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We all fell into a rhythm, collaborating in the kitchen effortlessly—except for Mason, who managed to turn even the simplest tasks into epic fiascos. Yet his blunders only added to the humor of the afternoon.
We reminisced about past escapades, cracked jokes, and despite the curveball Eric had been thrown earlier, there was an undercurrent of acceptance that made the room hum with genuine warmth.
During a lull in the conversation, Eric caught my eye. “You know,” he began, taking another sip of his drink, “when I told you guys you could use the cabin, I had no idea Zoey was planning on coming here, too. Seeing all of you here together—” He gestured around. “—is a shock, but it’s undeniable that there’s something special between all of you. While it’s a lot to take in, I’ve known you guys for years. You’ve always been like family, and I trust you.”
Holding a tray of freshly baked rolls, Zoey walked over and hugged her brother tightly. “Thank you, Eric. You don’t know how relieved I am that you’re taking this so well.”
As the day wore on and the delicious feast took shape, the dynamics of our relationships continued to be a topic of light-hearted jest and discussion. Eric’s initial shock seemed to have transformed into genuine acceptance, buoyed by the evident love we all had for Zoey.
Dinner was made up of dishes that represented a little bit of all of us. Zoey had prepared a mouthwatering balsamic Brussels sprouts dish and cranberry sauce with hints of orange zest, while I’d taken the lead on the turkey, stuffing, and gravy.
Bodhi concocted a series of drinks—alcoholic and non-alcoholic—that perfectly complemented each course, from refreshing citrus aperitifs to warm, spiced digestifs.
And Mason, well, he was in charge of the playlist, setting the mood with a mix of Christmas classics and upbeat tracks that had us all humming along.
As we settled down to eat, the room was filled with the sound of clinking glasses, laughter, and appreciative murmurs over the delicious meal.
After an exceptionally flavorful bite of the mashed potatoes Zoey and I had worked on, Eric raised his glass. “To unexpected surprises,” he toasted, his gaze lingering on Zoey for a moment, “and to memories we’ll cherish.”
We all joined in, clinking our glasses together in agreement.
Zoey’s cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink, her eyes shining with unshed tears of happiness. “To family, in every form it takes.”
The evening was capped off by her bringing out a beautifully decorated Christmas cake, candles glowing softly. “In honor of our first Christmas together,” she said, her eyes shining with emotion.
The five of us sat around the table, a mismatched family bound by ties deeper than blood.
Zoey, her fingers wrapped around her glass, raised an eyebrow, “So, I was talking to this coworker of mine last year, and she said she’s never had a real Christmas tree. Can you imagine? Only artificial trees her whole life!”
I raised my hand sheepishly. “Guilty. We’ve always had artificial trees. Easier, no mess, and they look perfect every year.”
Bodhi smirked. “Well, of course. Why go for the real thing when you can have a perfectly plastic representation of it? Just like some people’s personalities.”
Mason, missing the playful jab, nodded in agreement. “Exactly!”
Zoey laughed. “Fake trees don’t have the amazing scent!”
“And let’s not forget the tradition,” Eric remarked. “Going out as a family, picking the tree, arguing about which one is ‘perfect,’ and then realizing once you’ve set it up at home that it’s lopsided. It’s a beautiful mess.”
I countered, “And don’t even get me started on the needles everywhere. You’ll be finding them in June.”
Bodhi winked at Zoey. “Liam, there’s a special vacuum attachment for that.”
Mason added, “You know what you don’t have to do with an artificial tree? Water it. Or worry about it drying out and becoming a fire hazard.”
Zoey, feigning shock, said, “Oh, no! A small task to ensure a beautiful, fragrant, authentic Christmas experience. The horror!”
Everyone laughed.
When there was another lull in the conversation, Eric cleared his throat. “How are we going to tell Mom and Dad?”
And that was going to be our next challenge when they arrived in three days.
CHAPTER22
Zoey
Stretching out, I felt a comforting warmth beside me. Liam’s arm was draped protectively around my waist, and his hot breath on my neck sent shivers down my spine. Bodhi and Mason had slept in their beds the previous night.
