Page 1 of Christmas Chaos
I
NO WAY IN A MANGER
By
Evie Alexander
PROLOGUE
February 12 – Chicago, IL
United Lounge, O’Hare Airport
2:27 p.m. CST
Rory MacGinley, the Earl of Kinloch, was as far out of his comfort zone as the Loch Ness Monster in an aquarium.
He was surrounded by strangers in a lounge at Chicago airport. Not only did they want to engage him in conversation, they were also drunk. Rory hadn’t touched alcohol in years.
His entire trip to the States had been a lesson in acceptance and biting his tongue. Having promised his mother he would visit her and her new husband, he’d left his beloved wife and the peace and quiet of the Scottish Highlands to travel to a country where everyone talked far too loudly and way too much.
Tabi Aganos, one of his brand new acquaintances, was a case in point. She appeared to have taken the most raucous parts of her Greek heritage and mixed them with the most exuberant parts of her American one. The result was a woman who could waltz into a graveyard, wake the dead, and have them conga out onto the streets within minutes. She was currently wearing an empty wine box around her hips and strutting as if on a catwalk.
‘Yo, Bagpipes! Does this make me look fat?’
Rory ignored her.
The wine had come from Tabi’s Sonoma vineyard, Prohibition Winery, and considering the rate it was being consumed it must have been delicious. Sabrina, a small blonde American, was the furthest gone, with Brits Tristan and Ben following closely behind. The least inebriated were Tabi, who seemed to have an inbuilt tolerance, and Jonathan, a sweet-natured farmer from Kentucky who looked like a linebacker crossed with a Humvee.
‘Tabi, that’s not fair to ask,’ said Jonathan. ‘A man should never comment on a woman’s size. And stop calling him Bagpipes, you insane Greek woman.’
‘Thor likes it,’ she threw back. ‘Look at that smirk. He could use a little lightening up. And I happen to excel at that activity. Dive in, Nessie, we won’t bite. I see you. I have too many male friends not to have your number. Stop hating people.’
Rory grunted. He didn’t hate people. He was simply ambivalent about most of them.
‘So, you’re Scottish?’ Sabrina asked, brightly.
He nodded.
She frowned. ‘Where’s your kilt then?’
‘He’s in disguise,’ Ben laughed.
‘But he’s probably got some shortbread in his pockets,’ added Tristan.
‘Do you?’ Sabrina asked, hopefully.
Rory shook his head.
‘Where do you live in Scotland?’ she continued.
‘The Highlands.’
‘Ooh! Do you live in a castle?’ Sabrina sat up straighter, sloshing wine onto her hand. She moved to lick it off, and Rory gently took the glass before she tipped the contents over herself.
‘I think he’s the secret star of a reality show in Scotland about living in caves,’ said Tabi.
Rory allowed himself a small smile. Tabi’s humour and energy were scarily similar to his wife’s. The two of them could never meet. It would be more dangerous than the Large Hadron Collider malfunctioning.
‘I live in a cabin,’ he volunteered.
Sabrina shuddered. ‘I can’t think of anything worse.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Tristan. ‘Decaf coffee? Vegan bacon? Childbirth?’
Sabrina grabbed her wine from Rory and downed what was left. ‘I’d take fake coffee with a side order of fake bacon any day over having kids.’
‘You’re against kids as a whole or having them yourself?’ asked Ben.
Sabrina sighed and held out her glass for Tabi to refill. ‘They’re okay in small doses. I mean, I’ve got nieces I adore. But I love walking away from them even more. I’m not sure I’m on the family path. I should want them more than having freedom to do what I like.’
‘And that is?’ Tristan asked.
Sabrina flailed her arms and Rory ducked to avoid the impact. She was like a cheerleader crossed with a balloon when you let the air out – enthusiastic, but all over the place.
‘I want to travel. My mom gave up her whole world to raise us. I don’t want that for me. And now my sisters have families and kids, they’re chained down. They don’t get to do the kinds of things I want to. I don’t want to give up on my dreams.’ She tipped her glass in Tabi’s direction. ‘You get me, Tabi?’
‘Gotcha,’ Tabi replied. ‘The kids I know are a pain in the ass.’ She looked down at her wine. ‘Kids are a pain in the ass,’ she muttered.
‘I want a pile of kids,’ said Jonathan. ‘Cheap farm labour. Kidding! I just can’t wait to be a dad.’
‘You like everyone and everything,’ Tabi replied. ‘Your best friend is a goddamn pig you couldn’t even take to market.’
He shrugged. ‘Squeakers is the best.’
‘Take it from me,’ Tabi continued, ‘pregnancy’s a drag and kids wreck your life.’
‘You’ve got kids?’ Sabrina asked.
‘Hell no, but all my best friends do. My friend Elle is like, always pregnant, currently with freaking twins and has another small child. David had an accidental baby, which might end up ruining the best thing that ever happened to him. And my sister-in-law, Bax’s sister, and her partner got pregnant immediately with IVF. Like, first try. What I loved about living in Sonoma is now. We now traipse around to kiddie parties, not good parties. Just balloons and Mary’s pizza.’
‘I really want children,’ said Jonathan. ‘I want my own football team.’ His brow furrowed. ‘But Tanya is undecided.’
‘I’d like kids one day,’ said Ben. ‘I’m one of five so the chaos feels normal.’ He turned to Tristan. ‘How about you? So far the only people here who want children are the ones who can’t actually create them.’
Tristan smiled. ‘I don’t know. It’s a huge responsibility, so I’d want to make sure I did it right.’
‘Hmm,’ Tabi began. ‘Do we need to have a talk about the birds and the bees?’
‘Ha ha,’ he replied. ‘I mean I want to make sure I have them with the right person and that I’d be a good dad.’
‘And what about you, Rory?’ Tabi asked. ‘Fancy a baby haggis?’
Rory’s stomach clenched. He’d never seen himself as a father. His upbringing had seen to that. But Zoe wanted a baby, so they’d been trying for one since their wedding, five months ago. He cleared his throat, and everyone leaned forward.
‘Not really,’ he said. ‘But I’ll do whatever my wife wants. Whatever makes her happy.’
‘Good answer,’ Tabi replied.
