Page 122 of Loud Unspoken Memories

Bug shoots her a disapproving look. “It’sDarla.”

Uh oh.

“Of course,” Allie says with a smile, not even looking offended. “Good morning, Darla. And Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, whatever,” my niece retorts.

I know my brother. I’m sure he and Allie didn’t have the reunion at the door that I had with Dallas. He’d be more discreet than that after Bug has been so difficult the past few years with any woman he’s shown interest in. It makes sense. Her own mother didn’t want her, and then the woman who became her stepmother, and who she thought of as a mom, also left.

I sidle up to Asher. “Trouble in paradise?”

“How the hell does she know?” he whispers.

“Have youseenthe way you and Allie look at each other?”

His smile collapses. “My kid is too damn observant.”

More people pile into the room, filling every chair, some even sitting on the floor. Blake, Ellie, and Maisy are here. Lucas is too. And they’re all wearing pajamas—even those who didn’t sleep here.

I’m loving this family more and more.

Chris and Sarah come into the room carrying big trays of pastries and orange juice and place them on the massive coffee table.

“Everything is peanut-free,” Sarah assures me. “In fact, we’ve gotten rid of all peanuts and peanut butter products. It’s all in the garbage, never to return.”

“Thank you so much.”

She puts a hand on my shoulder. “You’re family now. It’s what we do.” Sarah turns to the ridiculously large display of presents and says, “Who wants to open the first one?”

Charlie and Maisy both raise their hands, Blake having signed every word for his wife and daughter.

Sarah picks up two gifts, handing them each one.

For the next two hours, people open presents, the pile of wrapping paper in the corner growing so large the kids could get lost in it.

Charlie has never gotten so many toys. Sarah really came through. So did Dallas. I’m floored. He got him an inflatable backyard spaceship playhouse, an AI robot, and a state-of-the-art ride-on electric car. I can’t believe he hauled all of it to Orlando—and back.

He hands a gift to me. My eyes drop to my lap, feeling guilty because I don’t have anything for him. When I hesitate, he says, “Go on. Open it. Believe me, it’s not what you think.”

That piques my curiosity and I tear into the package, laughing when I see what’s inside. It’s a bouquet. But it’s not flowers. This is a bouquet of EpiPens.

He explains, “One for your car. One for my car. One for my parents. The school he’ll attend. There’s enough here so that anywhere we go in this town, there’ll always be one within reach.”

I make sure Charlie’s busy and then I kiss his cheek. “I’m not sure I’ve ever been given such a thoughtful gift. But how did you get a prescription? And how did you get so many?”

He shrugs. “I’ve got connections.”

“That reminds me. I know you paid his hospital bill. I really appreciate it. With the added expense of everything that happened around Charles’s death and my accident, your generosity came at a good time.”

He brushes off the compliment. “It was the least I could do.”

“You really have no idea how charming you are, do you?”

“I’ll show you charming,” he whispers, then bites my earlobe. “Later, when we’re alone, I’ll charm you with my snake.”

I laugh and hold up one of the many EpiPens. “Thank you so much for these. I don’t have the insurance money yet, so I haven’t gotten a car to put one in.”

He leans close. “I’m getting you one. That’s going to be your real present.”

---