Page 24 of Forever Ink

“Don’t know what’s so awesome about feeding grumpy sheep,” Mouse muttered but he was smiling. “He’ll probably have us take out the porridge for the barn elf too, like I’m not twenty-nine and stopped believing in that sort of thing when I was ten.”

“Shit boy, took you that long to figure it out?” Callum said, standing. “Come on. We need to get our gear out of the car before we do anything.”

“I’ve got you boys bunking in Mitchel’s old room.”

Mouse groaned loudly. “I’ve only got the old double bed in there.”

Dad gave a positively gleeful grin. “Well that’s a damn shame, but you and Cal will work it out.” He pointed to Alice, "Now you, young lady, are going to sleep in the snug on the fold out so you can keep an eye out for Santa. I’ve got Doc and Joe in the front rooms.” Dad had us all organised. Of course he did. He’d been looking forward to this for weeks, ever since I’d made the suggestion of getting everyone together for Christmas.

* * *

“No, no, the other way lad, don’t want to mess up the branches. We’ll have needles up to our backsides at this rate.” Dad yelled out another bite of wisdom from where he and Alice stood off to one side.

“Thought he was supposed to be dealing with the sheep?” Callum muttered, dodging a branch as it snapped back at his face.

I huffed loudly as I shoved the last part of the tree through the door. “Said we took too long,” I muttered.

“Wait, don’t set it down yet. Alice, love, grab the tree rug and set it down by your dad, that’s it. Now the stand to hold it upright,” Dad instructed, taking his sweet time making sure it was perfect and ignoring the fact Callum and I were standing holding the darn tree.

“I swear he becomes Martha fucking Stewart when its Christmas, used to drive our mum bat shit,” I muttered, wishing for the hundredth time I didn’t have an armful of pine tree.

Thankfully before I gave in and committed patricide there was a thump at the kitchen door, and Dad and Alice left to find out who it was.

“Quick, let’s get this fucking thing up before the picky bastard comes back and makes us move it again.” We got the tree in the stand and secured before Dad walked in followed by a bemused Doc Cullen who had Alice holding his hand and chattering a mile a minute.

“Dad, Doc’s here. He looks just like Santa, Dad.” Alice let out an excited squeal.

Callum rubbed a hand across his mouth, smoothing his beard down and trying to hide a smile, “I can see Doc’s here, petal.” Callum tilted his head in Doc’s direction and smirked. “You’re right. He does look like Santa.”

Doc pursed his lips and blew what could only be described as a raspberry in our direction before smiling down at Alice sweetly. “I have been told my beard does lend me some similarity to the man in red.”

“Santa isn’t supposed to be a grumpy old bastard, though,” I said, causing Alice to giggle.

“Old? I’m fifty-three, and neither of you two are spring chickens. And I’ll have you know, fifty is the new forty.”

“Is that what they say? Well it looks like there’s hope for you yet,” Callum answered, grinning.

“Honestly, I am not going to legitimise that comment with an answer. I suppose I’m just going to have to share this particularly nice single malt with just Magnus.”

Callum’s head appeared around the tree frowning in concern. “Now, now, let’s not make any hasty decisions. Have I told you today what a fine figure of a man you are?”

“Arsehole. On that note I am going to go find Mouse and Rhys. I’m sure they will be more agreeable company.”

“Good luck with that. From the swearing I heard, they’re still finding stuff up in the attic. There is a small set of stairs on the first-floor landing, they should still be there.” I really didn’t need to give Doc directions. He’d been here often enough in the past. But it had been a while since his last visit. Dad seemed happy to remind him of that fact. “Swear the last time you were up here Cullen your hair was darker, not as much snow on the porch.”

“Remind me why I came here? Was it for the pleasurable company or the mockery?” Doc proclaimed loudly, but he wasn’t too annoyed judging by the grin he wore. It was all bluff and bluster for the sake of appearance.

“To avoid your parents and their theatrics I believe was one reason, but also Rhys asked you, and you can’t say no to Rhys,” I answered stepping back from the tree, pleased with how it looked. All it needed now was the decorations.

Doc tilted his head at the sound of Rhys’s laughter coming from upstairs. “You’re right, but I think we’re all in the same boat when it comes to our Rhys. Speaking of which, have we a plan of action if the shrew turns up in town?”

I wanted to curse Doc for reminding me of the issue I’d been trying to keep at the back of my mind. Rhys had been vocal about not wanting to be coddled during the day to day. He’d told me quite firmly that I got to do quite enough of that during our play time thank you very much, and he was capable of dealing with Susan should she appear.

“Donald’s trying to get a restraining order out against her, but it’s not been easy. She’s holed up somewhere with her fanatic family, and hopefully she stays there.” It was naive of me to wish it, but I couldn’t help but hope for Rhys’s sake.

Doc came up to me, reaching out and squeezing my shoulder. “We’ll all do our part to keep him safe, Simon.”

I let out a slow breath and gave Doc a thankful smile. “Yeah, I know. Just the thought of Rhys having to put up with more shit from his family does my head in.”

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