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The sun shone warm for a Christmas Eve morning, and the family trickled onto the back southern-facing deck as the fog burned away. Dressed in thick hoodies, feet in socks and slippers, the adults found their way to a spot near the railing, each holding a plate of warm cinnamon rolls and a mug of something steamy and delicious.
“The frost on the pines looks magical,” Audrey said wistfully.
“Does it make you homesick?” Megan asked. “Because home is definitely sick for you.”
Brayden stood behind Audrey and wrapped one strong arm around her so that she could lean back against him. Covering her growing baby bump, Audrey sighed. “Not too homesick usually. I think we’re too busy. But this baby . . .” She made a face that said the rest. The nausea hadn’t gone away, despite being five months in.
“Well, I think Brayden needs to hurry up and be a real doctor so you can come home.” Megan turned her sassy expression to Brayden. “I still haven’t forgiven you, by the way.”
“I know.” Brayden hung his head in mock shame. “I will bring her back, I promise.”
Helen wasn’t sure about all that had passed between Brandon and Megan and Brayden and Audrey, other than that Megan and Audrey had always been close—and somehow Brayden had turned things awry for a time. But she was relieved to see a playful banter between them.
She also didn’t miss the way Megan had eyed Audrey’s baby bump with a longing look, or the brief moment when she’d surreptitiously covered her own womb with her palm. Perhaps now, after five years of marriage, it was time. A would-be grandmother could hope. But she wouldn’t say anything. Especially knowing how much Jacob and Kate had struggled with several miscarriages. One just never knew, and Helen didn’t want to bring up anything that would be hurtful.
Jackson stood up from his leaning position on the rail and raised his mug. “I’m in for another. Anyone else want a refill?”
Jacob passed his mug and his empty plate to Jackson. “No on the roll—just thought you’d play busboy.” He tipped a half grin. “But I’ll take more coffee.”
“As you wish. Snob.” Jackson elbowed Jacob, and both men chuckled.
Helen’s heart buoyed at their interaction. There had been a time when those two boys couldn’t hold a civil conversation—forget any sort of bantering. Things had been so much better between that pair for the past few years. Amazing what a little bit of humility and honesty and forgiveness could do. Not to mention her butting out.
Praise God, He does work miracles.
Turning toward Connor and Jade, who stood side by side on the opposite part of the deck, Jackson looked at the newest part of the group. “How about you, Jade? Surely you’re going to need more than one cup of coffee to survive this rowdy bunch.”
The woman gave him a small smile. “I’d take a refill. Thank you.”
“You’re not going to offer to get me one?” Connor said wryly.
“You’ve got legs.” Jackson turned toward a different brother. “Tyler though. I’d gladly help you out, brother.”
Tyler shoved Jackson’s shoulder as he laughed. “Thanks. I’ve also got legs. Can outclimb you any day of the week, and I can probably outrun you these days too.”
Patting his gut, which was a little more than it had been ten years ago when he’d been bound and determined to qualify for the Boston Marathon, Jackson feigned an injured look. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying the Boston is likely in your rearview mirror.”
“Huh.” Jackson scowled. Then he turned to head inside but paused just long enough to wink in Jade’s direction.
Jade looked . . . baffled. Poor girl. Likely this sounded awful to her—especially if her ex-husband was, as Helen could guess after the conversation with Lily that morning, an unkind man. Hopefully, her ornery sons weren’t scaring Jade off.
“He’s teasing,” Helen said. “They’re all teasing.”
“I told you they were a bunch of ruffians and thugs.” Lauren smiled and gripped Jade’s hands.
“Not even close.” Matt draped his arm around his wife. “We’re all a bunch of overgrown teddy bears. Just ask Megan. She’s stuck with the worst of us, and he’s not so bad.”
Megan giggled, and Brandon scowled, right up until he looked down at his wife, at which point he turned to complete mush. Just like his dad. “Am I the worst?”
“I think I remember saying that to you at some point,” Megan said. “And I wasn’t just talking about the Murphy men.”
“Here we are though. Mr. and Mrs.”
“Weird.” Megan lifted to her toes and kissed Brandon’s cheek. “But I’ll keep you.”
From inside the house, Jackson called back, “Tyler, I’m gonna call you out on that, so you’d better find yourself a running leg, and then you’d better start training.”
