“You’d think on Christmas Eve, everyone would be asleep, excited to wake up and open presents. No, apparently everyone likes to get hammered and drive home.”
“Oh no.” I let go of him so he can pour his coffee.
“I had four DUIs by midnight,” he says. “Four!”
“Well, at least you got them.” I shrug, taking a sip of coffee and trying to stay positive.
“People are just stupid.” He shakes his head.
“We know any of them?” Cody asks, entering the kitchen for more coffee.
“Yeah. That big guy that sits on the back pew, tattoo on his neck, ponytail?” Mason rambles off and Cody blanks, as do I.
“Ponytail?” Cody questions.
“Neck tattoo?” I add.
“Oh, c’mon you guys. Back pew, left side?”
Cody and I exchange a look of uncertainty.
“You guys would be terrible cops!” Mason huffs with a headshake and walks into the living room. “Youguys know who I’m talking about? Back pew, ponytail, tattoo?” He looks at Dad.
“Yeah. Kevin?” Dad says. “What about him?”
“Well,” Mason scoffs, “let’s just say he won’t be at church Sunday morning. He blew a .20 Breathalyzer.”
“Oh no.” Mom gasps.
“That’s a lot of beer, no?” Dad suggests.
“Yeah, said he had eleven, minus the one he had just cracked open ten minutes before I found him.” Mason shakes his head.
And that’s why I do not like being out late, especially on holidays or any occasion where people might be drinking.
Jesse and Ella traipse in the house carrying presents, snow sticking to their clothes and hair.
Ella is still very pregnant, but she jumps in to help Mom and me in the kitchen right away. The guys are staring out the back window, talking about who-knows-what. Deer, birds, hunting, guns…one of those things would be my guess.
“So. What did Jesse get you?” I ask Ella.
She smiles and pushes her wavy blonde hair back behind her shoulders. “This.” She lifts the necklace up from around her neck.
It’s a gold chain with a diamond in the center of a pendant and smaller diamonds around it. It’s simple and very Ella.
“Ooh, who knew my brother had such good taste,” I joke.
Dropping her voice to a whisper, she says, “Me too.”
“What was that?” Jesse asks and makes his way over. We can’t help but laugh.
“Nothing.” Ella blushes and tries to shoo him away by playfully pushing her fingers against his jaw. He still manages to plant a kiss on her cheek, and I watch his hand settle onher stomach.
As we’re all sitting down to eat breakfast, the sound of a side-by-side or four-wheeler comes from outside. We all exchange a confused look before Dad’s chair scrapes across the floor and he’s up, looking out the window.
“It’s Wesley,” he says, coming back to the table.
My brothers immediately break into exaggeratedoohs.
