22. Charlie
22
Charlie
A few years ago, Jody and Erik lamented that they only got all their kids together over the holidays, since the younger generation lived all over the country. At the time, there weren’t weddings and babies on the horizon, so Jody suggested we take a family picture during the Christmas week.
Hence, the themed pajamas.
I zip my onesie and flip the hood up. Yes, there’s a hood with felt antlers on it. The onesie has pockets but doesn’t have booties, so I put my phone into the pocket, step into my slippers, and head downstairs.
“Are you whistling?” Yvette asks. She’s seated at the kitchen counter next to Lance. Jody and Erik were in charge of breakfast this morning, and the cloyingly sweet smell of cinnamon rolls and icing hangs in the air.
Lance tips his chin up to me in greeting as I grab a plate. Bea’s not down yet, so I grab a plate for her too and give her the gooiest middle piece out of the pan.
Yvette raises an eyebrow and opens her mouth, but Lance nudges her before she can say anything.
Saved by the peacemaker . I put a fresh pod into the coffee machine and wait for it to brew.
Yvette sighs and rolls her head onto Lance’s shoulder. “If you don’t want me to razz him, you could at least get me another cinnamon roll.”
Lance smiles and reaches down the kitchen island for another pastry. Yvette sighs happily and kisses his shoulder before she digs in.
The rest of the family is at the table, Jasper and Erik deep in conversation and I hear the words carrot and powder, so who knows what they are talking about. Naomi’s talking to Mom and Kayla. Everyone’s wearing their onesies and half the hoods are up.
I look back at Lance and Yvette. She feeds him a bite of cinnamon roll and leans against him. Next year, they’ll be married. Right now, they’ve got their wedding to look forward to.
This could be me and Bea next year. Sitting by ourselves, on the cusp of the rest of our lives together.
Movement catches my eye and I notice Bea enter the room about two seconds before everyone else does.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Erik calls.
Bea has brushed her hair, and it’s gathered at the nape in a smooth bun. She’s still bare-faced, and those dimples pop, first for her dad, and then even deeper when she sees me.
“Oh god, y’all are insufferable.” Yvette rolls her eyes and Lance blushes in secondhand embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, didn’t you just swoon over your fiancé getting you a cinnamon roll?” I stick out my tongue at her. “Talk about insufferable.”
Yvette laughs and Lance blushes harder.
Bea joins us in the kitchen, and I hand her the plate and coffee. She accepts it and her gaze drops to my lips like she’s thinking about kissing me good morning in front of God and everyone.
She doesn’t though. Instead she turns and takes a seat at the table.
“Insufferable,” Yvette mouths to me while I start a second cup of coffee.
By the time I sit down, almost everyone has finished eating, so I enjoy my cinnamon rolls in silence, listening to the chatter about the day’s plans. First there are the family photos by the fireplace—Jody has made a list; everyone being serious, everyone being goofy, the Cummingses, the Cummingses plus in-laws, the Dunskys, and every individual couple. Bea and I aren’t on the list, and I look up at her, trying to catch her eye and gauge her thoughts.
We should have talked about this last night, but I was too sex-drunk to have a scary conversation. What happens next? What do we do when we get back to the city?
Bea doesn’t look at me though, she’s too busy plotting something with Jasper—ah, a snowman-building competition, to be voted on by the moms.
“What is that?” Erik’s voice carries over all the other conversations. He’s sitting across from me and staring over my left shoulder. The rest of the conversation in the room dips.
I look over my shoulder. Yvette and Lance look at me wide-eyed from the kitchen counter, and then glance behind themselves.
“What?” I ask, before turning back to Erik.
“That.” He points and then gets up to reach across the table and flick the hoodie off my head. “Is that a hickey?”
I’m not wearing a shirt underneath the onesie, and I reach up to feel my shoulder. Yes, at the crook of my neck is a tender spot where Bea sunk her teeth last night.
Someone whoops—Jasper, probably, finally able to let out his excitement in public—and across the table Bea buries her blushing face in her hands amid a cacophony of voices.
Mom gets up, then sits down, then gets up again. “Are you two—oh, bless the fates!”
There’s a lot of laughter and “finally” and my mom looking like I hung the moon, with tears in her eyes. Just when I think everyone’s calming down, Erik speaks up again.
“You better hurry with the grandkids, so Jasper or Kayla junior has someone to play with.”
“Dad!” Kayla shouts, and Jasper groans.
“What?” Jody screeches.
Now we’re all on our feet, and Kayla’s crying and getting tons of hugs.
“We’re not out of the first trimester yet. Don’t get too excited,” Kayla begs, but it mostly falls on deaf ears.
When things finally die down, Jody turns to her husband and backhands him on his shoulder. It’s playful...kind of.
“You know you’re supposed to let a couple announce their own pregnancy!” she scolds him. “How did you even know?” She whacks him again, and he raises his arms in self-defense.
“She’s been throwing up all the time. How did you not notice?”
Jody switches to wagging her finger at him viciously. “I need to get you a book on how to be a grandparent. My god.”
She dives into a lecture, finger still wagging, and Erik has the decency to look ashamed. In my pocket, my phone buzzes.
I slide it out and see Arlo’s name on the screen. It’s Christmas Eve, so he’s probably calling to wish me a Merry Christmas one last time. I swipe my thumb across the screen and step away from the family and into the butler’s pantry. “Good morning,” I say.
“Charlie, we have a problem.”