Tyler doesn’t come back. He texts his mother that he’s meeting friends for dinner and forgot to mention it. I feel terrible, like my presence here has driven Alex’s brother out of his own home at Christmas, but I’m not sure what to do about it. Tyler must be perceptive, and the truth is, he’s right. It seems unfair that he’s being punished for it.
The meatloaf is delicious, but Mallory, Alex, and I are still pretty full from our afternoon smorgasbord, so we don’t put much of a dent in the food. At the beginning of dinner, everyone is subdued after Tyler and Alex’s confrontation, but soon they get back to the jovial spirit they had earlier, and even the quiet Dr. Bob is more talkative than he was the night before.
We’re halfway through the meal when Valerie gasps. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you! Aunt Jean called this afternoon. She and her grandkids aren’t coming for Christmas after all.”
“What?” Alex asks in shock. Mallory and Dr. Bob give shouts of gratitude.
I turn to look at Alex, my heart pounding. One of the reasons he invited me was so he didn’t have to sleep in the rec room with his younger cousins. If they aren’t coming…
“No terror triplets?” Mallory asks hopefully.
Valerie releases a labored sigh. “Mallory, I’ve told you time and time again not to call them that.”
“Yeah, but it’s true,” she counters.
“But they’re not actual triplets,” Valerie says. “They were all born separately, even if it was just a year apart.”
Mischief dances in Mallory’s eyes. “But you’re admitting that they’re terrors?”
Valerie’s eyes widen as though she’s been caught. “I never said they were terrors.” Then her face scrunches up as she closes her eyes. “But I never said they weren’t either.”
Mallory bursts out laughing, but I’m looking at Alex, trying to gauge his reaction—the fact that they aren’t coming. I already know he thinks they’re terrors.
He catches my gaze and smiles. “You’re quite the good luck charm, Fin. Your perfect Christmas is giving us one too.”
Relief washes through me, and I’m surprised when he reaches over and cups my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“I’m sure Grant and Eloise will be thrilled to hear it,” Alex’s dad says. “He was none too happy about sleeping on the sofa bed, let alone with the terror triplets.”
“Bob,” Valerie gasps. “You too?”
He shrugs and picks up his water glass. “I call ’em as I see ’em, Val.”
She shakes her head, then laughs.
We clean up dinner—everyone pitching in. We discuss what to do after dinner and Mallory suggests we watch a Christmas movie. After Alex and his parents agree, they settle on Christmas Vacation, in honor of dodging the terror triplets.
When we walk into the living room, I stop short. I haven’t been in this room yet, and I gasp when I see the Christmas tree. It’s massive, nearly touching the top of the twelve-foot ceiling and more than half as wide. Not only is it huge, but it’s also a real tree, and the pine scent fills the room. I’d smelled pine this morning, but I thought it was a candle or a diffuser. The tree is covered in white lights and layers and layers of ornaments. I can’t imagine how many boxes it takes to pack them all away.
I walk over to the tree and study the ornaments, admiring the mix of vintage and new.
“A lot of them have been passed down through three generations,” Dr. Bob says as he stands next to me. “Val gets the kids a new ornament every year, so the tree is packed.”
“Probably too many ornaments,” Valerie says as she snuggles onto the sofa with a blanket, a freshly poured glass of wine on the table next to her. “Every year I say I’m going to get a smaller tree, but…” She waves toward the tree. “As you can see, I haven’t followed through yet.”
“It’s beautiful,” I say with a sigh.
Alex moves up behind me and places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. Without thinking, I reach up and cover his hand with my own, overwhelmed with emotion. The warmth of his family, today at the market, this moment—it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.
Alex turns me around and pulls me to his chest, engulfing me in a hug.
“I’m sorry about the ornament,” he whispers in my ear. “I wish I’d gotten it for you.”
I look up at him in surprise, then shake my head. “Alex, no! I didn’t expect that.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear as he studies me. “I know, but I hate seeing you sad.”
Is this for show because his family is watching? It feels real, so I’m going to let myself believe it is. “I’m not sad,” I say as a tear falls down my cheek. “I’m happy.”
