Page 197 of Scars Like Wings

“I told you so,” Quinn smirked. “Have you hung up the stockings yet?”

“We just put out the holders on the mantle.”

Quinn looked at the mantle and shook her head. “I think you and Aunt Tess messed up.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, there are only nine up there. You are missing three.”

My jaw fell open. “You fucking didn’t, Quinn Garcia.”

Quinn’s smirk blossomed into a full smile. She grabbed a long box from under the couch and opened it. Inside, there were three stockings: a forest green one with some of those moveable sequins that you could draw into, a purple knitted one with lace trim, and an opal holographic one that…

“It looks just like my scales,” I whispered, my vision blurring from my tears. “You got this for me?”

“Of course, baby girl. This family is insane, but I want you to feel included. I told you I was all in, and I meant it.”

I pulled her in for a kiss, sending all of my gratitude through my lips and our bond. She was so thoughtful and good to me.

“Get a room, beanie babies!” CK yelled at us.

I parted, still in Quinn’s arms, but I raised my eyebrows. “Beanie babies?”

Quinn rolled her eyes, exasperated. “That is what my Aunt calls lesbians.”

“That is actually kind of cute.”

“Please don’t encourage her.”

Laughing, we hung up the family stockings and Simone’s, Maisie’s, and my own on the mantle. Seeing my own stocking hanging next to Quinn’s embroidered hot rod flame one was everything. I could see years of holidays like this. Maybe inviting Everett, Teddy, and Talli, too. It would be a house full of laughter from everyone I loved under one roof. My heart swelled at the idea. Quinn must have felt it, too, because she took me in her arms, kissed the top of my head, and sent a line of agreement through our bond.

“Girls! Dinner’s ready!” Mama called to us.

“When the fuck did she have time to cook dinner?” I asked incredulously. “Are we sure that your mom isn’t a witch or something?”

Quinn laughed.

With the decorating completed, we all sat down for the miraculous dinner that Mama had made. The table hadfourdifferent meatloaves, mashed potatoes next to the largest gravy boat I had ever seen, squash casserole, toasted bread, and creamed spinach. Mama had even sat a dog bowl of homemade gruel down for Clarkson that she was fucking up with reckless abandon. The aromas from the steaming dishes made my mouth water and reminded me that I hadn’t eaten since Quinn and I had breakfast at the airport this morning. I was running purely on the excitement of the day, caffeine from the coffee this morning, and vibes.

We all dug in, our mouths filling with such deliciousness that my toes curled under my seat. I did my best to swallow my moans from the goodness of it all, but I did shower Quinn’s mom in compliments. That was the most conversation at the table from everyone, honestly. Soon, it became stilted, punctuated with long pauses. Mama, bless her heart and ever the hostess, worked hard to keep the conversation flowing with jokes and stories, maintaining the lightness of the mood.

“So, Byrdie,” Mama said, leaning toward me with a twinkle in her eyes. “How did you and Quinn meet?”

I smiled. “We met at a party when she literally fell for me.”

“Aw! Love at first sight! How sweet!”

“Didn’t you meet the last one at a party, too?” CK’s humor cut through the joy in Mama’s eyes.

Quinn’s eyes darkened slightly. “Yes, not that it matters.”

“Always great for ruining the moment, huh, Mom?” Natassa sipped her red wine with a shake of head. Her freckled cheeks were red from all the alcohol she had had today.

“What? What’s so wrong about bringing up her exes? I mean, I obviously like this one more. She can take a joke at least.” CK’s eyes sparked at me.

“Uh, thank you?” I tried to take it in stride.

“I think everyone should cut Mom some slack.”

---