Page 19 of Spicy Nick

Whatever is going on, my Uncle Joe is in on it, too—I’m absolutely certain that’s the case. But this, too, is not my circus, I suppose. So, I try my best to put it out of my mind.

The restof the evening passes pleasantly enough. True there’s a bit of a fuss at dinnertime, when someone’s alle vongole (clam sauce, to you) leaks onto their seafood lasagna, a tragedy that necessitates an emergency change of plates. And Lucy’s parents aren’t all that impressed with her explanation for why she’d decided to add bacon and chopped pimentos to the Swiss chard—“because red and green are Christmas colors.” But none of this is out of the ordinary.

Still, I find myself growing antsy, wondering how soon we can leave. Scout and I were doing okay at home. Here? Not so much. She’s acting weirdly awkward around both Dan and Seth. And despite her earlier sob-fest, it’s clear she’s growing progressively more annoyed with Lucy who, in Scout’s defense, is unquestionably, being more overbearing than usual. To the point that I’m almost about to say something—for which read snap at her—except that I know how that would end.

Both Scout and Lucy are fully capable of speaking up in their own defense, but only an idiot would diss Dan’s wife in Dan’s house and expect it to go unchallenged.

Remember my list of foolish things I may have done? Yeah, that’s definitely not on it.

At some point following dinner,Mandy and Kate disappear for a while, which is not unusual. In fact, I don’t even realize that they’ve left the house until they walk back in through the front door.

Kate’s carrying a small duffle bag—one that I recognize as being ours and I have to ask, “What’s with the bag?”

“I went home and got some overnight stuff for me and Cole,” she tells me. “We’re gonna be spending the night here.”

“You’re what? Since when?”

“Spending the night. Since…now, I guess? Is that a problem? I thought it would be nice for you and Scout to get a little time to yourselves. Sounds like a win-win to me.”

I blink in surprise. It’s a little unclear where the other win is in that scenario. Unless I get one W and Scout gets the other? I barely manage to hold my tongue and not point out that, if that’s the case, Kate’s using the phrase incorrectly. I also manage to not scold her for driving after drinking. Which definitely counts as a double win for me.

I mean, yes, she’s underage, but it was just one glass. And, really, what kind of dick would kick a gift horse in the mouth like that? Particularly when said horse is one’s daughter. “Thank you,” I say instead. But then I notice the somewhat stricken expression Scout is wearing and add, “Is this okay with you?”

“I-I guess so,” Scout says. “I mean, it’s Christmas Eve. But if Cole wants to, and if it’s okay with you, Lucy?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Lucy replies, looking vaguely insulted. “Why are you even asking? Mi casa, su casa. Don’t be dense.”

“How ’bout it Cole?” Kate asks, crouching down so that she’s on eye-level with her brother. “Wanna stay here tonight with me and Mandy, and Seth, and?—”

“Puppy?” Cole asks hopefully, which makes me smile. He’s seated on the hearth rug, sandwiched in between two of Seth’s biggest dogs—Mouth and Zeus—both of whom have massiveheads, with tongues that are nearly as long as one of Cole’s arms. But he’s not even slightly cowed.

Neither am I, in case you’re wondering. Seth’s dogs are the best behaved, best trained dogs I’ve ever seen. Even Deirdre, who has more reason to fear them than any of us, has learned to trust them.

“Yep. All the puppies will be here, too,” Kate promises Cole.

“What about Santa?” he asks.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll stop here, too. But he’ll probably drop your presents off at our house. I’ll drive you home tomorrow morning, and you can have them then. Okay?”

Cole eyes his sister narrowly. “You promise?”

“Of course!”

Then he turns to Scout and says, “And you promise you’ll put cookies out for Santa?”

She smiles at him. “Yes, Cole. I promise.”

“And carrots for the reindeer?”

“Of course. I’d never forget the reindeer!”

“Wait, what about his car seat?” I ask Kate. “How’re you gonna drive him home without it?”

“I’m way ahead of you, Dad,” my daughter says—positively smirking at me as she does. “I grabbed the spare one out of the garage. You know, the one you keep for when Tori comes over?”

“Right. I guess you’ve thought of everything, then.”

“I have.” Kate grins. “Don’t look so surprised.”

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