Page 193 of The Spider & the Storm

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“Uncle Charlie, what’s that?”

We had barely gotten out of the truck when Miles pointed toward one of the mausoleums in the distance.

Ray and Noah were busy unloading their car of presents while Soldier helped Melanie unpack hers, leaving me to wrangle three rambunctious boys who’d spent too long on the road on Christmas Eve.

“It’s a house for dead bodies,” LJ quipped, running over from his mother’s car.

“No, it’s not!” Danny fired back, angry and insistent.

“Tell him!” LJ shouted, looking up at me. “That’s where you keep the corpses.”

“What’s corpses?” Miles asked as Noah trudged past the younger boys, a bulging bag of presents in his arms.

He glanced at me with that old, tired look I’d learned to expect from him in the years since I’d met him.

“You wanna help me out here?” I asked, nudging my head toward the gaggle of little kids crowding at my feet.

He smirked and kept walking as he said, “Nah. You’re on your own, bro.”

Warmth flooded my chest, even as the mounting panic of having to explain what a corpse was to a five-year-old rattled my nerves. I couldn’t say when I’d gone from being simply Charlie to bro, and I wasn’t sure he would ever be comfortable callingme Uncle despite my two-year-old marriage to his aunt. But I had learned to take whatever I could get from Noah, and I was happy.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Mel grabbed the attention of the three young boys as she hurried from her car, a bundled-up Little Charlie in her arms. “You guys leave Uncle Charlie alone. Don’t be asking him questions you don’t want the answers to.”

I snorted. “Oh, I think they very much want the answers to them. I just don’t wanna give them.”

Her nose was already reddened from the cold, her cheeks a pinched pink. She smiled and bumped her hip against mine. “Thanks for having us up here.”

Little Charlie—or LC, as we’d started calling him—reached his mittened hands out toward me, and without hesitation, I gathered him in my arms. “Come on, guys,” I said to Danny and LJ. Miles had already begun running toward the open door, where his aunt Stormy was waiting. “Let’s get inside before I have to stuff you in that mausoleum over there with the other corpses.”

LJ and Danny gasped while Melanie gawked.

“Charlie!” She swatted at my arm. “Oh my God, you can’t say that! They don’t even know what a corpse is!”

“You might wanna ask them about that,” I said, leading the way up the hill to the open door, where the scent of dinner and home carried through the wind.

Somewhere in the mix, I thought I might’ve caught the faintest hint of cigarettes, or maybe I just wished I had.

***

Ivan and his lady love, Lyla, showed up a little while later, just in time for dinner. I greeted my best friend with a hug before giving one to his better half. They quickly joined the others at the table and made themselves at home with the people they’d grown to know and love over the years since Stormy’s and my families came together.

My side at our wedding hadn’t been all that much smaller than hers, as it turned out. In fact, it’d been nearly even.

Stormy hurried out of the kitchen, carrying the last tray of food, and laid it down before taking her spot at one of the two remaining empty seats. I stood back for a moment and took in the sight of the living room, unable to believe that, not too long ago, this room only held two wingback armchairs and a little table for my sketchbook and marker. Now, those wingback chairs were shoved against the wall beside the couch, blocking the view of the TV, to make room for the two folding tables positioned end to end to accommodate all our guests. All our friends. All our family.

Blake, Cee, and their respective partners and kids—along with Blake’s twin brother, Jake, of course.

Ivan and Lyla.

Chris and Barbara.

Ray, Soldier, Noah, and Miles.

Melanie and the three boys who all bore an uncanny resemblance to my brother and me.

It was a full table, a full house. One I’d never envisioned having for myself again after I lost everything repeatedly without fail, but here I was. The spider who hadn’t just weathered the storm, but watched it pass to make way for a sunny day and abrighter future. One where loneliness wasn’t an option … and I was good with that.

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