“Omar! Put Sampson back in his cage, or I’ll sell him to a band of gypsies.” Jonah yelled to his son.
Micah snickered at his brother’s threat to the hamster–he used a variation of the one their mother had often used on them. Only Mom had threatened to sendthemto the gypsies. “At least you didn’t threaten to sell Omar.” His nephew had red hair like his mother and too many freckles to count. Though he loved to tell Micah that he got a new one and show him the spot on his arm or leg when they video chatted on Sunday evenings.
Jonah huffed. “What can I say? I’m a softie. What are you guys doing tonight?”
Micah panicked. There was no way he would tell Jonah about his not-a-date making cookies with a beautiful woman. “Holiday baking–cookies,” he grunted.
Jonah scoffed. “Since when do you bake?”
“Since I’m a dad now.” He glanced at Lizzie. She had her hands over her head like a ballerina and turned in careful circles. He hadn’t asked for a daughter, but he got one anyway, and it was the best thing that ever happened to him.
“How’s that going?” Jonah pressed. As the older brother, he often checked in. He’d always watched out for Micah, but when Mom passed away three years ago, the pressure to keep the family close weighed heavily on Jonah.
“Not too bad. She’s picked up this imaginary pet–she pretends to carry it around everywhere we go. Calls it Wishy.” He scrubbed his cheek. “Is that normal or am I deluding myself because I’m tired?”
“Totally normal,” Jonah assured him. “Reba had an imaginary dog for half a year at one point. Woofie.”
“I think I fed Woofie goldfish crackers once,” said Micah with a smile.
“Probably. He wouldn’t eat anything else.” Jonah paused. “Mom used to bake a lot during the holidays. I’m glad you guys are making something.”
Feeling the sentimentality creeping in, Micah tried to get Jonah to talk about his favorite subject. “I’ll bet Cindy has your place stocked.”
“She’s incredible,” Jonah agreed, his voice full of awe. “I can’t imagine life without her. She’s the center of this home. I mean, I tease her that I’m the one that holds it all together, but without her, we’d be heartless.”
Micah’s eyebrows jumped. Jonah tended to get poetic when it came to the love of his life. “Heartless? What does that even mean?”
Jonah laughed. “If you’d ever been in love, you’d know. Cindy is the heart of our home. She’s the well of love and light that overflows and lifts us all.”
“Wow.” Micah griped. He didn’t have a Cindy, but their home was doing just fine.
“Do you remember when Ma made us wrap all those books for Christmas?” Jonah was back on the Memory Train.
This time, Micah softened a little. “It was for the gift exchange. Thanks to Santa, every kid in the school got a new book that year.”
“Three-hundred and seventy-two books.”
“With ribbon!” Micah scowled at the memory of curling ribbon for days.
“And there were, like, thirty copies ofSanta’s New Suit.”
“What was with that book?” Micah lamented. He was caught up in the memory of late nights with Mom and Jonah wrapping books until his fingers were numb. Mom insisted every gift looked beautiful because every child was special and deserved a lovely gift. He never complained about the task because it was the three of them against a mountain, and they conquered every year. Maybe his mom made them do it because it brought them closer together.
There was a pause. “I miss her,” Jonah admitted. “Christmas was her thing.”
Micah noted the time. If they didn’t get a move on, they’d be late. “She was an elementary school teacher and then principal–every holiday was a big deal.” He beeped the horn, and Lizzie turned to look at him. He motioned for her to come. She skipped to the car. “We need to get moving. Are you good? Everything good?” This was their regular goodbye routine. A last check to make sure there wasn’t some kind of news or event the other should be aware of. When Micah told Jonah about Lizzie, it was on a final check-in.
“Yeah. You?”
“Yep. Can’t wait to bake up some cookies,” he deadpanned.
Jonah’s booming laugh filled the car as Lizzie opened the door and climbed into her booster. “I’ll bet. Catch you later.”
“Bye, Uncle Jonah!” Lizzie called.
“Bye, Lizzie-gizzie,” he replied.
She covered her mouth and giggled at his silly name for her.
