Page 62 of The Sleight Before Christmas

“You and Mom smoke pot,” she blurts, “I’ve smelled it.”

I stop my footing as Serena whips her head up, her eyes searching my face helplessly as I glare over at my daughter.

Oh, karma, you angry, vengeful bastard. Absorbing the blow, I fire right back. “Are you eighteen years old?”

“No, Sir—”

“Do you pay your own way in this world?”

“No, Sir,” Gracie barks back in utter fear, and I can only deduce it’s from my demeanor.

“Until you do, until you are an adult who can make adult decisions, do not ever proceed to toss ours in our face, ever again, understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Pot is legal in a lot of states,” Serena defends pathetically, but I hold up my hand. “Baby, I know what you’re trying to do, but I know what our daughter is, too. Just like she knows exactly what she’s doing.”

Gracie cries harder as I burrow in.

“Don’t you, Gracie? You know we’re having a horrible week. That we’re doubting our ability to parent and that you just made it ten times worse with your accusation. But the thing is, I know I’m responsible,” my voice cracks as my mistakes eat away at me.

Regret instantly coats her voice as Gracie speaks up. “Daddy, I’m sorry.”

Shaking her words away, I stop and level her with my gaze. “I’ve never put you in harm’s way or endangered you, and neither has your mother, but what you just did was drive the knife further into both our hearts. But youknow that, don’t you?”

“Daddy, I’m sorry—” she pleads.

“No, you’re not,” I snap, “and until you are, I don’t want to look at you or talk to you. Until you bottom out, and mean it, I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

I stalk out as Gracie’s sobs follow me.

Walking downstairs, I hear Erin’s scolding whisper and take the steps further down to see Brenden drawing a penis on Eli’s face where he sleeps comatose on the couch. The head stopping just short of his gaping mouth. Peyton watches on, his eyes wide, his own mouth open in shock.

Serena stops at my back before bursting past me and stalking toward Brenden. Eyes widening, he immediately stops drawing, his voice low and cutting as Serena makes a beeline toward him, murder in her eyes. “Are you serious? My son is watching!”

“What? Isn’t the theme of this Christmas adults behaving badly? Have I gotten the wrong memo?”

Peyton giggles as he watches Brenden quickly add the final touches, which include hair on the giant balls now marring Eli’s face. Just as Serena is about to pounce, Ruby’s voice cuts through the air and has us all stilling.

“I can’t believe I have to parent my forty-something kids,” she states as I take the remaining steps down, dread filling me.

Ruby gives us each a pointed look before ushering Allen in, or rather, coaxing him in. His eyes fill with fear as he surveys his family, and Ruby unleashes.

“Mere days in, and so far, we’ve had everything but a partridge in the most dysfunctional of pear trees.” She spreads her glare between all of us. “This is not how we roll.”

“Way to go with the modern verbiage choice, Mom—shit, sorry,” Brenden backtracks under her glare.

“Yeah,” Ruby says, taking a menacing step toward him. “Let’s start withyou.”

I wince at the delivery as Brenden points to himself, mouthing ‘muah.’

“Get your ass to the store to pick up some alcohol to get that shit off your brother’s face.”

He frowns. “But we have some in the cabinet. I made sure.”

“Oh, did you?”

“Yes, Mommy,” he answers, and I’m not entirely sure it’s sarcasm.

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