Page 82 of Ho Ho Oh No

“Disaster?Pshaw.” She pats my stomach twice like it’s a scolding. “Can’t think of a better ending. Instead of exchanging material things, our Redleg family is growing.”

Family.

If my heart could smile, it’d do it now.

Lettie wears my collar and engagement ring, but knowing she’s mine is surreal. We’re having a baby, and everyone at Redleg has welcomed her with open arms. Best of all, she’s accepted them the same way. While she and Big Al aren’t as close as she’d like, they’re off to a great start.

Undoubtedly, she considers herself Redleg family—which she is.

Her sudden giggle catches me off guard. A few others look over too.

“What is it, sugar bear?”

She pushes up, extricating from my embrace to face me. “I once heard an expression about—” Her laughter renews, cutting off her explanation for a beat. “Whoever it was said Christmas is basically one big baby shower that went hog wild.”

“Hog wild,” I parrot, raising my brows in disbelief. “Is that what they called it? Really?”

“Well, that’s my version. The original was likely something with less razzle-dazzle.”

I open my mouth, ready to bust her chops some more, but Big Al’s voice booms from the edge of the waiting room.

He and Madeline have been in with Sammy as her labor progressed, occasionally coming out to give us updates. I always thought only the father could be in the room for this shit, but apparently, that’s just what Hollywood wants you to believe. The last we heard, she was starting to push. I found that to be anodd thing to announce, but what do I know about it? Lettie and I haven’t started birthing classes yet.

Big Al’s face is carved in severe lines, and his tone is somber. “Listen up, troops. Announcement time.”

Silence settles over us like a scratchy blanket.

One by one, we launch to our feet. Lettie frantically grabs my hand, holding it between both of hers right over her chest. We trade worried glances. For a long time—too long for my comfort—nobody speaks.

“Boss?” Shep asks, his tone holding hints of alarm.

After ejecting a weighted breath that deflates his cheeks, he scans the room, looking at each person individually.“I’ve got some bad news. Two bits of bad news, in fact.” He pauses for another forced exhale. “I don’t know how to say this, so I’m gonna just spit it out.”

Gasps and whimpers fill the space around us. My pulse skyrockets.

“Oh no, no, no, no, no,” Lettie mumbles, her voice a quavering shell of its normal vibrancy.

The air leaves my lungs in a lingering stream, and I don’t bother to inhale. Too frozen.

Boss clears his throat. “The bad news is... I lost the baby pool.”

The fuck?

Is this a joke or a really fucked up way to deliver the worst news imaginable?

I attempt to recall what he predicted by envisioning the baby pool poster in the break room. Everyone had written their bets for weight, time of birth, and all that shit on the paper. Except I can’t picture it before he drops the next bomb.

“The second thing is far worse, I’m afraid. There are two more humans in the world for us to deal with who have Sawyer’sDNA.” Big Al smiles, dropping the gloom and doom shit entirely. “And they look just fucking like him. He’s gonna be unbearable.”

Lettie releases my hand and curls her fingers in front of her face in frustration. She releases a hilarious, tension-breaking shriek that blooms into hysterical laughter. The kind that makes you think someone needs to be medicated.

“Boss! What the fuck?” Jonesy grumbles, his arms spread wide, and his face waxed over.

“Wow, Santa is a straight-up dickhead,” Val quips.

“Valerie!” Kri scolds her, then trains her knife eyes on Boss. “But yeah, that was a dickish thing to do.”

Big Al’s hit with similar sentiments from everyone in the waiting room.There are hugs, gripes, relieved exhales, and a chorus of cheers. Through it all, the fucker keeps right on smiling. As bright as the Christmas tree a few feet behind him.

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