Amber
Christmas (again)
It took Zach three trips to unload the car, but it was Lewis’s first Christmas, and I was ready to spoil our baby brother rotten.
“Hello, poppet, Luke said, before pulling me into a hug.
He’d never been much of a hugger before Lewis was born.
Zach cleared his throat behind us. I didn’t need to look to know he was wearing his territorial glare. If he quoted scripture at me one more time, I swore I’d cut him off entirely. Though, knowing him, that would probably be more of a punishment for me than for him.
Luke patted my back before releasing me. To my shock, he walked over to Zach and pulled him into a bear hug. I groaned as they both started lifting and squeezing one another, grunting like a pair of competing gorillas.
“Try harder, old man,” Zach wheezed.
“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered, and went to scoop Lewis out of my mum’s arms.
“Hello, darling,” I murmured. “How’s my favourite brother?”
“I heard that,” Zach gasped.
Mum chuckled and kissed my temple.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” she murmured, above the grunting and a dull thud, followed by something shattering.
Neither of us looked back as we headed toward the living room.
“Wow,” I gasped, staring at the massive tree that brushed the ceiling. “I know he isn’t compensating for anything, so why the giant tree?”
“Rhea and her big gob,” she mumbled.
“Merry Christmas, Mum,” I said, chortling as I pictured Rhea mid-rant.
The tree was so tall the tip bent sideways across the ceiling.
“No star, then?”
“It kept falling off,” Mum said, tucking her legs beneath her as she settled onto the couch.
Lewis turned his face into my chest, rooting for sustenance. I wished Mum bottle-fed him. I’d love to be the one to feed him. My mind wandered to the two dead plants sitting on our windowsill, and I hurried to Mum’s side instead.
“I think he’s hungry,” I said, handing him over.
I don’t even know what she did, but she suddenly had a breast out, and Lewis was latched on like a tiny vampire.
Yeah, I wasn’t ready for this.
I backed away, mentally reviewing the easy-care plant shortlist I’d started keeping on my phone.
Someone yelped behind us.
“Oh, god,” Zach groaned, before gagging outright.
His arm was thrown over his eyes.
“This is what they mean when parents scar their children for life,” he said, turning away from us entirely.
“You’re twenty-four, Zach,” I said dryly. “Lewis is a little over three months old and needs boobs to survive.”
Luke snorted.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing. You just wrestled your stepson on our doorstep at Christmas,” Mum drawled.
A portion of his shirt hung loose over his trousers, his jumper twisted to one side. That thick head of grey hair he usually wore like a crown stuck up in every direction, like a bird’s nest caught in a cold, windy day.
Our two-person Christmas had expanded, and I was delighted with the chaos. I walked over to Zach and led him out of the room. I felt his body sag in relief the moment we crossed the threshold.
“We’re not ready for children,” he groaned.
“I know,” I whispered. “Let’s sort the presents and our luggage out while Mum feeds Lewis.”
“Yeah,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. “I can cope with that.”
“My poor baby,” I murmured, consoling him with a hand rubbing slow circles on his back.
He glanced at me, suspicious, but I smiled sweetly.
This was going to be the best Christmas ever.