“I said,” she sighed loudly, disgruntled that I had positively not been listening, “we have decided to embrace all of these lovely human traditions The Santa’s mate has brought with him, and we are having Thanksgiving dinner this year. Most of your siblings will be here. Well, Zion and Zeb can’t make it. They are traipsing around…somewhere. Honestly, I can’t remember what nonsense they are up to or in what realm.”
“At least they make an effort to call,” my dad’s deep baritone cut in. “Even when they are halfway around the world. Of course, their job isn’t as important as yours, but you do live in the same village as us.”
“Now, Atlas,” Mom soothed softly, “We said we weren’t going to guilt trip him.”
“Hmmfff,” Dad hummed into the phone. Obviously, I wasn’t the only one utilizing the speaker, so I had better make sure to not insult any of my siblings. Some of those younger ones lived for tattling.
“You’re cooking Thanksgiving dinner?” I was suspicious knowing neither of my parents cooked. Well, not well anyway.
“I said so, didn't I?” Now her annoyed tone was in her words and not just her sighs.
Since I couldn’t very well admit to not having been listening, I said nothing.
“Anyway, we would love it if you could stop by for some dessert,” Mom continued, “I’ve ordered some pies from the Village restaurant. Pumpkin, apple, and something else. Oh, I can’t remember. Atlas, what did I order?”
“I don’t know, Fallon, I wasn’t with you, now was I?”
Since this kind of conversation could go on for a while with my parents, I cut in, “I’m not sure. I’m pretty busy, I have dinner already planned with–”
“Yes, yes, with the Kringles,” Mom tsked. “I’ve already spoken to Oliver and Keegan, and they said they are planning dinner for noon so there shouldn’t be a problem with you having dessert with us. Keegan said he was going to insist, in fact.”
Oh, Keegan did, did he?That little, ginger human omega and I were going to have words about this.
“And Keegan said the workshop is closed from Thanksgiving until Monday,” Mom continued, effectively thwarting my next excuse of having to work. “He said everyone was expected to enjoy the holiday, and that included you.”
Pursing my lips into a tight line, I muttered, “Did he?”
“He did.” Mom was certainly an elf on a mission today, and I was strongly regretting answering this call. “So, we’ll expectyou between five and six for some pie. Oh, and Balfour, wear something nice. I’ve invited our pretty neighbor. She is just lovely and she’s single. You’re not getting any younger, you know, and we would like grandchildren soon.”
Blinking rapidly, I was sure the neurons in my brain were rapidly misfiring. Did my mother just basically tell me she had fixed me up on a blind date? On Thanksgiving?
What the actual mistletoe?!
“You have grandchildren,” I reminded her, while searching my brain to remember if that was actually true. Surely one of my siblings in the last four hundred years had spawned? Didn’t I get some kind of birth announcement in the mail about a hundred years ago from…who the fuck had sent it? One of my brothers, I was almost positive.
“It’s not the same,” Mom told me, explaining in what could only be some kind of strange mom logic, “It’s different when it’s your firstborn’s child, and you, my wonderful son, are our first born. So, let’s get on with this, shall we?”
That was going to be a hard pass on that. Kids were…not my thing. Sure, I was the head elf in Santa’s workshop, and I was in charge of The List, but that didn’t mean I necessarily liked kids. They were okay, but I didn’t want any of my own.
Kacey was about the only kid I could tolerate for any amount of time. Kacey had stolen my heart the minute she had been born and had yet to give it back. The same thing happened when her baby brother was born. They were the two exceptions to kids I could tolerate to be around for more than five minutes.
It was why I avoided my parents’ house. There were too many kids…everywhere. Talking, yelling, crying, running, wanting attention all the time. Just thinking about it made me cringe.
No, thank you.
“Mom, do not fix me up on blind dates.” I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Why? Are you seeing someone?” She sounded way too hopeful at the prospect.
As elves we didn’t have fated mates like the shifters on earth did. No, we tended to find our special person and then we stayed with them for hundreds of years. Basically, mated for life.For life!Just thinking about it made me nearly break out in hives. I had yet to meet anyone I could endure for more than a few months, let alone consider spending hundreds and hundreds of years with. But my mom and dad thought all their children should be as blissfully happy as they were, and they weren’t above ambushing any of us with potential prospects.
Fuck, fuck, fucking tinsel on a tree!
And before I even knew what my mouth was blurting out, I answered, “Yes! I’m seeing someone!”
Oh, what the ever-loving mistletoe had I just done?
“Atlas! Atlas! Did you hear?”
