“Look at you!” I marvel at the two tiny faces with their olive-toned flesh, those midnight black caps of hair, and those eyes—large cobalt swimming pools I’d love to dive into, and yes, without even the hint of a smile, all four dimples dip in and out over and over. Dear God, my heart melts anew each time I lay eyes on these boys, and oddly each time I do just that, it feels as if it’s all going by way too fast. Gone are their newborn frames with the frailty of brand new life, replaced with full cheeks, arms, and legs that show off yummy rolls of robust flesh. So sweet, so achingly small. I pick up Nathan and take in his powder fresh scent. “They lookfantastic.”
Mom touches a finger to each of their noses. “I hope you’ve been extra good! Mee-Maw and Tampa have a very special surprise foryou!”
Just as I’m about to spew out some lame quip about expanding that child cemetery in their bedroom, I’m stopped cold still trying to digest that moniker I’m assuming she’s relegated toTad.
“Did you saytampon?” Dear God, if I have to educate my mother on the many reasons hygienic social etiquette dictates this is a very bad idea, I will slap the two of them silly for thinking it ingenious. Or perhaps myself so I can finally wake up out of this nightmare it seems I’ve driftedinto.
She titters like a schoolgirl while leaning in. “It’s Tad-Paw, you know, like Paw-Paw, but Tad insisted his name be a part of it. Anyway, the kids can’t quite say it so, um, yes, he’s been answering to a name shared with a feminine product. I’m just sort of going with it.” She’s quick to wave itoff.
I hate to break it to her, but Tad has been the equivalent of a feminine product for several years now. In a way, it’s the universe calling it as she sees it. The whole world is sort of going withit.
“What an unfortunate turn of events,” I lament, and for the first time I mean it. Tad the tampon will never live this down. I might just make sure of itmyself.
“Speaking of unfortunate events.” She leans in. “Did you hear that horrible accident that happened this morning? It was right here on the corner. I heard some poor young girl didn’t survive. Can you imagine? Losing your child on Christmas?” She thrusts Barron into my face as if forcing me to face that painfulrealization.
“God, no, that’s just terrible. I feel for the poor girl, too.” As cliché as it sounds, life is the most precious gift, and to lose it when you have an entire lifetime ahead of you is truly a heartbreak. And sadly, I can imagine how it feels to lose a child so young. I lost Sage. And just like that, my grief factor goes upexponentially.
I take a few steps closer to the kitchen and a horrible sour scent eats away at my nose, but I’d swear it has nothing to do with the meal Emily is whippingup.
I lean in and whisper, “Why does it smell like Drake tap-danced all over this house with his bare feet?” I wrinkle my nose as the scent drills indeeper.
Mom waves it off with a chuckle. “That’s our new thing, right, Emily?” Crap. The last thing I wanted to do was insult the five-star chef that’s been making all of our culinary dreams come true as of late. My mother is a nightmare in the kitchen, and Emily is a hallelujah choir at the foot of the living throne. And now that she thinks I’ve insulted her, I’ll probably be relegated to eating crap cakes—quite literally—for the rest of my stay at the Landon house ofhorrors.
Mom clears her throat as if a major announcement is afoot. “We no longer use commercial cleaning products in the house. It’s all white vinegar, all the time! No chemicals. And it’s green! Wait?” She looks to Em, confused. “White vinegar is technically considered green, isn’t it?” She rolls her eyes. “You millennials and your lingo. I’ll never keep it straight.” Mom coos into Barron’s tiny little face, “Yes, you will be smelling Uncle Drake’s feet from here onout!”
“The Landon house.” I blow gently into Nathan’s little face, and he squirms happily. “The gift that keeps on giving,” I tease and Mom gives me a wet kiss on thecheek.
“And you know you loveit!”
“Because the alternative is living next door to Emma.” I give a quick wink, and we share a laugh on behalf of my monster-in-law. Dear God, that was harsh even by my own standards. It’s true. Gage somehow coerced me into using the payout that Ezrina and Nev gave me from the Gas Lab into buying a money pit smack next door to his mother. If that isn’t a sign of fatigue induced psychosis I don’t know whatis.
The doorbell rings, and an influx of guests flood in. My heart picks up pace because I know Gage will be here. I’m not exactly looking forward to seeing Logan either after that scuffle that broke out between us, but still, Gage has garnered the majority of my illwill.
My mother-in-law, Emma, swoops in smelling as if someone dipped her in frankincense and myrrh, and I can hardly breathe. She snaps up one twin and passes him off to my angel of a father-in-law, Barron, then quickly plucks the other out of my arms aswell.
“Merry Christmas to you, too,” I say under my breath as she waltzes to the living room with nary a holidaygreeting.
“She means well.” Barron comes in and plants a kiss on my cheek while holding his namesake. He winces at me as if anticipating an outburst. “I’m sorry about what happened last night. I don’t fully understand it. Gage won’t say a word. But if it’s strong enough to keep the two of you apart on the holiest night of the year, then this must be prettyserious.”
“Serious, indeed.” My voice quivers as I blink back tears. “Our boys will always come first.” There it is, the battle cry of every couple that’s on therocks.
Mom claps her hands and stomps her feet as if she’s at a hoedown. “This is a very casual buffet! Please take your plates, fill ’em to the brim, and find a seat wherever you like!” She speeds over to Emma and gives her a friendly tap over the shoulder, but judging by Emma’s sourpuss, you’d think my mother just initiated a throwdown. “It’s fair to say, last night went a little sideways. I’m sorry aboutthat.”
Sideways? I snort at thethought.
If by sideways she means death, murder, and betrayal, then she’s got thatright.
“Anyway, I’m toying with the idea of writing a cookbook. Casseroles are my specialty.” Mom stoops farther into her insanity, and Emma shoots me a quick glance as if asking for backup. As if. I hope my mother torments her for a good long stretch of the evening. It’s all her son’s fault I had zero sleep last night. And it’s all her son’s fault I’ll spend the rest of my days in bitter tears. Mom goes on and on. “Oh, and the broths! The broths I coulddo.”
My stomach churns at the thought of that dirty sock juice she’s been known to conjure, and I’m quick to lose myself in thecrowd.
Bodies continue to flood in—Marshall, who I actually manage to smile at, and Demetri, sans his demented niece. Thank God for small miracles, but still, Demetri. I look past the two of them at the door gaping open, letting the fog seep in like an unwanted guest, and then finally Laken and her husband, Coop. Only Laken doesn’t come in. She simply wags a bag at me from the entrance. Her caramel-colored hair is in perfect ringlets, and her lips are painted a cheery holiday red. Laken is a stunner on an average day, but putting in a little effort lands her to supermodel heights. And Coop, well, he reminds me so much of Logan my bonesache.
I speed over and pull them into a grouphug.
“Come in.” I step back, trying my best to coax theminside.
“We can’t.” Laken makes a face, but I manage to lead them deeper into the foyer. “Dr. Booth and my mother are having us over. I just wanted to make sure you had all you need.” Dr. Booth was once my psychiatrist, but as fate would have it, we’re just friends now and he’s dating Laken’s mother. She hands the gift bag to me between pinched fingers as if she were handing off a dirty diaper, and considering she knows it’s for Chloe, it probably amounts to the same thing. “That was some christening last night.” She glances to Coop. “We’ll get together soon and figure out what to do about those rogue Videns. We can’t have Spectators running around the planet. Mass hysteria is something we don’t want. And for sure we don’t want to piss off the government.” Spectators is the official-unofficial name of those zombie-like creatures Demetri has transformed the Viden youth into. I’d give anything to reverse the effects on those poor people and turn Demetri into the one and only zombiecoot.
