Page 82 of It's Mother-Pucking Christmas!

“You what?”My mother went DEFCON 1. “You!You took my grandbabies.”

“Dakota’s not pregnant!” Timmy took off at a sprint, almost bowling over the Christmas tree.

“Get him!” My uncles jeered as my mom chased Timmy around the packed living room.

“Dakota, if you didn’t already have two black eyes and a broken hand, I’d beat your ass too,” my mother screamed.

“Snitch!” Nico declared, “But also…” He slugged Timmy. “What the fuck, bro, you just lost us the Christmas hockey game.”

“Dakota can get back together with him now, at least,” Violet said, sitting behind me and rifling in the pocket of the robe I was wearing.

“I think Aunt Stacy already took the Percocet.”

“You better go get him,” my five-times divorced Aunt Ruth said with a heavy smoker’s rasp, taking the rest of my soup. “I dated an NFL player once—”

“You didn’t date him, you showed up naked in his hotel room, and he called the cops,” another aunt interjected.

“Potato, potahto. I’ve regretted it ever since. You get a man like that, lock him down. Now I have to watch him with his beautiful young wife and lovely children all over Instagram with their nice, big house and all her shopping. She got a reality TV show.”

I burst into tears. “I don’t want to watch Ryder move on with another woman.”

“If Ryder gets signed by the Direwolves, he’s going to be drowning in pussy,” my brother Nico said matter-of-factly.

“I’m going to lie down.” I groaned.

“I’ll bring you some tea,” Gracie said.

“She doesn’t deserve tea!” Nico yelled after me.

“Shut up!” my mom yelled at my brother. “She’s heartbroken and is regretting the consequences of her actions. We should all feel sorry for Dakota.”

With tears rolling down my bruised nose, I lay on my bed and scrolled through my phone.

Ryder was everywhere. Literally everywhere. There had already been a number of internet forums that had sprung up around him due to the stalker. They’d exploded after the footage of the fight, then it was as if they’d been doused with gasoline after news of his potential NHL career.

All the talk shows were talking about him.

“You think Ryder needs a publicist?” Aunt Stacey came out of my bathroom toweling her hair and plopped down on my bed. She sprayed hairspray all over her hair, making me cough violently. “I told you Violet’s starting her publicist consulting firm. She’s doing PR for Lainey’s hair salon.”

“I don’t think that’s what Ryder needs,” I groaned.

“Tell him he gets a family discount.” She grabbed my pj’s. “Come on. Let’s go out.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, because I’m your favorite, coolest auntie!”

“Nooo,” I moaned.

Going out with my family,even like a quarter of my family, is a massive undertaking. We take up like half a restaurant. We’re loud and noisy and drink too much.

The Yule Log Tavern was thankfully run by the sister of my mom’s cousin’s husband, and she let us push tables together. Myears rang as my female family members chatted about what they were going to order.

“Look at this. She’s got dried oranges in this cocktail with bourbon.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“Do they have fries here?” I asked.

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