“Fucking Santa. Creepy man breaking into houses,” Samson murmurs. “I always hope his sleigh crashes.”
“God, can he stop being such a grump?” Harley moans, socking Samson in the shoulder. “Why do you have to be such a downer all the time? Who raised you?”
“Father, which is why I’m such a fuddy-duddy.”
“Never say that word again,” Harley says with a loud laugh. “What the fuck?”
“Fuddy. Duddy, you piece of shit,” Samson says, producing a knifefrom his pocket and pointing it at Harley. “Christmas sucks. It did when we were younger, and it does now. If it were up to me, I’d take that Christmas tree out back and set it on fire.”
Neo giggles as he drinks some eggnog that Jules handed him. It’s spiked; I’m sure of it.
It’s a family tradition that we decorate the Buckingham estate together. It’s something we promised each other when our father died.
That no matter how he tried to isolate us, we would come together on this holiday.
Samson wanted us to get together on No Pants Day, but we all vetoed it.
Firstly, we didn’t want to see each other with no pants on, and secondly, is that even a real holiday anyway?
“How are you feeling with this chaos?” I ask.
“I love it,” Neo sighs. “It’s weirdly comforting.”
That makes my lungs expand in happiness. I’m so fucking relieved, because when Brennan arrived with the Christmas tree, Neo’s eyes went wide. When Harley grinned and announced that we’d be decorating the entire house, Neo looked at me, his face falling.
“Are they sure they want me to help?” he asked me.
I cocked my head, not realizing the significance of this moment for him. But the longer the wheels of my mind spun, I realized that Neo never had a family to spend Christmas with. That if he ever did celebrate this holiday, it was with Ansel in that shitty apartment.
It was in that moment that I reached out and took him roughly by the chin, forcing him to look at me.
“Yes. Believe me when I say they do. And more importantly, since you’re part of this family now, it’s required. You must bear this with me each year.”
Neo sniffled loudly at that, and Samson took that moment to try and chop down the tree by throwing his axe at it. It managed to get lodged in the wall instead.
That was enough to have Jules shoving an eggnog into Neo’shand, and for Harley to wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him toward the boxes of ornaments our family has collected over the years.
It’s one of the few things my mother enjoyed. It’s why I’ve kept them; they remind me of happier times.
It has nothing to do with my father.
“Well, I think this is a nice distraction since we can’t attack the Umbra until tomorrow,” Matthias says, and Cade nods, handing Neo another ornament. He’s sloppily placing them on the tree, mostly on one side, but none of us has the heart to say anything.
So we just let it be.
Because he seems happy. And if I’m honest, this is the first time I’ve felt happy around this holiday as well.
It was always something I had to do. Something I dreaded. The effort of putting on a show of being happy, of exchanging gifts I didn’t want to give.
But now I realize I’m looking forward to it. I’m looking forward to giving Neo something, to seeing his reaction as he opens up his gifts from me and the family.
I’m even looking forward to seeing what he’ll get me, and I normally hate receiving gifts.
My gaze is pulled to Samson, who is trying to frisbee a wreath into the fireplace, but he’s stopped by Harley, who tackles him to the ground.
“Don’t ruin the wreath! It’s a classic.”
“It’s growing mold,” Samson says as they fall to the couch and then onto the floor, Harley under Samson, his hands around his throat.
