Page 72 of The Sleight Before Christmas

“A day late, but you deserve it, Thatch. That house was one for the books.” I drank the hell out of that hot chocolate, properly boasting as one should.

Shortly after, Brenden was summoned into the kitchen to learn how to make eggnog. Ruby’s reasoning? They weren’t going to live forever.

Surprisingly, that kept Brenden’s whining to a minimum. Probably because Allen immediately saw fit just after to put Eli and me to work to set up for karaoke. The peace was maintained throughout the day as the girls stayed busy in the kitchen. And we did Allen’s bidding, putting the pieces together and stringing lights for his ever-important ‘backdrop.’

An Elvis fanatic and former competitor in impersonation, Allen was forced to box up the cabin’s den a couple years back. Tears shimmering for days as he packed away endless amounts of memorabilia and trophies. Something he’s never quite gotten over, and I swear, still glares at his wife for when she isn’t looking.

I glance over at Allen now in remembrance of a different time. A time in which we worked side by side for months all those years ago—when he became the father I never had. When I was a scared shitless kid that had little to no faith in people in general, in the definition of family, or in myself. He allowed me to be his apprentice, into his life and, quickly after, his family. As if he’s thinking the same, he glances over at me and shoots me a wink.

“How is business?” He asks.

“Booming, Dad, really. Almost to the point that it’s too much sometimes, but I’m dealing.”

“I’m thrilled to hear it, my boy. Just please, whatever you do, don’t let it get in the way of family,” he warns. “Pretty soon, you’ll be an old man and won’t be as useful.”

His words have me pausing as Ruby snaps at Brenden in the kitchen, briefly stealing Allen’s attention. My chest tightens painfully at the idea that he might feel more like an ornament in this family at this point.

“Allen,” I say, and he waves me away, shaking away any comment I might make in reply. It’s clear in his eyes as they flit over his family that he wishes he wouldn’t have said anything. Unwilling to drop it, I stand firm in my decision to deliver my rebuttal in a unique way tomorrow morning. One I hope shows him just how much his damned presence means to me.

“Hey, Witchy Poo,” Brenden says, bickering with Serena, “stop ratting me out to Mom, you damned buzz kill.”

“It’s already got enough liquor in it,” she snaps, stalking over to grab the bottle he’s continually draining into the fresh nog mix, “some of the rest of us would like to drink it, too.Mom!”

“Snitches get stitches,” Brenden warns.

“Mom!” Serena calls again, knowing Ruby is the only way to stop him.

“I’m in the john,” Ruby hollers back faintly.

“Alexa, shut my kids up,” Allen says, his fascination with her a lot less than it was when he started his affair with her years ago. Not a second later, she answers from a nearby speaker.“I’m not quite sure how to help you with that, Allen.”

He grins over to me. “See? Even the smartest woman in existence has no idea how to raise kids.”

I share his chuckle. “I’m glad we stopped at two. Don’t know how you managedthree,” I pluck the electrical tape from the nearby bin.

“I didn’t manage shit,” he says, “it’s a miracle they still have heads.”

“Oh, you getting mad, sister?” Brenden taunts Serena, “are you so,so mad?” He continues, holding the bourbon bottle out of reach as she jumps for it.

“God, I can’t stand you,” she snaps, swiping one last time for it to no avail. When she turns in a huff to stalk out of the kitchen, Brenden quickly pulls a piece of paper towel off the holder, pinning the top corners of each side with his finger to each of her shoulders while shadowing her. The paper catches air, looking every bit like a little cape as she snaps back at him.

“The hell are you doing, idiot?”

“Now you’resuper mad,” he snickers as Eli and I burst into laughter. Serena turns herself completely out of his hold, managing a cat swipe on his chin before her own laughter gets the best of her.

“Gah,” she laughs, “you are the worst brother, fucking ever.”

In response, Brenden surprisingly pulls her into him for a hug.

“Of that, I’m proud, but I vow to you I didn’t add but a half a cup more, Witchy. I shall not ruin the nog. Let’s stop the bitch fest, and get along today, for Mom, okay?” he proposes.

Serena, surprised by his gesture, hugs him back tightly and nods into his chest ... just as Brenden angles them to give me and Eli a flash of the fingers he has crossed at his back. His smirk growing over the top of Serena’s head, where she still hugs her brother.

Fucker.

God, how I love this family.

As I watch the two of them, I become convinced Peyton got some of his fuck all, devilish genes from his nightmare of an uncle. Briefly, I imagine and can only hope that Gracie and Peyton have a similar relationship as adults one day. Even if it’s filled with sibling rivalry and a little bickering. Because at the heart of it, I know they’ll have each other’s backs when it really matters.

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