Page 22 of Waiting For Fate

Tot

No…

Me

Then why would I mess up the system and bring something? I’d hate to run the risk of having too many cans of cranberry sauce.

Tot

You ever wonder why Mom never taught us how to cook when we were younger?

Me

Besides the fact that I lived at the rink and you cried like she was asking you to shave your head every time she asked for help in the kitchen? No idea, Tot. That Marilyn sure is a mystery.

Tot

You’re insufferable.

Me

And yet you still invite me to your house for holidays because you love me.

Tot

See you tomorrow Moose.

Me

Your face is going to get stuck like that. See you tomorrow Tot.

Tot

And you’re worried about MY face…

CHAPTER 9

LEAH

Spending holidays together has been a tradition Shane, Taylor, Lauren, and I have tried to uphold ever since we were in grade school. If we couldn’t see each other on Thanksgiving due to having to spend it with our actual families, we’d see each other the day after, and we made a pact to always spend Christmas Eve eve together as long as we were all in town. It’s been over ten years and we’ve successfully done so—even with spouses and babies coming into the picture. Ruby has also officially become part of our family and I love how much it keeps growing.

“Mr. and Mrs. Gates we’re so glad you could make it.” Taylor squeezes my mom and dad as soon as we walk through the front door of her and Tucker’s house.

“Taylor, sweetheart, please call me Loretta,” Mom insists.

“I’ll try but old habits die hard so forgive me if it takes a few times to get comfy calling you Loretta.” Taylor smiles brightly as she takes her coat.

“I’m Tucker, it’s a pleasure to meet you both.” Tucker offers his hand to my dad and brings my mom in for a hug.

“Would either of you like a glass of wine or some sweet tea?” Taylor offers.

“We have beer as well if that’s more your speed,” Tucker chimes in, holding his beer bottle up.

“Now you’re talking.” My dad nods and the two of them head for the kitchen.

“Tea sounds wonderful.” Taylor links arms with my mom like they’re the best of friends, handing me my mom’s coat as the two of them walk to the kitchen together.

“Sure Tay, I’ll hang these in the laundry room,” I call after her, holding our coats out. “And yes, I would like a glass of wine.” She turns around and sticks her tongue out at me like we’re in middle school and I can’t help but laugh.

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