Now that he and Charlotte have bonded, it would cause her pain, and I’m not about hurting her.
Him? He could do with a little suffering, but I’ll have to find sneaky ways to torture him.
Ways that won’t impact Charlotte.
That’s the only reason Patrick is still alive to sport that cocky smile he wears all through breakfast.
Lucky is anxious to get to the present part of Christmas, and I can’t blame him. I remember what it was like waiting to finally dig in on Christmas morning.
Malachy and I hand out everyone’s presents. There’s a distinct lack of gifts for the three of us—even Miriam has a decent-size pile—but we understood the assignment.
Charlotte and Lucky will be spoiled this year.
I got the feeling Miriam wanted to give us time to celebrate as a family, but I assume she’ll be by once she and Seamus exchange their own gifts.
Even thinking of the five of us as a family is a bit of a foreign concept. Though it’s a good adjustment to have to get used to.
The omega now sports claiming bites from both my brothers, and although I know it’s not a race, I am beginning to feel a twinge left out. I intend to rectify that soon, possibly as my reward forfinallybreaking McCarthy.
That son of a bitch is stubborn, but his time is coming.
Charlotte kneels on the floor, watching her son rip into his first gift. She helps gather the wrapping paper, shoving it into the garbage bag she asked for before coming into the room.
I have the overwhelming urge to tell her not to worry about cleaning up as he goes.
This is her Christmas too.
We can all chip in to tidy up once everyone is done opening. However, I don’t want to embarrass her.
Malachy sits in one of the club chairs, recording, while Patrick moves around the room, snapping pictures. It’s actually rather a sweet domestic moment.
Striding over, I squat down next to her and Lucky.
“Why don’t you start opening a few of yours?” I grab the trash bag from where it rests next to her on the floor. “I’ll take over clean-up duty for a bit.”
“He’s going to make a big mess,” she says, smiling tightly.
“That’s part of the magic of Christmas morning.” I cradle her face in my hand and lean in, giving her a quick kiss. “The joy for Malachy, Patrick, and me will be watching the two of you open your goodies. Relax, love. Settle in and enjoy yourself.” I nuzzle my nose to hers and pull back, moving to grab the box Lucky tosses aside as he rips out his next gift.
“Oh my god,” he says, making me chuckle. Charlotte wasn’t wrong when she mentioned he repeats everything he hears said by one of us. We’ll all need to clean up our language. “Mommy! Look at my dump truck! It’s a block kit.”
“Yes, the bottom of our feet will never be safe again, but the age on that type of Lego is for two years plus.” Patrick chuckles. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ll help you put it together, if you need help.”
“I want to play with it right now!” Lucky says, his head bobbing up and down.
“You’ve got a whole lot left to go,” Malachy says from behind me. “Open a few more, and you can spend this afternoon playing ’til your heart’s content.”
My gaze meets Charlotte’s. “You’ve got backup now. We’ll all help out with him. Open your gifts.”
Her eyes glitter as her teeth dig into her lower lip. “Thank you.”
I believe she might be on the verge of shedding a few tears, but that’s okay too. I can’t imagine how hard the last few years have been for her. Even the thought of her and Lucky at their old apartment, just the two of them on Christmas, makes my chest tight.
I’m not emotional by nature, but there’s no way Lucky was buying gifts for her at his age, and I’m sure she overlooked spending money on herself to be able to splurge for him.
I can’t begin to guess how lonely she was as the only adult during the holidays. Every bit of cooking, cleaning, and planning fell on her, just so he could enjoy the holiday.
It also makes me realize how much I’ve taken my brothers for granted. We tend to go our own ways, but we always come together for Christmas Eve dinner, breakfast on Christmas morning, and to exchange a few small gifts at some point during the day.
