Jude is beside me, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a bag of wrapped gifts in the other. At his feet, his new rescue dog Duke’s tail is wagging so hard his entire back end sways. The big shepherd mix has filled out since Jude adopted him a few weeks ago. His coat is glossy now, his ribs no longer visible, and he’s attached himself to Jude with a devotion that borders on obsessive. The feeling is mutual. Jude talks to that dog like he’s a person.
“Shoes off, boys,” Mom calls from the kitchen before we’ve even closed the door.
I frown. “Since when do we have to take our shoes off?”
“Since I got new carpet. Didn’t you notice?” Mom appears a second later, wiping her hands on her apron. “Do you need glasses? It’s a completely different beige. This is called Winter Wheat and the old carpet was called Summer Flax. ”
“It’s very nice,” Jude murmurs, but I can tell he doesn’t see a difference either.
I grunt. “It looks exactly like the other carpet.”
“Oh, he’s blind, isn’t he Duke?” Mom drops to her knees to greet Duke. “How’s my handsome grandson doing today?”
“Mom, he’s a dog,” I say. “Maybe you’re the one who needs glasses.”
“He’s not a dog, he’s family.” She scratches behind Duke’s ears and he melts against her, tail thumping the carpet. She looks up at Jude and smiles. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart. Sorry, I got distracted by Duke.”
“Merry Christmas… Mom.” She insisted he call her Mom. The word still comes out a little self-conscious from him, but she beams every time he says it. He leans down and kisses her cheek, showing her the wine. “Liam picked this one. Blame him if it’s bad.”
“It won’t be bad. Liam has good taste.” She winks at Jude. “Obviously.”
“Oh, you’re smooth, Mom.” I laugh.
Once Jude and I have drinks, we find Dad in the living room by the fire, settled into his recliner with a glass of something amber. The tree is in the corner, a big Douglas fir strung with colored lights and ornaments that span decades. Some of them Jack and I made in elementary school, lopsided clay stars and popsicle stick reindeer. Mom refuses to retire any of them.
“Merry Christmas, son.” Dad rises and hugs me, then pulls Jude into a brief hug that no longer catches him off guard. “Jude. Good to see you.”
“You too, Marco.”
“Dog’s getting fat,” Dad observes, watching Duke sniff his way around the living room with great interest.
Jude shakes his head. “Ninety percent of that is fur.”
Dad rubs his jaw. “He’s housetrained, right? Viv is very protective of her new carpet.”
“He’s housetrained,” Jude says. “Not one accident since I got him.”
“He did eat one of my best running shoes though,” I volunteer.
Jude sighs. “You left them on the floor. I told you not to do that until we knew if he liked eating shoes or not. Why do you always bring that up? I bought you a new pair.”
“I bring it up so that I get sympathy.”
Jude laughs. “You don’t deserve sympathy. The new shoes I got you are actually way nicer than your old ones.”
“Oh, I’m well aware.” I smirk. “I’m trying to get Duke to eat my old cowboy boots too so you’ll buy me a nicer pair of those as well.”
“You’re shameless.” Jude rolls his eyes.
Dad chuckles and settles back into his recliner. Duke finishes his inspection of the room and parks himself at Jude’s feet, leaning against his leg. Jude automatically drops a hand to the dog’s head.
Jack arrives twenty minutes later with a woman I’ve never seen before. She’s tall, athletic, with dark skin and short natural hair. Her smile is wide and easy, and when Jack introduces her as Priya, she shakes my hand with a firm grip.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she says. “Jack says you’re the younger brother from Hell and I shouldn’t listen to anything you say.”
“All lies,” I assure her. “I’m an angel. Always have been.”
Jude raises his brows, but says nothing.
