Page 120 of Elf-ish

“Are you Santa Claus?” She eyes me with suspicion. “You don’t look like Santa Claus.”

I bite my lower lip, fighting a smile. “No. I’m your Uncle Jude.”

“Hey, Jude,” a masculine voice sings, and I glance further down the hallway to see the sleepy father of this little one exiting my bedroom. My brother-in-law loves to sing the song I’m named after, like it’s a joke, when he bears the nickname for a motorcycle.

In the name of Christmas, what the . . .

“Chopper.” I slowly stand to greet the heavily tattooed man wearing a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants, who scoops up his daughter, pressing kisses to her neck, which causes her to squeal. He carries her to the end of the hallway, but not into the open space of the living room and kitchen.

“Did you peek?” Chopper questions. “What did Mama say? No peeking. You need to come get her and me first.”

Slowly, I glance at the presents, realizing that my sister and her family have invaded my home, bringing their Santa duties with them, for Christmas.

“What the fuck?”

Chopper gives me a scathing look as I finish speaking, while Lolly quips, “He said a bad word, Daddy.”

“He did say a bad word.” Chopper continues to glare at me. He’d be scary if I didn’t know he’s a teddy bear for my sister and their kids. “I bet Santa didn’t bring him any presents.”

“But Santa brought me presents. Right, Daddy?” she squeezes her father’s cheeks to gain his attention.

“I bet Santa brought you lots of presents.” Chopper rubs his nose against hers, and she giggles again.

“And I bet . . . Uncle Jude would like to know how Santa got here.” I arch a brow at my brother-in-law.

“He drove his sleigh,” Lolly explains, like I don’t know the details.

Chopper shifts Lolly to his hip. “And a delayed flight from L.A.” Chopper narrows his eyes one more time, imparting the situation.

My sister brought her family to me on one of the busiest days for travel in an airport.

Behind Chopper, who still holds Lolly in the tunnel of the hallway, my sister approaches her husband and wraps her arms around him from the back. Chopper shifts to kiss her.

“Merry Christmas,” she says softly to him.

“Merry Christmas, cupcake.”

Lolly giggles again and reaches for her mother.

“I’ll get the boys,” he comments, before sparing me another glance, threatening me to be nice to his wife.

I don’t need the warning.

With Lolly on Julia’s hip, twinning in a way, my sister stares at me. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not,” I admit, glancing back at the pile of presents and sighing heavily. Despite the exhale, I’m not upset. In fact, I feel strangely lighter, almost pleased that she is present.

“You scared me,” she whispers.

My head swings back in her direction. Instantly, I realize what I’ve done. The heart attack. My sister has always been a worrywart, and she might have been afraid she’d lose me in an instant, like we lost our mom.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I weakly attempt to reassure her. I pat my chest. “Made of steel.”

If only that were true, because it aches this morning. While I feel like my heart fills my chest, it also feels strangely empty. Like an inflated balloon.

“You know I’ve always doubted that,” Julia says about my heart, hitching Lolly higher on her hip.

I finally approach my sister. “But you’ve never doubted me, and that’s all that matters.” Standing right in front of her, I stroke a shaky hand down Lolly’s wild curls. She tucks her head into my sister’s shoulder, and I pull back.