Page 123 of Elf-ish

The kitchen is silent for a minute before Gertie says, “Well, if he won’t join the party, the party should join him.”

“Gertie,” I groan. “I can’t invade Jude’s space.” He doesn’t want to be with me today.

But then what was last night? The romantic setup. The chocolate and champagne. The strawberries and cream he’d painted over my body.

A shiver ripples up my spine.

Did he want to be alone? Or was last night his quiet plea to be with someone? To celebrate with me?

“Gran . . .” Suddenly, I’m setting down the pancake bowl and swiping my hands on a dishtowel. “I think I need . . . I should . . . I might . . .”

“We’re right there with you.” Gran is the first to jump up from the table. Opening the fridge, she’s already pulling out the butcher-paper wrapped roast and the bag of fresh green beans.

“What are you doing?” I chuckle anxiously.

“If he won’t come here for Christmas, we’ll take Christmas to him.”

I glance at my sister who hollers toward her sons. “Everyone pick two items and then get dressed. We’re going on a holiday adventure.”

“This is crazy,” I state, staring at my sister and then turning toward Gran.

“Any crazier than Beau getting married two days ago to a girl he met while drunk on a plane?” Christmas snorts, patting my shoulder.

Beau is always going to one-up the rest of us.

And I watch as my family goes into snowstorm mode, packing up our meal, and gathering the boys and their new toys, before we head out to Christmas’s van in hopes of restoring the holiday for Jude.

chapter 40

[Jude]

I stare at my father a moment too long before Mae, his wife, clears her throat. She’s a beautiful brunette woman, close to my dad’s age, and everything opposite my mother. A little carefree; a lot lighthearted, and she makes my dad smile like I’ve never seen before.

“Surprise,” Mae says, making jazz hands from where they stand in the hallway.

“Merry Christmas, son,” Tucker says, hesitantly.

I’ve been ambushed, and they know it.

Julia!

Still, I know my sister did this out of love. Fear and love. Fear she’d lose me and love.

Don’t you leave me, Jude.

My guardian angel was not my sister, but Julia has been a steady force for most of my life, and I appreciate what she’s trying to do. I accept it.

“Merry Christmas, Dad.” My voice is rough as I step back and wave for them to enter my place.

As soon as Tucker and Mae enter, Lolly breaks free of Julia and races for them.

“Boppa,” she cries out. “Mimi.”

Like a punch to the gut, I realize that Julia’s children have only ever known Mae. She is their grandmother, not our mom. Another thought hits. She’ll be better at the position.

And in our mix and match of family, nothing follows a straight line.

With Lolly in Tucker’s arms, she says, “Can we open presents now?”