December Writing Challenge: Familes Gathering

[Sean *]

It's writing challenge time! To enter, just post a ficlet (300-4000 words suggested) in this thread. When the voting for this month's OTM winners comes around, a voting poll will go up for this as well.

The Challenge: Write a story that involves the theme of family in some way, either explicit or implied.

The rules:

• Characters must be in Hammel canon, but the ficlets are not site canon unless expressly stated, and anything setting-breaking will not be site canon regardless.
  
• Entries must be more than 300 words.
  
• You can enter no more than three ficlets. Any ficlets posted after the original 3 will not be considered for voting. If you want to post more, however, have fun.
  
• Ficlets must be titled.

[Penelope Serrano-Blaise]

Binds Like a Blessing
Word Count: 1030

November, 2035
Burlington, Vermont

Thanksgiving. A holiday not traditionally celebrated by either the Australian or British, but it had worked its way into their household. And somehow, within that, there were set years where outside family showed up.

A family gathering, so to speak. From both sides.

It had been quite some time since the Serrano and Blaise families met up for a single gathering. Too long, according to the two men from each respective side as they clanged beer bottles together in an acknowledgement of the fact. Perhaps the two that got along most other than the force that brought them together in the first place.

And really, it was an excuse to see the grandchildren. It was always about the grandchildren. By then, there was a handful of them.

How everyone fit within the confines of their home, Penny hadn’t the slightest idea. Parents, in-laws, siblings on both sides, their children, her children.

“Hey.” And of course, the one person who wasn’t banned from the kitchen for the next ten minutes. Penny was a creature that needed space, and Lucy Serrano was the only who was either brave or stupid enough to approach her after Penny booted her own mother from said space. “You got this?”

Familiar hands circled around the psychometrist, and her own tracked up the length of Lucy’s arms. “I have this.”

A laugh from her wife, and Penny felt more at ease than she had yet that evening. Lucy raised her eyebrows, glancing around the kitchen. For such a hectic dinner, the Brit still managed to keep the area clean as ever. She thought to offer a helping hand, but she knew the answer before the question passed her lips.

Instead, she chose to kiss her. With an open concept house as the one they lived in, privacy wasn’t exactly an option from the kitchen, but the affection was welcome in the form of reciprocation nonetheless. Lucy could practically feel the tension melt away from her counterpart’s shoulders, and she was glad to provide at least some comfort to the woman who so hated the home invasion.

“Do you—” The question still slipped anyway, but she was cut off before she could finish it. As expected, she already had an answer.

“Lincoln is helping.” Penny explained. It hadn’t been a direct conversation between the two, but rather, their oldest son had quietly stepped in to help before she kicked everyone out. And as Lucy drew herself away, the boy rounded the corner again, having seen both the calm nature of Penny and that it was safe to step in without interrupting his mothers.

“You and Ellis could gather everyone up.” If there wasn’t kitchen work to be done, families still needed tending to. “Ten minutes.” It’d likely take fifteen. Lucy leaned in again, stealing one last kiss form the psychometrist before easing away.

“And make sure everybody—”

“Already on it, love.” Lucy waved a hand in acknowledgement. Only Penelope Blaise would wish to remind a group – one mostly of adults – to wash their hands. With a quick raise of her eyebrows and a slight drop of her gaze down the line of Penny’s form, Lucy slipped away, prepared for this battle.

“Ellis, c’mere.” Of course, she’d need backup from their youngest son.

-

Twenty minutes.

“Link, how’s Hammel treating you?” Not the first person to ask – and certainly not the last – the younger psychometrist offered a weak smile to his grandfather. He was tired. He looked tired. It wasn’t a secret that psychometry wasn’t an ability well received. It’d been over a year, and nobody was used to it yet.

“It’s good, yeah.”

Nobody questioned it, not yet. There was a brief exchange in glance between mothers that hardly went unnoticed by either of their sons. The four knew it was never easy talking about such a subject, and they all remained silent on the fact. And the flow of conversation moved forward. Tensions eased as it was pushed aside for the time being.

Halfway through dinner, Penny was positive both her own father and father in-law were well intoxicated. Honestly, they probably were before they sat down for the meal at all. The two men always broke the ice, a strange bond having formed between them over the years of random family gatherings. If anything, Penny couldn’t help but to be thankful for their relationship, it made everything else that much more easier, even if they were drunk.

And her own wife was halfway there as well, pushing back her chair and offering to grab more beer for anyone who wanted more. Ellis raised a hand – more than willing to take advantage of a free drink if he could get a chance, but a quick glare from the monarch of the family, and his hand slunk back down.

“Don’t worry, pup.” An arm wrapped around his shoulder, pulling the dark haired boy in close as the accented voice dropped to a whisper. “I gotcha.” But with a glare from his wife, he almost hesitated. Almost. But really, little could stop Luka Serrano once he had an idea in his head.

But Penny would certainly try; “He’s only—” Eyebrows twitched together briefly with a second of hesitation. “—thirteen.”

Because her ink manipulating wife was in the kitchen, a distance just a bit too far for Penny to be able to feel the sensation of shifting ink on her shoulder blade. Immediately, the Brit started to look for her counterpart – she had to be near. But instead she caught sight of their youngest boy. Wide, bright blue eyes staring back at her. An understanding. Knowledge of the ink she never told her sons about. The ink that was for them. How it moved. How he moved it.

Her own eyes widened with the realization.

“You—”

“You.”

Interruption in the form of Lucy came back into the space, on the verge of announcing it was the last of the alcohol, but something more prominent caught her attention. If the Australian was acutely aware of anything, it was the ink on her wife’s skin.

“What the fuck?” Nobody expected another meta in the family.

[Lani Hunter]

Love of Mine, Look at the Life We've Built

The smells of roasting ham and spices filled the kitchen as a soft music played in the living room. Everything had to be perfect, Justine wouldn’t let it be any other way. Justine rushed about the kitchen with a great deal of stress emitting from her. She turned round and let out a little “Oh.”

“Slow down,” Kevin said handing her the thick bouquet of flowers. She inhaled their sweet scent and retrieved a vase from them. Kevin watched her set them on the table replacing the centerpiece. As she set about getting back to her work in the kitchen, he grabbed her hand and spun her spontaneously. Justine giggled like a schoolgirl when Kevin kissed her. He was still enough to take her breath away.

She swatted him with a towel and allowed him a moment to hold her. “It’s been a good thirty years hasn’t it?” She asked him with a smile. Kevin couldn't help but agree, there were challenges for sure, but they were blessed.

“Mmm,” Kevin hummed in remembrance and his smile lit his face warmly. “We were only twenty.”

“I asked you to dance.”

“And it was love at first sight.” He spun her and holding her tightly he swayed slowly with her and quoted: “’I swear when I grow up I will buy you flowers and you will never be lonely’.”

Justine gave him a warm smile and his heart filled to the brim. He couldn’t imagine how life would be without her. “And we have such wonderful children. We are so blessed, Kevin.”

He nodded in agreement. “Has it really been so long? Our kids are really so grown I can’t even believe it. Our daughter’s grown strong and she’s turned into a beautiful young woman. She’s just like her mother, she believes we’re all just lovers, she sees good in everyone.” He spun Justine.

“To think we almost lost her,” Justine said and held tightly to Kevin. He kissed the top of her head banishing the sad memories and leaving only the happy ones. “And even though he moved away we hear more from our son than ever. He’d got eyes just like his father’s,” She brushed her fingers gently under Kevin’s gray eyes and smiled, “He’s just like his father, he never stops, he never takes a day for granted, works for everything that’s handed to him.” Kevin didn't reply immediately, resisting the urge to retort, but he couldn't find a flaw. He and Lani were too alike, that was the problem, both pigheaded and stubborn.

“And the kids are coming home,” Kevin said finally putting his forehead to hers and gazing into her eyes. Justine pushed herself up on her toes and stole another kiss.

“Set the table will you?” He released her in search of the good plates. He stole glances at Justine as she moved about the kitchen an expert and perfectionist in her cooking. Setting a place for six was strange but it warmed his heart to do so. A strong and rhythmic knock came from the door and Kevin rushed to fling open the door.

Beautiful Caroline barely let the door open before she threw her arms around her father. What a wonderful young woman she had grown to be, her husband was a lucky man. Kevin made a show of frowning at the young man, Lani didn’t much care for him, but Kevin had a feeling that was because of his job as a lawyer. He broke and smiled embracing his son-in-law.

“Is Lani here yet?” Caroline asked.

Kevin shook his head, “He’s on his way, you know how he is about being on time for things?”

Her laugh was just like her mother’s and she flitted off into the kitchen and there was a squeal of excitement as mother and daughter greeted each other. Kevin followed soon after and smiled happily listening in on all of the gossip that Caroline shared with them. She only paused for breath to snack on a few of the chopped vegetables laid out.

Knocking came on the door again and Kevin smiled and his eyes locked with Justine’s and for a moment they shared a though. The whole family together, what a glorious day.

He opened the door and caught a moment between his son and boyfriend. Lani was smiling unguardedly, something Kevin hadn’t seen in a long time, and Odion was making a face at something Lani’d just said. The blond turned and the smile turned uncertain, the redhead sobered and seemed nervy with the pie in his hands.

After a moment Lani cleared his throat and gestured at the pie. “Uh… don’t worry I didn’t make it.” The ice shattered and Kevin gave his son a smile, he couldn’t be more proud of the man that Lani had grown into. He beckoned them inside. Odion made a beeline for the kitchen and sounds of Justine seeing her favorite redhead could be heard all around the house.

Lani lingered and Kevin clapped him on the shoulder. “Son, you look good. You both do.” Lani’s eyes flashed with surprise and Kevin smiled looking at his son on eye level. He remembered when those eyes would look up at him with hope and admiration, he also remembered when those eyes would look at him with hate and fear. “Lani, I’m so proud of you,” Kevin concluded and something in Lani’s eyes changed.

“Dad…” Was all Lani could manage to get out and Kevin just took his son in a hug.

Kevin held him tightly, his son, how much he regretted all of the things he’d never said enough. The older Hunter clapped Lani’s back and pulled away. “C’mon, your mother’s eager to see you.”

For a moment Lani didn’t move. His expression warmed with a smile. “I love you, you know.” The inflection uncertain, as if Lani wasn’t sure that Kevin knew.

“I love you too, Lani,” Kevin’s heart swelled and he steered Lani toward the kitchen. He avoided letting tears fall from his eyes, how long had it been since he’d heard that from Lani?

How long had it been since he’d said that to his son? Too long.

Far too long.

[Audrey Vandergraaf]

TW: Mild Verbal Abuse

I Really Can’t Stay;

She grazed it with an open hand, her touch halting as if the ornament’s skin could scald the flesh of her palm; it was a lucent orb forged from crystalline rock.

By the time Audrey had arrived at the estate, the tree was already decorated. It was a Douglas fir, standing at an excessive 8’4”, and its sturdy branches stood resilient against the suspended baubles of porcelain and gold. She leaned in closer, inhaling the scent of the fresh forest needles when a familiar click-clack-clack sounded through the great room. Undoubtedly it was her mother, Mrs. Sophie Vandergraaf, guided by homemaker sonar as her stilettos recoiled against the hardwood floor.

“Don’t touch that.” The woman crinkled her pretty little nose, a petite ski-slope that Audrey had inherited, “It took me hours to get Guillermo to arrange those correctly.” Her expression was still critical, cold eyes reassessing the drape of the garland before letting out a sigh of resignation, her attentions returned to her daughter. “Anyway, our guests will be arriving in an hour.” She paused, taking a moment to continue looking her daughter up and down, “So why don’t you go get yourself ready, dear?”

Audrey shot her mother a look of disbelief, her hands losing their practiced grace as she gestured toward herself in an indelicate fashion, “I’m wearing Valentino and a red lip, clearly I’m ready.” Frustrated, the dancer folded her arms across her chest, wishing that she and her mother could have one reasonably civil interaction over the holidays.

“Well, I know that, but don’t you think it’s a little…” The woman’s voice grew soft with feigned empathy, her frigid fingers outstretched as they groped her daughter’s waist without invitation, “tight?”

Audrey could feel both her stomach dropping and her pale cheeks flushing pink. As always, she was frozen, psychically incapable of swatting away her mother’s unforgiving pokes and prods.

“Oh, don’t be so sensitive, honey.” The woman continued unabashedly, reading before disregarding the girl’s upset with ease. Her voice was lowered, as if exchanging a grave secret, “I bought this dress for you a year ago and clearly they’ve been feeding you a little too well at that Institute.” The woman snickered girlishly, giving one last humiliating squeeze before retracting her touch, sadistic hunger sated momentarily.

“You’re right,” Audrey conceded, cold blue eyes identical to her mother’s now fixed on a few scattered pine needles that had fallen to the floor, “I’ll change.”

[Carter Chevalier]

Quiet Words
Word Count: 726
Christmas, 2014

It was a novel idea. Actually, it was perfect. Despite how still that home in Maine was, the twins went back every year. Sentimentality hardly ever reached them, but this felt different. Not so much of an obligation, but a right. A passage of time. It felt unnatural to leave that place for more than a year.

So they went. Early. Their father and his twin - their uncle - would join as they did last year. As they always did, in time.

Carter had fiddled with the copper green key he still kept in his possession, unlocking the front door with a bag slung over his shoulder. Still, just as he predicted. Silent. A myriad of chrome, black and grey. Highlights of white to truly express the rigid nature of the sleek home they hardly used. But not an ounce of dust covered a single surface. Almost three-hundred and sixty-five days, it had been stagnant, but it was still clean. They still paid for it to remain clean.

Dominique moved beyond his stopped brother, who stood at the tributary of the hallway to the open concept. He dropped his bag on the floor, flicking the light switch on and rounding the kitchen's island. Second cupboard from the right overhead. Highland Park. 30 years aged. Single malt Scotch. The bottle clanged against the duel glasses he hooked his fingers around.

"Venez." The single word breached the younger twin's lips with the same bitter connotations the alcohol would soon carry. With a wave, he dragged his brother's attention to the high glass windows. The balcony overlooking the glorious ocean view. The strap of Carter's bag slung off his shoulder as Dom unlocked the door and stepped outside.

A cool breeze against his cheeks. He didn't stop to appreciate the nostalgia. Rather, he placed the glasses down on the small table. Two chairs, often occupied by their father and uncle over the years. Now their own. He sat first.

Within a minute, Carter stepped out. "A light?"

Dom's free hand fished into his jacket pocket, and he set the butane lighter down on the surface by the glasses. Teeth sunk into the cork of the bottle, and over the edge it went as he forced it from his lips.

A single pour for each. This time when Carter returned, he handed his brother two cigars. Navarre double corona, which he swapped for a glass. The older twin took the clean seat alongside his brother, nothing but a table between them. Dominique leaned forward, holding the cigar at its usual angle into the flame as Carter took a definite sip. Small hits of smoke into the younger twin's mouth before the end found its cherry-red colouring.

And he passed it along without a look.

"Merci." Carter offered lightly, taking it with his free hand.

As his tongue raced his lower lip, Dominique flicked the lighter on again. "You know you'd butcher it on your own." He offered quickly, drawing the second cigar into his mouth as Carter simply laughed. A shake of his head. Dom placed the lighter down and leaned back in his seat. "Should we call our mother?" He asked, the corner of his mouth dragging upwards.

Carter breathed a laugh, smoke passing his lips in tandem with his amusement. "Send her a holiday card?"

"A picture of her sons at their finest?" Dom reasoned, downing the contents of his glass in one swoop.

"Mother," Carter read, "Thank you so much for granting us such freedom. The divorce was kind to us all, and we intend to use its benefits wisely."

Laughter faded through the air as Dominique poured himself another drink before leaning back in his seat and looking out, too. Velvet blue against the dark, against the water, against the diamond fractures spilled across the water, against the moonlight. They breathed in the polluted notions and they drank from their glasses.

Silence. For the absolute longest time. Comfortably so, until Carter broke the picturesque notions.

"Weightless, brother?" He asked; Dom offered a begrudgingly appreciative grunt, "With the snake?"

Dom looked to his brother, tilting his head to the side with a lazy notion. And a grin, no less.

"With the whore, frère?" The younger twin offered back.

Carter placed his empty glass down again, and as Dom reached to refill it, all he could do was laugh.

Merry Christmas, Neon.

[Idalia Tsavaris]

Her Name was Rio

“Eonia i mnimi… Eternally her memory, eternally her memory,” Idalia chanted along with her sisters fighting down tears of her own, “Eterally her memory.” She’d asked off work for the day and gotten on her black dress and coat. It was Sunday and even Ike didn’t go about his usual antics. She’d arrived and raised her head proudly as she made her way to where she saw her sisters and parents at the front. She moved into the pew next to Aliana and looked forward at the pile of Koliva, boiled wheat. At the conclusion of the service Father Paulson stepped forward and stood in front of the Koliva and started the prayer for the Lord’s dearly departed servant Rio Tsavaris. Idalia had stolen a look at her mother and father, he held her and she let her tears flow free. They did say the death of a child never healed.

As was tradition they carried flowers to the cemetery adjacent to the church after the service had been let out. One after another they stepped forward. Idalia stepped forward her eyes looking at the stone and remembering Rio’s bright smiling face. She crouched and gently placed a flower where she imagined her sister’s face would be smiling peacefully under all those layers of earth. “Hey Rio,” she said and reached out and touched the carved stone. “I really miss you,” Idalia couldn’t stop the tears from coming anymore and rose to her feet and covered her mouth with her hand to avoid keening aloud. Rebecca reached out for Idalia and together they sobbed. Even after ten years, it didn’t feel any easier. The rest of the year Idalia focused on living for Rio, but on this day she broke down and just mourned her dear sister.

Also tradition, after leaving the cemetery the Tsavaris herd congregated at their parent’s house. Chatter and music could be heard even before Idalia opened the door. On the table rested a set of candles and smoking incense. Rio’s old pictures had been put up the largest being her beaming face in her graduation photo. Ida smiled at her older sister and went to find her parents. Her father and mother had done this every year. For ten years they’d kept up Rio’s memory. Even Vivian, who had only been ten when Rio died, was fully aware of her eldest sister through stories and fond memories.

Idalia busied herself by setting the table. This was perhaps the one day of the year that all of the Tsavaris siblings were together. As together as they could be without Isolade and Rio. Kids ran under foot and her sister’s spouses helped out. Ida smiled as one touched her shoulder as he set down a set of glasses. Sympathy, but not understanding. No one could fully understand what Rio had meant to all of them.

The call for dinner came from her father and a mother and father stood with their eight of their daughters, four son-in-laws, and six grandchildren. “Agios o Theos, Agios ischyros, Agios athanatos, eleison imas,” her father started crossing himself. Idalia followed suite and bowed her head. “Lord our God, we pray now for your servant Rio, who has fallen asleep. Keep her safe in Your care and keep all those who gather here in good health, and keep Isolade safe in all of her journeys. Thank You for bringing us all together on this sad but special day and bless us, Oh Lord…”

A knock on the door stunned her father into silence and confused glances were exchanged between sisters. Her mother’s eyes passed over all of them doing a mental count in her head then verifying with a small nod she went to the door.

Rebecca leaned over the table to see the door from where she was standing. She gasped and jumped, flapping her hands, unable to make words. Instead she let out a cry and tears started pouring from her eyes. Curiosity and worry cross everyone’s expression and Tressa reached out to her sister but Rebecca cried out and ran for the door.

Idalia followed the rush of everyone else to the door and her heart jumped into her throat. “I…Isolade?” She croaked out into the silent shock in the room. The woman standing in the door looked up, her yellowish eyes locked with Idalia’s and her wild hair had grown untamed but beautiful in a long gold waterfall down her back. Idalia’s father shoved his way past them all to look at his daughter.

Isolate bared her teeth in a smile and swayed into the room and as if she’d been living among the cats for so long she’d started to forget she was human. She moved deliberately and smoothly but only made it two steps before Rebecca stepped forward. “I’ve missed you so much,” she said her tone accusing.

Isolade bowed her head and hummed as if testing her voice. “I’ve missed you too, sister. Mother, father, little sisters, I’ve missed you dearly. I shall not stay long, but I have been gone far too long.” She turned now to her mother and farther. “I promise I shall not make these absences so long in the future.”

Her father and mother took Isolade in their arms and as hugs passed and stories swapped there wasn’t a dry eye in the Tsavaris house for all of the happiness that spilled out. And somewhere, so far away, but so close, Rio was smiling.

[Karalie Heise]

The Great Confession
Word Count: 1356
Christmas 2014

“He’s been accepted tuh Duke.” Aunt Charlotte bragged, her chest popping ever so slightly as she sat beside her husband, uncle Paul, and their son Andrew. Karalie gazed at her cousin, dark eyes meeting light eyes, but the boy looked away quickly. Andy had always been shy, and though he’d hang out with Karalie during “kid time” the pair had never gotten into serious details of their lives. He knew she’d dated a bit, but he was the only one she’d openly admitted that to. He in return admitted that he’d never had a girlfriend, and considering how painfully shy he was, despite being a very attractive boy, Karalie hadn’t been surprised. Still they were close since they were only a couple months apart. She’d tried offering advice on asking girls out and Andy, bless his little heart, sat and listened though Karalie was sure her words were going in through one ear and right out the other. 

“Congratulations, Andy!”  

“Ain’t that somethin’?”  

“Duke’s a helluva school, boy!”  

The praise rang around the table and Karalie was sure that if Andy could slip into a hole in the floor he would. His embarrassment was a good distraction from her plans for later that evening. He smiled bashfully and muttered his thanks, pale cheeks blazing red, dusty blue eyes staring at his plate. Karalie felt bad for him on some level, but also more than a bit jealous. She’d been on the receiving end of the same praise some seven years ago when she’d been accepted into one of the most prestigious private schools in the country. Only, she hadn’t. She had probably looked much like Andy then, bashfully staring at the table as everyone bestowed their well wishes, but it had been a sham. She wasn’t going to some fancy private school, she was going to Hammel. Her parents had been ashamed of her then, and they were ashamed of her now. She herself had felt shame for a long time, but not now. Now she was proud of what she was on some level. It didn’t make her hate her ability any less, but she was who she was and no one could change that. 

“Karalie’s gon’ be startin’ at Ole’ Miss in th’fall.” Karalie turned her head to look at her mother, brows furrowing slightly. She hadn’t gotten her acceptance letter from there yet, and she wasn’t entirely sure that was the school she wanted to attend. Maybe she wanted to go somewhere else.   

“Ol’ Miss is uh grand school! An’ so close.” Aunt Clara chimed in and Karalie gave a halfhearted smile, her gaze meeting Andy’s as the pair silently felt for each other. She wished it was time for the children to leave the table so she could go vent with her cousin privately while the other kids talked about their own things. 

“Yes ma’am.” Karalie agreed, wanting nothing more than to scream that she wasn’t going to Ol’ Miss. There were plenty of things she wanted to scream at the table full of family. She bit her tongue for the hundredth time it seemed since she was eleven as the praises resounded around the table like a chorus. “I still haven’ made up my mind, but we’ll see.” Karalie met her mother’s grimace and the silent stare down began as the aunts and uncles began debating universities. It didn’t take long for them to start comparing the schools by their football teams and tuition rates. A few of Karalie’s cousins had already gone off to college and there were a handful that would be in the next few years. It was a hearty topic during the holiday’s it seemed. 

The meal finished up and Karalie felt antsy. She’d made the decision to make an announcement during dessert that she was meta, that she hadn’t been to some fancy private school for the last seven years, but a school for people with special abilities like her. She would accept the consequences, figure things out as she went along, but for now she just couldn’t stand lying anymore. Especially with her mother spouting more lies about her. Who knew if she’d even get into Ol’ Miss! And even if she did there was a decent chance she’d turn it down. Karalie loved Mississippi but she was becoming less fond of it with every year she spent up north. Things were just so backwards there in her little home town. She was so backwards just by simply being from there.   

Christmas supper finally settled down and Karalie braced herself. The conversation was dying, which meant that food would be cleared off pretty soon. Just as Karalie had worked up the courage to interrupt the group her father excused himself and the girl sank back down into her seat. Andy caught her eye, cocking his head to the side with that questioning look in his eyes, a look Karalie ignored opting to stare at her palte instead. She needed to focus. The words were forming in her mind, she would stand up and announce it, clear and simple, leaving no room for misinterpretations.   

“Why don’chu’all go on intuh the sittin’ room an’ we’ll open presents.” Karalie raised a brow at her mother’s suggestion. Presents? This early? They hadn’t even had dessert and coffee yet. She shifted uneasily in her seat as the younger kids eagerly got up to go to the other room. Karalie’s mother and some aunts cleared the plates and Andy caught her as they walked into the other room. 

“Everythin’ alright?” He drawled softly and Karalie turned her dark eyes over to him, her shoulders rolling. She crossed her arms low over her stomach and looked ahead.   

“I guess.” She offered softly. “Sorta wanted tuh make an announcement but.. I guess it’ll have tuh wait.” The smile she gave him was an encouraging one, as if trying to convince him though it was she who needed the convincing. With every minute passing she was losing her nerve. She just wanted to get it done and over with, face the consequences and call it a night.   

“What kind’ve announcement?” The boy probed curiously and Karalie couldn’t help but give him a mischievous grin in return. 

“Ya’ll will know when I announce it.” She chirped back, amused for the first time that night. 

Soon everyone was settled in the other room and presents were starting to get passed around. It was tradition to get the nicest gift on Christmas Eve and everyone had come with armfuls of presents. “Whose first?” Adelaide asked, Karalie’s youngest cousin at ten years old.   

“Karalie.” Karalie looked up at her daddy standing in the doorway, her heart skipping a beat. No one had handed her a present yet. The smile on the man’s face was a proud one and Karalie felt her throat tighten. “C’mere, baby.” She gulped as she walked to her father, wanting to stop and tell everyone her announcement before going finishing the short walk, but excitement made her heart begin to pound in her chest.  

Karalie looked up at her father who turned and nodded to the door. “Merry Christmas, baby.” She gulped looking over at the opened door. There, down the front steps in the large, circular drive was a brand new car. Her jaw dropped, having suspected that she might get one for Christmas, but there it was, glistening in the waning sunlight. 

“Really?” She chirped like a bird, and when her father answered by handed her the keys, all she could do was squeal, jumping up and down and wrapping her arms around the man’s neck hwile shrieking into his ear. “Thank you!” She cried, her confession quickly slipping to the back of her mind as she darted out the front door, likely the envy of every other kid nestled in the living room. 

A car. She had a car! They had leverage. Real leverage.. As she climbed into the driver’s seat she knew the Heise secret was safe for at least another year. After all, what was another year of lies when a brand new car was registered in your name? 

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Getting Ready for Christmas Day

Getting ready, ready for your prayers,
“I’m going and see my relatives in a distant land.”
Getting ready, getting ready for Christmas Day.

“Thank you for having me.” Sean shifted the Santa sack to one hand so that he could greet his host with the other. He could hear the commotion inside, and he raised his mental shields a bit in order to compensate.

“We’re happy to have you,” James Campbell assured him. The bespectacled man stepped aside and gestured at the rack in the foyer. “Just put your-”

“My shoes. I will.” The telepath had been to James’s home several times before, and he knew the recruiters preferences for socked feet past the foyer. While Sean had no such preferences in his own home, he always abided by the rules other placed for their spaces. Such was required in order to meet the bare minimum standards as a house guest.

“Is the whole family here?”

“The whole Campbell clan.”

“I think I brought enough presents for everyone. It’s been a while since I’ve had a big family holiday.” Sean slipped off his shoes and arranged them neatly beside the long line of others. They stuck out for being huge, just as they always did in mixed company.

“I’m sure it’s fine. Do you want something to drink?”

“Eggnog if you have it. Wine if you don’t.” The telepath hefted his Santa sack again and headed for the living room, where the rest of the Campbell family was engaged. Two children ran by him, engaged in a game of tag.

He could already see the Christmas tree through the doorframe. It was big and ostentatious, as over-the-top as James’s Christmas sweater. Everything smelled of pine and spice. The house glowed with love.

************************

Neville family Christmas had never been ostentatious.

Not in an over-the-top fun way.

They always had a tree and mistletoe and additional decorations, but the Nevilles maintained an air of quiet dignity. Nobody wore ugly Christmas sweaters, and children were scolded if they ran in the house.

Most of those who attended Neville family Christmases these days did not belong to the Neville family, not by blood. Instead, the Neville-Finnerty holidays consisted primarily of the far larger Finnerty family, although following the same quieter patterns associated with the Nevilles during holidays.

Much like with the Campbell clan, Christmas began with Midnight Mass.

Sean had not attended Midnight Mass in decades. That served as yet another wedge between his sister and himself, since she remained convinced that his soul would suffer eternal damnation for his sinful ways. His sinful unrepentant ways.

The telepath agreed with her in one respect: he felt no repentance.

That tension made holidays increasingly uncomfortable, particularly since both he and Kathleen only went through the motions for the sake of their parents. When their parents were otherwise occupied or out of town during the holidays, Sean exercised the better part of valor and did not attend family functions. His sister did not want him there. His brother-in-law did not want him there. His nephew did want him there but, as a minor, his parents paid no attention to his desires. The extended Finnerty family did not want him there.

He knew that, once his parents had passed on, he would never attend another Neville family function.

Sean found alternative accommodations.

****************************

The immediate Bernstein family consisted of two grandparents, three adult children, two adult children-in-law, and five grandchildren. Occasionally, it consisted of two grandparents, four adult children, two adult children-in-law, and five grandchildren. In another lifetime, perhaps there would have been three adult children-in-law, but that ship had long passed.

Nobody could ever mistake Sean Neville for a Bernstein as a matter of blood kinship or shared cultural heritage. However, he had attended holidays with the Bernstein family for longer than any of the grandchildren or the children-in-law. Since before Matt had graduated college or Talia had started high school.

Sean did not attend every Chanukah celebration or every Passover Seder, although he always acknowledged the standing invitations. And he made the big events: the brises and naming ceremonies, the Bar and Bat Mitzvahs, the weddings, the funerals, the graduation ceremonies. He had had a better track record before moving to Vermont, but 300 miles was a long distance to bridge when one had a full-time job and a separate life.

“You should come to New York anyway,” Josh had told him over the phone. “Ma would love to see you, and there’s always room on the pull-out.”

Josh had always been generous in letting Sean stay with him during visits to the City. The telepath repaid the favor, although it was hardly the same. Sean’s house had five bedrooms and over 5,000 square-feet. For a baffling reason the telepath never quite understood (although he suspected it was, in part, an effort by Josh to prevent forming relationships with potential suitors) the attorney occupied a loft apartment without a separate bedroom. He could afford bigger and better but never seemed interested in the upgrade.

“You could help make the kugel.”

Kugel had been an unexpected favorite dish that Sean had discovered after meeting the rest of the Bernstein family. Charlie Bernstein had provided him with a recipe, decades ago when he and Josh had lived together and she had been unaware that they were lovers rather than platonic roommates. Just as she was unaware that they occasionally tumbled into bed with one another and had done so for longer than a person with healthier self-respect might have allowed as a life pattern.

He liked kugel. He liked spending time with the Bernsteins. He wanted to spend time with his best friend. However, he couldn’t find the energy to travel all the way to New York this holiday season. He wanted to stay home, drink hot cocoa with a shot of rum in it, wear his bathrobe, and watch movies until it was time to eat supper and cookies.

“I think I’m going to stay in this year,” he admitted. He could already envision in his mind’s eye Josh’s disappointed pout, which would quickly dissolve as the younger man worried that something was wrong aside from depression and family angst.

“Are you sure? You wouldn’t have to do all eight nights.”

“I’m sure. But you should come up for New Year’s. I can look up train times, and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

*****************************

Because Hammel was a year-round school, the students and staff did not benefit from the two-and-a-half month-long vacation period that most public schools did. To make up the time, they enjoyed a month-long winter recess. Everything wound down after Thanksgiving, as final exams took place so that the school could end the term in mid-December.

Recruiters and administrative staff found themselves less busy in preparation for the winter break.

“Do you have plans for Christmas?” James Campbell brought over the coffee he had offered the psychiatrist when the latter entered the staff lounge. The recruiter wore a hideous Christmas tie that Sean assumed he bought for himself. Nobody else encouraged his fashion disasters, and his daughter expressed criticism of his chosen wardrobe.

“Not this year.”

James frowned although he quickly hid it. “Don’t you usually go to New York?”

Sean took the mug from the younger man, which prevented him from spreading his hands to demonstrate his general apathy. The hot beverage in the mug also kept him from shrugging, lest he spill. He settled for a slow blink, followed by, “Plans fell through this year.”

That was true enough, even if it failed to convey the deeper problems.

The recruiter sipped his coffee. “Would you like to come over after Mass? My whole family will be in town, and Ginny likes when you visit.”

“Are you sure that wouldn’t be an imposition?”

“We cook for thirty.” James smiled. “The children love visitors, and we’d be happy to have you.”

The telepath contemplated the offer for a moment, and then said, “That would be nice.” It would be nice to spend the holiday with children, even ones he didn’t know very well. He could always watch movies some other time.

“Can I bring anything?”

“Use your judgment.”

**************************************

Sean crossed the threshold into the living room, setting down the Santa sack while he offered greetings to the various Campbells. He had met many of them before, since the Campbells did visit fairly regularly, as they were tightly-nit and jovial.

And liberal, which meant that, for once, he could discuss politics at Christmas.

“Where should I put my tidings?” He patted the sack for emphasis.

James came up behind him and offered him a plastic cup that smelled of nutmeg. They had eggnog. “Under the tree. We’ll exchange gifts in a little bit.”

Sean followed that instruction, gingerly setting out the gifts. He thought he had enough for everyone.

He hoped he did, as he didn’t want to be a bad guest. The Campbells had shown him an extraordinary kindness in reaching out to him, and he wanted to pay that back.