A Scottish Christmas

by Hilaria Alexander

  “I’ve never seen so many sheep in my life!” I said, looking out the window.

  The previous year, when I was stranded in Heathrow and Hugh picked me up and took me home to meet his parents, I was too tired, nervous, and distracted by him to notice anything else. Plus, at the time, I had been in an airport for over a day, and my brain cells were fried.

  “So, tomorrow you’re spending the day with your brothers and I’m going with Genny and the kids to the Harry Potter studios in London.” Declan’s ex-wife, Genevieve, was a beautiful blonde flight attendant. The two had been divorced for a couple of years and were now on friendly terms, but from what I’d heard from Hugh’s mother, Fiona, the kids were still struggling and adjusting to the dynamic of their new family life.

  My heart ached for Claire and Rory, because I knew how it felt. My parents had divorced when I was eighteen, and it had hurt so much. I couldn’t imagine being their age and having to accept the fact that your mother and father didn’t love or even like each other anymore, and that your life was going to change drastically.

  Declan and Genny seemed to be doing a good enough job of juggling the kids, or so I thought, but from time to time, I did hear things about Genny that weren’t so kind.

  I decided to ignore things I heard in passing from Fiona or any of the other MacLeods, thinking they were taking Declan’s side and not being impartial.

  I wanted to spend more time with Claire and Rory in the future, so I thought it would be wise to get acquainted with their mom.

  “Are you sure about this?” Hugh asked, pulling me out of my daze. “Genny doesn’t have the greatest reputation when it comes to keeping a promise.”

  “Come on, Hugh, they’re her kids—do you think she’d want to see them disappointed? I mean, what parent would do that?”

  “You don’t know Genny.”

  “And you might be biased, because she hurt your brother when she decided to divorce him. I get it, you’re being protective, but I still think you might be overreacting. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine and will have a great day.”

  “Maybe I am, but then again, you don’t know her like I do.”

  As if on cue, my phone started ringing and Genny’s name flashed across the screen.

  “It’s Genny,” I said to Hugh.

  “Speak of the devil,” he replied.

  “Shhh,” I admonished him and took the call. “Hi, Genny. Hugh and I are about an hour away from Oxford. What time are we meeting tomorrow?”

  “I HATE to say I told you so.” Hugh pressed his lips together and I shook my head.

  “Yeah, yeah. You tried to warn me. I just don’t understand,” I grumbled.

  “Some people can’t keep their word. She’s one of those.”

  “I mean, they’re her children—how can she stand to disappoint them like that?”

  “She doesn’t care enough about them, and she cares more about herself. I bet the children are already with my mum, aren’t they?”

  “Yes. Claire and Rory are at your parents’. It’s the holidays, for crying out loud! How could she do this to them? I will never understand people like her.”

  I didn’t have children of my own, but I couldn’t imagine letting my kids down that way. Then again, I thought maybe I was overreacting, but when we got to the MacLeods’ house, Claire and Rory looked just as blue as I’d thought they’d be.

  “Who’s excited for tomorrow? You know we’re doing the VIP tour, right? We’re going to see all the things you guys love about the movies.”

  “Can Dad come with us?” Rory asked.

  “I’m not sure, but we can ask him. Where’s Declan, Fiona? Do you know when he’ll be home?”

  “He had to fly out with a client. He should be back in time for Christmas Eve.”

  “I want Daddy to come with us!” Claire cried stubbornly.

  “Uncle Hugh can come with us! We’ll make him dress up so no one will recognize him.” Hugh shot me a look. “What? You don’t want to come?”

  “It’s not that, Sam. We just got here, and I haven’t seen my brothers since the wedding.”

  I couldn’t believe it. What was up with him acting so precious? We were going to spend two weeks there in Oxford. Sure, I had no idea how long each one of them was staying, but what about me? I wasn’t getting to spend my days off with my family, and now he was refusing to come with me after Genny flaked out? I opened my mouth to say something, but just then, Ewan, the youngest MacLeod, waltzed into the living room.

  “Uncle Ewan!” the kids shouted. Ewan was the youngest and the brattiest, the one who always got the kids riled up. He was curious about the world, always asking me tons of questions about the US and how life had been for me before coming to Scotland.

  He had charm in spades and was funny as hell, with just a bit of a dangerous edge. Each one of my husband’s brothers had a certain je-ne-sais-quoi about them, but I couldn’t deny that Ewan wasn’t just the kids’ favorite.

  He was also mine.

  “How are you, my favorite sister-in-law?” he asked me after he said hi to everyone else, pulling me into a hug.

  “I’m your only sister-in-law, smartass.”

  “Really? What about Declan?”

  “What about him?” we all asked in unison, curious.

  “Never mind. If you guys don’t know anything, it’s not my place to tell.”

  “Is there something I should know about Daddy?” Claire asked. For a nine-year-old, she was extremely perceptive, at least whenever her father was concerned.

  Ewan knelt in front of her.

  “It’s nothing you need to worry about, love. Your Uncle Ewan was just mistaken about something. So, what are you all up to?”

  “We are going with Aunt Sam to the Harry Potter studios tomorrow.”

  “Is that so? Are you excited?” he asked her.

  “Very much. I can’t wait to ride a broomstick! Aunt Sam told me we would do that and then visit Hogwarts.”

  “That sounds terrific.”

  “Do you want to go with us? I just so happen to have an extra ticket, and your brother is acting awfully precious about going.”

  Ewan stood up and frowned at his brother just as Hugh opened his mouth to say something.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Ewan asked him.

  “Nothing is wrong with me, dunderhead,” Hugh replied, folding his arms in front of him. They were almost the same height, Ewan just an inch or two shorter than Hugh.

  The two of them just glared at each other in a display of testosterone I’d never seen between them. It was even stranger because I knew Hugh had a soft spot for his little brother.

  “Why don’t you come with us instead, Ewan?”

  He turned around, his mouth stretching in a bright smile. His hair was a reddish brown and he kept it short, and lately he sported a neatly trimmed beard that made him look a bit more mature than his twenty-five years. He was wearing a leather jacket over a dark sweater, black jeans, and motorcycle boots—the epitome of a bad boy outfit.

  That’s right, the youngest MacLeod was the daredevil of the family. If I remembered correctly, he had a Ducati, and supposedly, he was a player.

  My brother-in-law placed an arm around my shoulders, shooting a defiant glare in the direction of his older brother. Ewan was a troublemaker in every sense of the word.

  I knew what he was trying to do, and I went along with it.

  “You know what, Sam? I think I will.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Thank you for the invitation.”

  “You’re so welcome. We’ll have a blast.” Ewan squeezed me around my shoulder a bit tighter. Claire and Rory were watching Moana on their tablets and were not paying a lick of attention to us, but Fiona and Angus were drinking tea and looked quite amused by our exchange.

  “Sam, I have an idea to make this even more fun: I’ll pretend to be your husband, since yours is not so inclined.”

  “Sure, why not?” I quipped.

 
; Hugh rolled his eyes in annoyance.

  “You will do no such thing,” he said in a rather jealous tone. “Sam is too old to be your wife, anyway,” he teased.

  “Excuse me?” I asked him, horrified.

  “See? This is why I’m never getting married.” Ewan’s breath teased my cheek, but I shook my head.

  “Your brother isn’t usually this bad, but he will pay for the age comment, I guarantee that. By the way, mister, maybe you’re the old one in this equation. Maybe that’s why you don’t want to come—because you’re too old for Harry Potter.”

  “No one is ever too old for Harry Potter,” Fiona mused.

  “I bet Hugh doesn’t want to come because he’s never read the books,” his father intervened, raising both eyebrows as he took a sip of his tea.

  “Really, you two?” Hugh protested, arms open in frustration.

  “You never read the books?” Ewan and I asked in unison.

  “Claire has read The Philosopher’s Stone—on her own,” I teased.

  “It’s true, Uncle Hugh,” Claire said without looking away from her tablet for even a nanosecond.

  My poor husband was red in the face with embarrassment and seemed on the verge of storming out of the room, but I honestly didn’t understand what was up with him.

  “Can we just stop this nonsense now?” he asked.

  I pursed my lips, fighting to hold back a laugh.

  “Well, it depends on you,” Ewan said, his arm still around my shoulder. If I didn’t know any better, I would have said my dear husband was a wee jealous of his little brother and how much we got along. Hugh wasn’t possessive and knew to give me space, but from time to time, he had been the jealous one. He’d been jealous of my coworker Jake the year before, and he had also been jealous of Fern before he discovered that he was our wedding planner.

  “I want to go with you and the kids, Sam. I never said I didn’t want to, but I had been planning on spending some time with my brothers. Also, I don’t want to be recognized while we’re at the studios. Have you thought about that? If we go, I’d like to go as a regular person. Christmas doesn’t seem to be the best time to try to visit the place unnoticed.”

  “Fame has gone to his head, hasn’t it?” Ewan joked in my direction. I laughed softly, but Hugh had a point. It wasn’t going to be easy to go completely unnoticed.

  Abarath had made a splash over the summer, and with him being the lead, his face was on entertainment sites and magazines pretty much every week.

  It also didn’t hurt that he was stupidly handsome.

  Yes, the man was bound to get recognized.

  I, however, had a solution.

  “We will all dress up, me, you, and the kids. I already had something set aside for the three of us, so I’ll get you a disguise.”

  “Your tickets are for tomorrow. Where are you going to find a disguise for me on such short notice?”

  “Don’t worry, I know just who to call.”

  I rang her up, and when she answered, she said, “See? I could have told you. I knew you were going to miss me, Sam.”

  “Yes, you were right. I do miss you, Cecilia, but I’m also calling about something else.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Help me, Cecilia-wan-Kenobi. You’re my only hope.”

  CHAPTER 5

  HUGH

  CECILIA WAS SOMEHOW able to find us what we needed in a matter of hours.

  How she pulled it off, I couldn’t be sure.

  After a few calls, she put us in touch with an old connection of hers who worked at the Harry Potter studios and was going to let us borrow what we needed for my disguise.

  Sam had everything for her and the kids, but I needed something to wear. Not everyone visited wearing costumes, as it was entirely optional, a bit like how some people went to Comi-Cons dressed up as their favorite character and others went in casual clothes.

  Cecilia’s friend Jay was showing the kids some of the props they had in storage, and Sam was helping me choose from the things Jay had given us.

  “I’m going to need a cloak, right?

  “A robe,” my wife corrected me with a teasing smile. “Wizards don’t wear cloaks, they wear robes. Muggle mistake, mo gradh.”

  “What’s a Muggle?”

  “Oh, dear. Where have you lived the last twenty years? We are, after all, in the country where Harry Potter was created and published.”

  “I was too busy . . . what do you Americans say? Oh, yeah—I was too busy hustling.”

  She shook her head and gave me a playful look.

  “Whatever, you have no excuse. You’ve watched the movies, right?”

  “Yeah. Once, I think.”

  “Once? Looks like between the books and the movies, you’ve got some homework to do.”

  “Why are you so into it? What’s so special about them?”

  “We don’t have enough time for me to list all the things I love about Harry Potter and why it’s one of the best sagas ever. In due time, you’ll find out. Here, you’re also going to wear this hat and this long beard.”

  She fixed the beard around my face and put the hat on my head. She was wearing a wide-rimmed witch hat and a purple velvet robe.

  “You look like a younger, handsomer version of Dumbledore.”

  “Dumble-who?”

  “Dear Lord, who have I married?” she asked, pressing her lips together and shaking her head in disbelief. Apparently, I was saying all the wrong things and asking all the wrong questions. When I frowned at her, she smiled and let out a sigh. Then, she patted me on my arm reassuringly.

  “It’s okay, you’ll learn. I’ll make you a bloody expert.” She glanced around and when she saw that the kids were still busy with Jay, she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a kiss. I wrapped my hands around her waist.

  “I hope you know I’m teasing you,” she said with a smile.

  “I do.”

  “And that despite the fact that you seem to know very little about Harry Potter, I still love you very, very much.”

  “Why, thank you,” I replied, leaning down and brushing my lips against hers.

  “Can you just do me a favor, though?” Her voice was gentle, almost shy.

  “What?”

  “Don’t ask any questions during the tour, okay?”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want the kids to be embarrassed,” she joked, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

  “The kids or you?” I teased her.

  She smiled, her beautiful brown eyes looking downright naughty.

  “Both.”

  THE KIDS HAD A BLAST.

  Sam was worried they might be a bit young for the exhibit, explaining that the Universal Studios in the States might have been more fun for them with the rides and all, but both Claire and Rory seemed equally captivated with looking at every little thing, from makeup to set props.

  Sam had the idea of having a little contest, telling them she’d keep a tally of all the things they could correctly name. The more things they spotted, the more presents they’d get from the gift shop.

  “Look, Sam! It’s the Monster Book of Monsters!” Claire cried out. The book was in a glass case, and whenever someone got close, it would move as if trying to take a bite out of you.

  “Are you sure you’re not going a bit overboard?” I teased her.

  “Shhh, this might help them pay a little more attention. We really should try to get your brother involved and take them to Florida. That would be lots more fun. We could make it a family vacation!” she said excitedly, lacing her fingers with mine.

  “I like the sound of that,” I whispered against her ear.

  “Look, Sam! It’s Fred and George’s store!” Rory said.

  “What was it called, Rory? Can you remember that?” she asked him. Rory shook his head, and Sam pointed to the letters on the front door. “Can you read those words?” She knelt next to him and waited for him to read them out loud.

  “Weasley
s’ Wizard Whee-whee-”

  “Wheezes!” Sam said, tickling Rory until he was giggling and begging her to stop.

  “Sam! Can we go in Ollivander’s wand shop?” Claire asked.

  “We most certainly can! Come, give me your hand. Let’s go check out all the wands!” After the shop, we spent more time checking out other sets and props used in the movies. The kids loved going on the triple-decker bus, and Sam told me the magical purple vehicle was introduced in the third book of the series, Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban. My wife told me it was her favorite book in the series, and her favorite movie as well. After we made it through the whole exhibit, we spent nearly an hour in the gift shop. Sam calculated the kids’ points; for each five correct answers, they got one present.

  When I glanced at the paper Sam was holding in her hand, I saw Claire had gotten a total of twenty-eight and Rory twenty-two.

  “Your numbers were very close! I say you get five presents each. What do you say, Uncle Hugh?”

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  She turned toward me so the kids wouldn’t see her and said, “Do you think we’ll ever get out of here if we let one of them walk out with more toys than the other? We’ll never hear the end of it,” she whispered.

  The kids weren’t paying any attention to us, already too busy browsing all the shelves and trying to decide which things they wanted the most.

  Sam’s eyes never left them. She was so good with them, so patient.

  I hugged her around her waist, startling her. She was jumpy that day.

  “You make one hell of a witch, but I’m a bit upset about this velvet robe—it’s in the way. I can’t wait to go home and…disrobe you.”

  She laughed softly, her back pressed against my chest. She took her hat off, and I kissed the top of her head as the kids kept zigzagging through the store, their attention bouncing from one thing to another.

  Sam turned around to face me.

  “Is it hot in here or is it just me?” she asked. “Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to wear this robe.” She fanned herself with her hat and made a face.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? You look a little pale.”