Epilogue –
The day finally arrives…
Rock, Gunner, and Apache - Apache’s POV
“Are you sure about this? They’re still a little frozen,” Gunner said, looking worried.
“It will be fine,” Rock replied, but I was with Gunner.
However, as Gunner loaded up the fryers with turkeys, he didn’t look too fussed. In fact, he looked excited. But I had misgivings.
An hour later, I wondered what I’d been stressed about.
Today had been picture-perfect. The caterers arrived early, and, as per tradition, each family collected a tray full of breakfast foods to eat in our rooms or cabins. The food had been cooked perfectly, and Zara, the woman in charge, was very helpful.
While we got our trays from some of her staff, the others had already been preparing the vegetables and accoutrements for dinner. Everything was well in hand, and now we were cooking the turkeys. The children were either in their rooms or had congregated in the drawing room. Christmas morning was always relaxed, and we did what we wanted.
After dinner, we all gathered up, and the kids opened the presents under the big tree in the drawing room. Then, in the evening, there was a buffet tea, and we gossiped and watched movies.
The first sign of trouble was a fryer wobbling. I sipped a beer and scrutinized it. The one next to it started hissing and shaking back and forth. Wide-eyed, I began sitting upright when an explosion at the far end of the fryers made me hit the floor. The lid blew straight off it and shot into the air. The turkey came whizzing out like a missile and hit a tree before exploding everywhere.
That was just the start. It sounded like a war zone was going off as thirty fryers all began blowing up one after another.
Rock, Gunner, and I crawled for cover as turkeys and hot oil flew past us with viscous intent. Doors flew open, and our brothers spilled from the Hall, in various states of dress, with their weapons out. Several of the women followed suit. Phoe appeared on a balcony on the second level and was nearly taken out by a turkey. Drake screamed her name and ordered her back inside.
Phoe surveyed the mess and shook her head. Without a word, she disappeared.
The old ladies followed her, and my brothers watched as the last of the fryers exploded.
“Tell me you haven’t just ruined Christmas dinner!” Drake growled out.
I couldn’t say anything. Because we had.
“Nah. We expected this. For a marker from them, we’ve got it covered,” Carmine said.
“Seriously?” Drake asked.
“A marker, Dad, for all of us from each of those three,” Christian insisted.
“Fine,” Drake snarled, glowering at us. “Clean this shit up.”
Without another word, Dad disappeared back inside.
It looked like a turkey slaughter had gone off. There were pieces of meat everywhere.
“Damn. When you fuck up, you fuck up,” Ace added.
I sent him the dirtiest look in my arsenal, but Ace wasn’t too bothered.
“Come on, I’ll help,” my eldest son offered.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
“We’ll all help. Let the women cool off,” Ezra groaned, and everyone nodded.
“Screw that. I didn’t do shit, see you at dinner,” Axel boomed and disappeared.
“He’s got karma coming his way,” Spike said, grinning.
We all grunted. Something would happen that Axel would mess up. And we’d be waiting.
Drake
“It’s time for dessert, and I’ve got this,” Axel exclaimed as he gazed down the ballroom. “Ain’t gonna fuckin’ blow up no turkey!” Axel glowered at Rock and Gunner.
I hid a smirk at them. Who the fuck blew up a turkey?
They glared back in return.
Axel lumbered away, and five minutes later, the waitstaff brought out silver trays, one per table and lifted the domes off. Underneath each sat a large Christmas pudding. Phoe let out an exclamation of delight.
I smiled happily. This would mean a lot to Phoe.
“This is an old English pudding. They have it every year. The best thing is we pour booze on it and set it on fire, and then we can eat it,” Axel’s booming voice explained.
“On the count of three, everyone pick up the matches and set fire to the pudding. Fuck knows why they set it alight, but it’s tradition in England,” Axel ordered.
All the brothers collected the matches, and as Axel counted down, we lit the pudding.
The women were the first to react. With screams, they dived at their children as the puddings set alight and the flames climbed three feet into the air.
“What the fuck!” I shouted as I grabbed Dante and Peyton and backed away.
“Fire!” Davy screamed.
“Someone get the marshmallows!” Eddie yelled as I thrust kids into Phoe’s arms and went after my fearless daughter. The pudding on our table gave a whoosh and flared up.
I dived to one side with Eddie as the sprinklers in the ballroom kicked in and poured water down onto the puddings.
“Holy fuckin’ shit!” Apache boomed as he protected Silvie and his youngsters.
“You ain’t meant to burn our home down!” I yelled at Axel, who stood in the middle of the soaking-wet chaos, confused.
“Axel, how much whiskey did you put on them?” Phoe asked, remarkably calm.
I looked at her, worried. This entire Christmas had been a shit show.
“Half a bottle per pudding,” Axel replied, sounding miserable.
“Half a bottle?” Sin gasped, staring at Phoe.
“Half a bottle?” Phoe repeated, staring at Axel. “You’re only meant to put a couple of tablespoons on each.”
“Huh?” Axel muttered. “Well, that was a waste of whiskey!”
I looked at Phoe as she started to giggle. I wondered if my wife was losing the plot. This entire Christmas had been a shit show from the moment we woke up. If it hadn’t been for the prospects, there wouldn’t have even been a dinner.
She began laughing hysterically, and soon the old ladies were joining her while the rest of us watched, horrified and worried.
“I will never, ever forget this year. Axel, you’re a fucking legend!” Phoe choked out.
Axel beamed and stopped looking ashamed.
“Zara, please take whatever deserts you have to the long drawing room and set up a buffet there. And then, if I add a bonus, would your staff clean up this mess?” Phoe addressed the caterer, shaking her head.
“Of course, you all go dry off and change, and we’ll organise everything. Luckily, your boys ordered desserts, too,” Zara replied.
Phoe looked around the soaking wet ballroom and the ruined tables, and the Christmas puddings burned to a crisp and broke into laughter again. Then she began making her way out of the ballroom to get changed into something comfortable.
“Let’s make it a pyjama party,” Phoe said, and the kids all cheered. “There is a movie that Liz, security, and the prospects have put together of this Christmas. It’s called a Raging Merry Christmas. Basically, it is all the screw-ups the adults made! We’ll meet in the drawing room to watch it. It should be fun.”
Those of us involved in disasters winced and wondered if we could get out of it.
“Happy Christmas!” Eddie yelled. “To one and all!”