Page 2 of Dealing With Christmas

“Andrew!” a woman says in a husky, thickly-accented voice. “So glad you came! Welcome to casa mia!”

Mrs. Harris, Brody’s and Charlee’s mother, pulls me into a freakishly strong hug considering her petite frame. I practically bend in half so I can strategically angle my lower body away from her. It’s a good thing, too, because as Charlee starts walking away, her fingertips just happen to graze my ass, dropping dangerously close to my nuts. As she heads into the other room, my eyes land on her ass, making the erection situation even worse.

I straighten up and put my hands in my pockets. “Good to see you again, Mrs. Harris. It’s been a while.”

She places her hand over her heart. “Mio Dio, look how big and strong you are now! You’re such handsome, virile boy. You and Carlotta will make beautiful babies.”

“Wh-what?” I stutter.

“I expect at least three, or better yet, four. You’re both about the same age, no? You should start soon. Very soon. How about right now? We have some time before dinner.”

My jaw drops. “What?!”

What the hell is happening right now?

Mrs. Harris smirks. “Oh relax, boy, I’m just screwing with you. You make it too easy.” She chuckles. “You should see your face right now.”

Jesus Christ, now I see where Brody gets it from.

“Uh...”

A boisterous laugh echoes throughout the room. Mr. Harris sidles up next to his wife and kisses her on the cheek. “Sofia, let the poor man have a few drinks before you torment him.”

“Drew,” he says shaking my hand. “Nice to see you again. What’s it been? Five years or so?”

“Nine, actually,” I reply.

The one and only time I met Mr. and Mrs. Harris was when they came to visit Brody at school. He and I lived in the same frat house and I just happened to be home at the time.

“Huh. Time flies when you’re having fun, right?” He nods to the tiny woman at his side. “This one keeps me on my toes.”

I laugh. “I bet.”

Mrs. Harris rolls her eyes. “I check on lasagna now. Carlotta’s in the den. Daniel, you go show him where it is.”

Mr. Harris salutes. “Yes, ma’am.”

Mrs. Harris whacks him on the chest with the back of her hand. “Chooch.”

“What did she just call you?” I ask.

“A jackass.” He chuckles softly as he watches her leave the room. “But she meant it in the most loving way, of course.”

Now I’m laughing. “Of course.”

He nods to the arched entryway behind him. “Let’s go get some drinks. Whiskey good?”

“Whiskey’s great. A double would be even better.”

He laughs and gives me a knowing look. Christ, if the first five minutes were this eventful, Charlee was right. I am going to need some alcohol to survive the next few hours.

---