Page 29 of The Christmas Keeper

“Well,I’mfeeling several emotions,” Mom interjected. Dad was in the kitchen making coffee. That was his go-to when things got tense. He made coffee while Mom verbalized.

“I’m sure you are, Mrs. Argraves,” Kenan slid in before I could open my mouth to reply. “Surprises are always so unexpected.”

Bless the man, he was just as rattled as the rest. I mean, yeah, surprises were unexpected, which was why they were surprises. I disliked surprises greatly. My sister knew this, hell the whole family knew this, and yet here they were without warning. I had suspicions as to whom it was that had plotted this little drop-in, and she was going to get an earful. A mild earful as she was pregnant, but an earful just the same.

“Yes, yes they are,” Mom tightly responded. “But there are mild surprises and then there are huge, distressing surprises.”

“Oh? What do you find so distressing, Mother? That your gay son has a man sleeping over or that the man sleeping over is a—”

“Coffee is ready,” Dad called out, his shout breaking what was going to be a showdown.

“Oh yay, coffee. Let’s go have coffee. I love coffee, but I can’t have any now that I’m preggo.” Nora latched onto Kenan, hand on his arm, and pulled him into the kitchen.

Mom and I glowered at each other until she spun on her heel. “I wish you wouldn’t use such an ugly term, Nora. You’re expecting, not preggo. Ugh, that word is so tacky.”

Kenan threw me a nervous look over Nora’s head.

I took a few steps but recalled that my chest and feet were not dressed. “I need a shirt,” I muttered and left the four of them to coffee. I took a moment to scrub at my face with my cold hands in the privacy of my bedroom before pulling on some wool socks and an old hoodie with a pink piggy on the front.

When I returned to the kitchen, things had not miraculously gotten any better. If anything, the vibes were worse. Kenan and Dad stood by the fridge, sipping coffee in silence as my mother and sister were seated at the little round table. Nora was chirping away merrily at Kenan about her new husband’s shoes while Mom sat sipping her coffee, her thin brows in a deep V as her sight lingered on the tree/menorah table.

I paused to turn on the tree. I really wanted to light some candles for the menorah, but that might be considered rude, and since I was entertaining the thought just to be spiteful, I merely gave the candelabrum a warm pat as I walked by it.

“So, now that we all have coffee—” Dad said.

“I have tea. It’s decaf,” Nora clarified. “I carry bags in my purse because it’s so hard to find decaf tea anywhere, it seems.”

“Correction. Nora has tea, and the rest of us have coffee. Why don’t we all gather our wits and think about a nice place to have breakfast? Is that diner out by the lake still in business, Brann?” my father enquired.

Dad stayed where he was, as did Kenan, and I slid in next to Kenan to stand protectively by his side as my father handed me a cup of coffee.

“Yeah, it’s still there. Gas workers kept it going since the pandemic,” I replied, taking a drink, my sight resting on my mother, daring her to say something off-color.

“Excellent. The last time we were here, we had some of the best pancakes there. Big fluffy ones with chocolate chips topped with whipped cream. I ate two platefuls, then on the way home had to stop the car because I thought I was going to get sick all over—”

“You could introduce us to this young man,” Mom sliced into Dad’s pancake adoration. “Or are we to sit here not knowing his name?”

“Mom, Dad, Nora, this is Kenan Gardet. He works for me at the alehouse,” I said, bracing for the next round of disapproval. Her face tightened.

“Good Lord above, Brann. He could sue you for sexual misconduct. Whatever is going on in that head of yours? I know you men tend to think with your penises, but this is just foolishness! Are you hoping to be dragged through the courts by this person?” She flung a hand at Kenan.

“This person has a name,” I snapped.

“Maybe we should take a few moments to re-center our emotions?” Kenan offered. Dad jumped on that with both feet, as did Nora, who was now looking a lot less chipper around her grand surprise. “Let’s go tend to the geese.”

Kenan took me by the hand. We stepped into chore boots and yanked on coats in simmering silence. I could hear my mother talking to my sister in a low rumble as we exited the house. The cold did little to lower the heat burning inside me.

“Fred and Wilma must have heard the back door close,” Kenan said, his words clouds that lingered in front of us. I grunted. Hesighed. The mist rose slowly and then dissipated. I could hear the geese making their usual hurry-up honks as I stormed across the snowy yard. I had to stop at the gate and that was where Kenan caught up. “Brann, I am so incredibly sorry for that whole nightmare scene. If I had known it was your family…”

“No, do not apologize. You did nothing wrong.”

“I was wearing underwear on my head. I mean, sure, Mr. Blum probably would have gotten a chuckle out of it since he was the one to give me the boxers, but even so, I could have just told him they fit well and not bounded out like a toad hitting a hot pavement just to get a guffaw.”

“Nope, nope. This is not on you. You were just being friendly and maybe a little silly. My mother—”

“Will calm down once she has had time to process. Your sister and father are so nice.” He took my chilly face between his palms. “Trust me. Even your mother, who is kind of upset right now, will remember how much she loves you. Things will calm down.” He gave me a soft kiss as the geese, hearing our voices, began noodling at the coop door with their bills.

I tried, honestly, I did, but I could not let go of all the lingering upset. Kenan was jovial, or giving it his best effort, as we did morning chores. The geese, probably sensing my tension, were being standoffish, or more standoffish than was normal for the two of them.

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