Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 12536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 63(@200wpm)___ 50(@250wpm)___ 42(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 12536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 63(@200wpm)___ 50(@250wpm)___ 42(@300wpm)
I think back to the months after Carrie almost lost her life in childbirth and my worry that she might want to risk having another baby. I dreaded the conversation because there’s no right or wrong option. All I knew was that I didn’t want Carrie to risk her life. I need her. Ethan needs her. Our children need her. Thankfully, Carrie was pragmatic, too. We are, and always will be, a family of five, and I’m alright with that.
“I think that Dr. Phil would tell you that communication is key. Why don’t you tell her what you told me, and at least give her the option?”
Harrison nods and is about to reply when we hear the patter of tiny feet coming down the hall.
“Daddy,” Abbey shouts. “Santa’s come.” She grabs for his hand, leaning her body weight toward the door as if to pull him in the direction she wants to go. Harrison lumbers to his feet, and the pure happiness on this face is heartwarming.
“Daddy N,” Emma shouts, barreling in behind Abbey. “Santa found us.”
Both my daughters were fretting when we left our house that Santa wouldn’t know where to deliver their presents. Somehow, Ethan managed to convince them of Santa’s all-knowing magical capabilities, so much so that I heard them reassuring Katelin’s and Bethany’s kids that everything was going to be fine, even though they were staying in a hotel.
“What’s going on?” Ethan yells from the bottom of the stairs, feigning confusion.
“Santa’s come,” all the girls yell together.
“Did he bring my presents too?” Ethan asks, jogging into the den like an overgrown kid. The real kids trail him, laughing their heads off, and I shake my head at my twin. Carrie and Jenna appear in the hallway, both bleary-eyed and with sleep mussed hair. Well, actually, it’s sex mussed.
“Is Ethan being a doofus?” Carrie asks, rolling her eyes.
“Yep,” I say. “But I think the kids appreciate it.”
“Coffee?” Harrison asks, strolling over to his wife and kissing her hard on the mouth.
“Coffee would be awesome,” Jenna says.
I gaze around at us, wondering where all the years have gone. Our days as frivolous college kids are over, but despite the passing of time, we’re all still the same. My mind drifts to imagining what we’ll be like when our kids are at college. We might have some gray hair creeping through, and some laughter lines, but underneath we’ll be the same stupid twenty-somethings who took chances on love and hit the jackpot.
5
KATELIN
I knew Christmas morning was going to be strange this year. It’s the first time we spent Christmas Eve in a motel, and the first time we’ve woken as a family away from home during the festive season.
Bryan wasn’t impressed when I insisted on packing a two-foot fake Christmas tree in my suitcase. It’s standing in the room's corner on a small oak table with all the presents piled beneath it. It’s an odd-looking sight - the presents are too large and plentiful and the tree too small - but setting it up last night made me feel truly festive.
There are three double beds in this family suite. Isobel is tucked into one with her brothers. Austin and Jason pushed together the other two as soon as we walked through the door: I couldn’t help but smile at their commitment to ensuring that we all slept together even when away from home.
A small beam of light has broken through a gap in the thick drapes and has caught the single gold star that I’ve clipped to the tree, refracting light through the room. It’s absolutely magical and I’m the only one awake to see it.
At least I think I am.
“You want to wake the kids, don’t you?” Austin asks, touching my cheek with the back of his thumb. I twist to face him, finding him staring at me through long lashes, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth with amusement.
“They never sleep in this late,” I whisper. “I know yesterday was full-on fun, but it’s Christmas morning. They’re usually awake at four am.”
“And you usually put them back to sleep again.”
“Well, everyone knows Santa doesn’t complete his rounds until six-thirty am.” I wiggle my eyebrows and Austin throws his arm over me and pulls me closer. His skin is so warm, and he smells of the ocean and summertime. Closing my eyes, I press light kisses to his shoulder, and he hums contentedly.
“I like it when we wake up first,” he says. “Just a few minutes of alone time before the rest want to steal your attention.”
“The rest are awake,” Jason says groggily from behind me. “But have your special time, Bro. It’s all good.”
Austin groans. “Somehow, you manage to make it less fun.”
“Play nice,” I say, even though I know that neither of them means anything bad by what they’re saying. There is only one of me, and now there are six people who need my attention. I’ve had to accept that I can only spread myself so thinly, and they’ve had to put some of their needs behind those of our children.