridge knows that fighting is what Gallatins do best next to drinking, Mitch, Scott said.

I gave him a stern look, then turned to my brother. Don’t worry. It won’t happen again. Lynn and I agreed when we need a ride, we’ll get her dad or use her Jeep.

You have your license, Doc. You can always use my truck, Scott told me.

Really? Your personal, private truck? I teased. The one you saved for since you were younger than Mitch? The one you park clear across the student lot so nobody can breathe on it?

Yup, that’s the one.

Mitch relaxed, all his worries gone now that I was home to make the world right. Had anyone ever done that for me? Tried to solve my problems and fix things for me? Why didn’t I remember it?

Should I drop the bale of hay? Mitch asked. There’s only one, and it’s feeder alfalfa, not the kind Whisky is supposed to have.

Yeah, I said, drop it.

He was up the ladder in a heartbeat.

Gawd, I wished I could divorce my family—well all of them but Mitch. He tried to please me, to be a good kid. I’d gone away for three days, and Dad was too busy to bring in a load of hay for the stupid beef calves he was raising to sell for slaughter. It had taken a miracle for Connor to remember to feed the pigs last year, and as for the chickens, they were supposed to belong to my mom.

I glanced at Scott who fussed over the hose and the water faucet. Nobody can take that long to fill a water dish for cats. Say what’s on your mind, Preacher.

He came over to me, rested his hands on my shoulders. I’d do anything for you, babe. And right now, I’m gonna go get you a couple bales of hay so you can feed your horse tonight and in the morning.

I tried hard to smile, biting back my