Page 62 of The Tartan Thesis

Callum smiles. “Oh, aye, you do believe in Santa, don’t ya, lad?”

I hedge a look over to Torin, who rolls his eyes.

“Of course he does, Dad,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Everyone knows Santa Claus is real.”

My confusion must be apparent because Freya chimes in, “Just agree, otherwise Dad might take those presents back.”

“Absolutely,” Callum confirms. “We have a strict policy in this house: if you don’t believe, you don’t receive.”

“Even though we’re clearly adults,” Torin says under his breath.

I laugh and raise my hands in surrender. “I’m a believer. In fact, I think I even heard some reindeer on the roof last night,” I say, pointing to my flashing antlers.

Freya groans. “Please don’t encourage him.”

“There’s a good lad,” Callum tells me. “Now let’s see what he’s brought you.”

The room fills with the sound of chatter, tearing paper, and rustling tissue as we open our gifts. There’s a history of Scottish swearwords from Freya, which immediately becomes the subject of much discussion, then a Scottish cookbook, a bottle of my favorite whisky, and a plush Highland cow from Santa. Another small box contains a gift card to a clothing shop with a note that says For your first proper kilt. Love, Margaret & Callum. I only choke up briefly, hoping that my parents will do something similar someday when I take someone home to meet them.

Then I open Torin’s gift, a shallow silver cup with two flat handles sticking out on either side, the words We’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne, etched into the bowl.

Torin is watching me when I look up. “It’s a quaich,” he says. “It’s used at ceilidhs, weddings, births, any kind of celebration or life event. It was also used in the past to welcome a guest.” He points at the sides. “It has two handles because when you drink with both hands, you show you’re unarmed. It’s also communal, so it’s passed around as part of the celebration.”

“You’ll be wanting to practice, then, aye?” Callum asks, opening the bottle of whisky I’d gifted to him.

“No, that’s for you,” I tell him.

“Don’t be daft. Whisky is meant to be shared. Bring your quaich over here.”

Dumping a healthy pour into the cup, he says, “Drink up, lad,” and I do, the whisky smokier than I usually drink but still good. I pass it to him, and he says, “Slàinte mhath,” before taking a swig. He tries to pass it to Margaret, but she is pulling a blanket-sized tartan cashmere scarf out of a large box.

“Oh, Beau, you shouldn’t have,” she gushes.

Freya has one too, which she’s already wrapped around herself like a shawl. She takes the quaich from her dad and says, “Hush, Mum. I’m not giving mine back.”

“I’m glad you like them,” I say.

Torin seems pleased with the workout clothes I got for him. He recently bought an outfit for the gym so he’s not always wearing my old stuff, but his new shorts are long. I like seeing his sexy legs when we work out together, so the skimpier clothes I gave him are sort of a gift for both of us.

I spend the rest of the day helping Margaret and Freya in the kitchen but get hauled outside to help lift a heavy piece of equipment in one of the outbuildings. It’s a busy day, but it’s actually really nice. Margaret opens my cookbook and shows me how to make cranachan, Freya tells me increasingly embarrassing stories about Torin, and Callum pats me on the back and says, “There’s a good lad,” anytime I help him with something.

I text Maeve a Merry Christmas, and she reminds me to take action on my feelings for Torin. She’s relentless. But I do need to figure out what to do about my ever-growing crush.

My parents video call when my nieces and nephews unwrap their presents, which is adorable, as always. Torn wrapping paper flies everywhere while the kids shriek over toys and candy. They pass the phone to my granny, and I swallow my homesickness while we talk. She’s the only reason I considered going back to the US for the holidays. God, I miss her.

The Pigeons are agents of chaos, as usual.

Lucas

Pretty sure I’m dying.

Juliana

don’t die we love you

Beau

What did you do?