“I love you,” she said, smiling in just that way she had that made everything tighten in his gut.
“I love you, too.” And he gave her another quick kiss just because. “Let’s go wrangle our goblins.”
9
Gobble, Gobble
Matt stood at the pool table in his parents’ basement. He lined up his shot, going for his second solid ball in the top right corner.
With another hour to go on the turkey, the men had been relegated to kid duty while the women finished some kind of Christmas garland thingies for the church.
He slid the pool cue back slowly, noted the kids standing around the massive electric train set up. They anxiously awaited while their Uncle Andrew set up for a massive wreck and derailment.
“Boom,” Matt said as the ball sank.
He and his brothers were playing teams, an unofficial game they’d made up as kids so everyone got to play. Back then they’d played for chores, or an extra piece of pie. And if the stakes were really big, the last Pop Tart. Today, they played for money. Five dollars a ball.
Heavy footfalls on the wooden steps told him his dad was on the way down.
“Who’s winning?” he asked on the last step.
Every one of his sons and his one son-in-law answered, “I am,” making his dad chuckle.
“Come on over,” Tony said, holding out a cue stick for his father.
They caught his father up on the game and continued.
“Oh, I’m supposed to tell you,” his dad said. “They’re up there plotting a full family room rearrangement.”
“I thought they were twisting branches and ribbon,” Patrick said.
“They finished. They’ve moved on.”
There were groans around the table.
“What’s wrong with the way it is?” Patrick asked.
“Something about the tree and more seating facing the fire. I don’t know. Just prepare yourselves.”
Paul caught the foam basketball Tony tossed him, then shot, sinking it through the hoop attached to the opposite wall. “Why is it when women get together, they get all these new ideas? It’s either a rearrangement or a redecorating.”
“The female creativity, bro,” Andrew said from the train table. “You could use some yourself.”
“Could be worse,” Tony said. “They could be talking paint colors. Which leads to furniture colors which leads to rugs and carpet and wall stuff.”
“Best thing to do is just move it,” Paul said. “Invite some friends over, grill up some steaks, some beer. Move the furniture and be done with it. Everyone goes to bed with a happy woman.”
Tony straightened after his shot and looked at his brother-in-law. “But if you have your friends over to move furniture, don’t you have to do the same for all of them?”
“Yeah. But steak. Beer.”
“There is that.”
They were quiet a while, just playing the game, taunting each other in stride. After taking his last shot, Matt stepped back, leaned casually against one of two wooden posts in the center of the room. He looked at his dad. “How’s Mom?”
“She worries, but she’s holding up.”
Matt knew his mom was especially upset that the youngest McKinney, JT, had declined to come home for Thanksgiving. Matt hadn’t been surprises about Easter, not really. But now he was getting worried too as JT had said not to expect him for Christmas either.
JT as still struggling with a catastrophic injury, had relocated to the west coast. Matt prayed it was because he felt more comfortable there and not uncomfortable here.
“What about you?”
“I worry, but I’m holding up,” his dad said with a soft smile.
“I talked to him the other day,” Matt said. “As much as one can talk to him. Mostly me talking, him grunting.”
His dad nodded.
“He’ll find his way,” Andrew said, following their conversation. “He’s a McKinney after all. Anyone talk to Stephen?”
“He texted me this morning,” Tony answered. “Said he’d try to make it. Whatever that means.”
Andrew sank the last ball and took a moment to celebrate.
“Okay, men,” his dad said when they’d finished. “Let’s go do our duty.”
“Can we eat now?” Jack asked.
They clomped upstairs, ushering the kids ahead of them and promising dessert as soon as this chore was done.
“If you think you can gather up some sticks and pinecones, we’ll have ourselves a great fire after dinner,” his dad told Jack.
“Okay!” Jack’s feet pounded, repeating his grandfather’s words in case his cousins hadn’t heard.
Matt reached the kitchen at the top of the stairs, turned and saw Abby. She stood in the center of the room, Mary, just a few days from her first birthday, propped on her hip.
Could it have possibly been only a year since he’d brought Abby here for the first time? He crossed to her and held his hands out for the baby. “Are you responsible for this?”
She smiled sweetly. “I might have had some ideas. And no way,” she said, angling her body so he couldn’t take Mary. “They need your muscle.”
“Pfft.” Patrick rolled his eyes. “We don’t need his muscle. And what are you doing?” he asked their dad, who stood leaning in the doorway.
“Supervising. Bad back,” he said, winking at Beth, Tony’s wife.
“Yeah, right,” Tony said.
“Why do you think we had all you kids, anyway?”
“Quit whining and start lifting,” Lizzy said, moving a lamp from an end table that, by her gesturing, was going to the other side of the room under the window.
Gracie leaped into a club chair just as Matt and Tony picked it up.
“Higher,” she yelled, squealing when they tipped her back.
“You think this is how it starts?” Tony asked, smiling at his niece, getting a free ride.
“Could be. Make it fun. Get other people to do the work.”
“And you noticed the empty Bloody Mary mix on the counter.”
“I noticed,” Matt said, and snagged a glance at his wife. Her cheeks were glowing, her smile wide and bright. His heart swelled at seeing her so happy. They had their own family, but she was also part of his. Surrounded by the warmth of love after going so long without.
After twenty minutes of raucous laughter over shouted ideas and good natured insults, his mom settled on an arrangement she was certain would allow plenty of room for the Christmas tree.
“Thank you, my babies,” his mother said after it all. Tears sparkled in her eyes. Because it was more than moving pieces of fabric and wood. It was family.
The front door opened and Matt watched his brother Stephen step inside. Tall, on the lanky side from the weight he’d lost in the past two years. There was a mad rush for the door as his mom and sister accosted him. Stephen looked uncomfortable and uncertain, but he was here and that was a step. Maybe next year JT would be here.
He went to Abby, took Mary and slipped his arm around his wife’s waist. In a few minutes, they’d gather around his mother’s table, the same one he’d sat at as a boy. He’d have his own children within arm’s reach and his wife’s hand in his as they said a prayer of thanksgiving. He pulled Abby a little closer and figured no one in this room was as blessed or as thankful as he was.
“Now can we eat?” Jack asked, bursting in from the back deck, a horde of cousins behind him.
He bopped over to his parents, smelling of fall leaves and little boy.
“Yes.” Matt laid a hand on his son’s head. “Now we can eat.”
10
A McKinney Christmas
“T’was she night before Christmas and all through the house,” Matt read to three wide eyed faces. The entire family sat on Gracie’s bed in the room she shared with her older sister. Charlie had knocked off on the ride home from his parents’ after an evening church service and now lay sprawled across Matt’s lap.
Mary slept peacefully in h
is wife’s arms beside him. But Annie, Jack and Gracie were intent on the story, knowing this was the last step before they laid down their heads and waited for Santa.
“Like a bowl full of jelly,” he went on.
“How does jelly laugh?” Gracie asked.
“It didn’t laugh, it shook,” Annie corrected.
Matt continued, wondering if Gracie’s questions about the clatter and the sash and the thistle were all legit inquiries or stalling tactics.
“But I heard him exclaim ere he drove out of sight, Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.” He closed the book and handed it to Abby to place on the girls’ bedside table. “I love you, my sugar plums,” he said kissing them each goodnight. “Remember, don’t come downstairs in the morning without us.”
They all promised and he pulled the covers up to Gracie’s chin, kissed her forehead, then moved to Annie. His oldest peered up at him, something on her mind, he thought. And though he was always game to answer her myriad of questions, with tonight’s mystery and secrets, things could get dicey.
Matt drew in a breath, preparing himself as Abby ushered Jack out of the girls’ room and to his own.
“Daddy,” she said, as he tucked the covers tight down her sides.
“Yes, baby girl.”
“Do Santa’s reindeer really fly in the sky?”
He kept his face carefully blank. “Well, princess, I’ve never seen it, but…” Damn. He did not want to lie to her. Not ever. Was this a free lie zone? Exemption status? The magic of Christmas questions asked on Christmas Eve?
He wanted to call Abby back.
“They have to fly,” Gracie said, sitting up. “How would they get across the ocean?”
He nodded at Gracie and pulled her covers up again. “Good point.”
“How do you get across the ocean?” Annie asked him.
“Well, there are a lot of ways.”
“So they could get around the world without flying?”
“Sure. Yes.” He latched onto that. “There’s the Mark V and the smaller inflatable raft. An aircraft carrier, would probably give the best take off and landing surface. Or they could swim. I’ve definitely seen reindeer swim.”
Annie thought about that and he inched back from the bed.
“But could they get to every single house? Could they go that fast? Could you go that fast?”
He swallowed, then sighed with relief when he heard Abby in the doorway behind him.
She moved to Annie, kissed her, then Gracie. “Go to sleep,” she said.
“Okay,” Annie said. “Goodnight.”
And just like that she turned over onto her side and closed her eyes.
Matt stared in awe, started to kiss her again but was afraid to open up any more dialogue.
As they pulled the door closed and started down the hall he breathed a sigh of relief. “Damn. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Because you’re a sucker? Especially where Annie is concerned.”
“Mmm. Well, I was drowning in there. Nearly choked.”
“But you didn’t.” Abby smiled at him and linked her arm through his. “Ready for your elf work?”
“I’ve been ready since Halloween,” he said and kissed her before heading to the garage.
It was close to midnight before the Christmas morning prep was finished. Sausage balls were rolled and ready. The strawberries dipped in chocolate. The vegetables sautéed and the cheese grated for the quiche.
The sausage cooked and crumbled over croutons for breakfast casserole. All they’d need to add in the morning was a bag of cheese and eight beaten eggs.
While Abby had worked in the kitchen and kept a look out, he’d put the finishing touches on two bikes, a scooter, and a mini soccer goal. Everything else that wasn’t wrapped was battery ready and set out among the wrapped gifts so that their family room now resembled Santa’s workshop.
He’d tried, really tried, not to go overboard, but damn it was hard. Jack was getting a remote control car, so when Matt had come across one especially made for little fingers, he couldn’t resist getting it for Charlie.
Then remote control flying fairy— Gracie was going to flip over that. And then there was that one big surprise that not even Abby knew about.
He’d brushed his teeth, checked on the kids, and was just thinking he was still too hyped to fall asleep. Then he walked into his bedroom and stopped short.
Abby stood in front of the window, facing him. His wife, his heart, wearing a short white something. It barely reached to mid thigh, and was so sheer he could make out the shape of her.
Her dark hair rolling over her shoulders. The faint light from the street created a golden edged silhouette and he was struck as he often was by this love he had for her. Sometimes it overwhelmed him to the point of pain, but not now. Now he just wanted to touch her, taste her.
“An early Christmas present,” she said, running her hand over the white satin.
He moved to her, linked his fingers with hers as his other hand ran slowly up her arm. “I love it.” But he wasn’t looking at what she wore. He dipped his head until his lips just barely touched hers. “I love you.”
Before she could answer he was kissing her. Taking them both deep, using just his mouth to love her. Tongues stroked and tasted before he moved to her neck.
Her fingers found their way into his hair and she sighed, loving, he knew, his lips on her throat, that spot where neck met shoulder. He took his time, noting the way her breath changed, the way she whispered his name.
His hands found their way under the silk to warm skin and he cupped her bare bottom. Nerve cells fired as he dragged her up against his erection. He held her there, took one nipple through the thin fabric and had her crying out his name.
Needing more, he walked her back to the bed and laid her down before covering her. He ran his hand lightly over her shoulder and down until his palm covered her heart. He let it rest there a few beats, wanting to feel.
Mine, he thought. And he couldn’t remember what life was like before her. Didn’t want to. He slid the satiny straps down. “I really do love it,” he said, dropping his Christmas gift beside the bed. “I just need it gone.”
She smiled up at him in the dark. “And now what?”
“And now I have a Christmas gift for you.”
Abby opened her eyes to see Matt’s handsome face just inches away. He knelt beside the bed in the very early morning light. Already dressed in jeans and a red V–neck sweater. His face was freshly shaven, his hair still damp.
He would have been up for hours yet his eyes held not even a hint of sleep. She could have used at least three more hours.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, resting his forearms on the bed.
She smiled, reached out and touched his face when his lips met hers. “Merry Christmas.”
“Everyone’s still asleep.”
She glanced at the bedside clock. “I should hope so. It’s not even seven.”
“But it’s Christmas. How could they still be asleep?”
There was a stirring on the monitor. Mary. Normally, she’d let the one year old come awake on her own. She could be happy in there for a good thirty minutes when she first woke up, looking out the window, talking to herself.
“I’ll get her,” Matt said and he was off. And would no doubt make as much noise as possible while he did it.
She smiled. A man through and through. Strong, honorable, brave. But on Christmas morning he was as anxious and excited as an eight year old.
She got up, dragged on Christmas pajama pants and a sweatshirt over the tank she’d slept in and headed to the kitchen.
She set the oven to pre-heat and was just getting coffee when Matt came in with Mary.
“All changed and ready to rip into some loot,” he said, kissing the baby’s neck. “She and I decided last year didn’t really count as a first Christmas.”
“Is that why she has so many presents under the tree?”
“Could be. But you’d have to ask Santa.”
Abby got Matt a coffee and handed it to him. “Good morning, my Christmas, baby.” She kissed Mary. “The quiche and the breakfast casserole need an hour. The monkey bread and the sausage balls about thirty, so she’s going to need her cereal or maybe oatmeal.”
“You need cereal?” he asked Mary, toting her to the cabinet, getting a babbling response. “I was thinking more along the lines of chocolate strawberries myself, but don’t tell Mommy that.”
“Mommy heard that,” Abby said. “But if you’re getting one, I’ll have one, too.”
“Ooh, hear that? It really is Christmas.”
After oatmeal for Mary, coffee and toast for she and Matt, and one strawberry each, Abby rolled up the biscuit dough for the monkey bread. Matt sat at the table, playing peek-a-boo with Mary and looking longingly at the stairs every other minute.
“When are they going to come down?”
Abby grinned. “Ever heard let sleeping dogs lie?”
Matt looked back at Mary with something like a pout.
“They went to bed late.”
“I guess. At least you know it’s Christmas, don’t you, my girl?” He lifted Mary from her highchair and over his head. “Did you hear that?” He whipped around to the stairs. “I think they’re up.”
Then it was like manning battle stations and she laughed as he handed Mary off. He practically ran to the new video camera she’d gotten him for his birthday, already set up on a tripod. Then he grabbed the 35mm and moved to the bottom of the stairs, ready to capture the moment.
Abby put Mary in her sit and stand activity center and hoped it would keep her occupied at least for the first wave of frenzy. Having your baby sister rip into your presents before you got a chance wouldn’t do.
And then she heard the calls.
“Mommy? Daddy?”
“Yes. Come down,” she and Matt said at the same time.
Four sleepy faces appeared at the top of the stairs, peeking through the banister in wonder.
“Santa came,” Gracie said, her voice holding just the right amount of awe and relief.
After The Fall: A collection of Matt and Abby short stories Page 7