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Jared parked his truck behind Anna Beth’s Chrysler on the side of the road. He’d forgotten tonight was supposed to be the family tree trimming party and his parent’s driveway was packed with cars from his other foster siblings. He’d thought about telling his mom he couldn’t make it to dinner since he’d only had four hours of sleep, but he didn’t want to disappoint her.
That wasn’t the only reason he wanted to go. He needed to see Anna Beth. Now that he’d run into her several times, he wanted to make amends. Maybe, one day, they could even be friends again.
If she could forgive him for putting her in such an uncomfortable situation.
In hindsight, he should have never confessed to Anna Beth on her wedding day, but he’d been consumed with the thought of losing her. In the end, he’d lost her anyway. It was a selfish motivation, and hopefully she could see he’d grown from that scared kid.
The trim around the house was lit up with multi-colored Christmas lights, flashing brightly in the dark. A ginormous blow up Frosty graced the front yard, weaving in the breeze. Jared turned the corner and jumped as an animatronic Santa by the front door moved. The eyes lit up bright blue as it sang Santa Claus is Coming to Town, the arms and body twitching as though possessed.
The porch light flipped on, making the Santa even more terrifying in the light, and the door opened as his mom stepped out onto the porch.
“Jared! I thought I heard someone out here.”
“Yeah, Santa was coming for me. Where the hell did you get that? It's creepy.”
“We ordered him from some Christmas store online. I think he’s great!” She stood back, waving her hand for him to enter. “Come in before you freeze your buns off.”
Jared bent to kiss her cheek as he passed, the rich smell of fresh-baked bread wafted from the kitchen, causing his mouth to water. “Speaking of buns, what did you make? Smells good.”
“Lasagna, a tossed salad and a cream pie for dessert, but Anna Beth came early with this bread she bought. You just pop it in the oven for a half an hour to bake and viola, tasty bread!”
“I can’t wait to try it.” He slipped out of his coat and hung it up on an empty hook by the door.
“I’m going to head back into the kitchen. Go, say hi to your dad.”
“I’ll be in to give you a hand in a bit.”
She patted his cheek playfully. “Such a sweet boy.”
“Now I feel like a toddler. Thanks.”
“It’s a mother’s job.”
His mom disappeared into the kitchen and he headed into the living room. The high vaulted ceiling with two bay windows faced East and, between those windows, stood an eight-foot-tall Noble fir without lights or ornaments adorning it’s branches. Perfectly prepared for tonight's activities. His parents took in dozens of foster kids over the years, but they’d only adopted four. Unofficially, he made five. Isabel, Savannah, Forrest, and Grayson.
Isa was two years older than him. After college, she’d taken a job at Mike’s trucking company running the office, where she’d met Gil, one of Mike's drivers, and fallen head over heels in love. They’d married five years ago and, along with a very sassy three-year-old niece, Alana, Isa was seven months pregnant with his nephew, Simon.
Savannah, Forrest, and Grayson were biological siblings. Savannah was the eldest at twenty-five, then Forrest at twenty-three, and Grayson rounded out the trio at twenty.
Sometimes they’d get a surprise guest, but for the most part, they were the only ones who showed up.
His dad sat in his recliner, watching an action movie with Forrest, Grayson, and Isabel’s husband, Gil. His dad lost at least thirty pounds since his diagnosis and even though they’d removed his prostate and labeled him cancer free, he still hadn’t quite bounced back.
Mike looked up when Jared put his hand on his shoulder.
“Nice Christmas movie, Pop.”
Mike looked up at him, patting Jared’s hand. “Hey there. Your mom said I couldn’t watch any without her.”
“Still only one a night?"
“I can’t stay up the way I used to. I barely make it through one.”
“I’m the same way, Pop. Don’t feel bad.” He sent a salute toward the others. "Sup, guys?”
Gil raised his beer to him, while Forrest stood up and gave him a one-
armed hug. Several inches shorter than Jared’s six-foot three, Forrest made up for the lack of height in breadth, the kind of stocky that genetics played a huge part in and five days at the gym created the rest. Jared spent hours at the gym for years just to put on fifty pounds of muscle.
