Christmas With the Reeds Read online

I walk with them into our apartment building and go up a set of stairs. At the top, I stop and take out a key. I open the door and let them walk inside, turning on the lights. “You asked for a home, right?” I ask the little girl.

  She nods and grins.

  I hold my hands out. “Santa said this was for you.”

  It’s just a one-bedroom apartment, and it’s furnished sparsely, but it’s more than they’re used to.

  “This is for us?” she asks.

  I nod. “Santa said so.” I look at the older girl and I see a spark of hope in her eyes. “It’s yours for three months. Take some time and figure out where you want to go and what you want to be. It’s safe here, and it’s yours. You’ll have to share a room.”

  She chokes out her next words. “I’m okay with that!” Then she hugs me. I try not to think about what she would have been doing tonight if Logan and I hadn’t bumped into her on that street corner, because I know there are so many more just like her that we can’t help. But we helped this one, and I love that we are in a position where we can help anyone. “Thank you,” she says softly by my ear.

  I give her a key, and we lock up behind us. There’s already food in the fridge, and we have gift cards to give them for clothes and necessities that were donated by local businesses.

  We go back to the shelter and she and her little sister eat again, and they stop and talk with some other people. She looks younger than she did before. There’s a spark in her eye and a spring to her step, and I can’t help but feel good about that.

  I can’t feel anything but grateful today. Grateful and wholeheartedly in love with my life, with my husband, and with my daughter.

  Logan winks at me from across the room. I have a special present for him later. I lay my hand on my belly and close my eyes. I just hope he loves it.

  Reagan

  I spent the entire evening in a room full of people, both men and women, and I didn’t have a panic attack or feel overwhelmed even once. It helped that Pete kept his eyes on me, and I knew his brothers would rally around me at the first sign of trouble, but I also like knowing that I can do this on my own. I can conquer my fears. I can take care of myself and the people I love.

  I look down into Kennedy’s crib and watch her lips smack softly like she’s still sucking on a bottle. She’s on her back and she’s all nice and warm in footed pajamas, since we can’t keep covers on her.

  Pete stops in the doorway. He’s wearing a pair of red and green pajama bottoms and nothing else. He lifts his hands up to tag the doorframe and hangs there for a minute, his eyes sliding up and down my body. But then our cat, Ginger, starts to wrap herself up in his feet, weaving small circles while her kitty purrs rumble through the air. Pete picks her up so he can scratch beneath her chin. The purrs get louder.

  I sit down in the rocker in Kennedy’s room and draw my legs under my T-shirt, because there’s a Christmas chill in the air. “Tonight was pretty wonderful, wasn’t it?” I say.

  “Yes, it was.”

  He sets Ginger down and comes to stand in front of me. He sinks to his knees on the soft carpet, pulls my legs down, and then spreads my knees wide so he can get between them. I lock my feet behind his back, and he stands up with me clutching him like a Velcro monkey. His hands knead my bottom, and I suddenly wish I didn’t have on panties, so he could just sink inside me.

  Pete used to be so careful with me, but now it’s just me and him and everyday life, and he’s gotten over his fears of hurting me. Part of that is because I got over the fear of him hurting me, too. There was a little part of me that still flinched at times when he moved too quickly or startled me. I hated that it happened, even more than he did. But after Kennedy was born, all that fell by the wayside.

  Pete is the man I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with. I know that. He knows that.

  He lays me on the bed and stares down at me. Then he pulls my panties off and proceeds to rock my world, just like he always does.

  When we’re both sated, he pulls me to lie on his shoulder, and I wrap my arms around him.

  I fall asleep to the rhythm of the beat of his heart.

  ***

  The next morning, we get up really early and go to Paul and Friday’s apartment, because all the little kids slept over there. They camped out in Hayley’s room in sleeping bags. We didn’t stay over because Kennedy is too young for Santa, but I look forward to the day when she can spend the night with her cousins and be excited, listening for the noises of Christmas.

  No matter what, we want to be there before the kids wake up so we can see their faces. We don’t even get dressed. We go in our pajamas, and I know everyone else will be doing the same thing.

  The lights are twinkling on the Christmas tree, and Paul and Friday have a pot of coffee on the counter. Pete pours a cup for me, and we stand around and talk quietly while all the adults find their way into the room. The kids aren’t far behind.

  They’re like scurrying mice as they step past the doorway. Then they skid into the room on socked or slippered feet.

  PJ is still too small to know what’s going on, just like Kennedy, but Matt’s kids, Kit, and Hayley are all over the gifts under the tree. Seth helps to sort them out and makes sure each kid gets the right gift, and we make them take turns opening them so we can be sure who gets what.

  Paul and Matt have a toolbox between them on the floor putting together toys that didn’t come assembled properly, and Pete and Sam clean up the paper that’s all over the floor. Logan takes pictures. Lots of pictures.

  Pete disappears down the hallway and comes back with a small box with holes in the sides. “What is that?” I ask as he sets it down in front of me.

  “Don’t know. Santa left it.”

  The box lets out a whimper and my eyes go wide. He didn’t!

  I lift the top and out of the box scampers the most adorable little fuzzball I’ve ever seen. It looks so much like my Maggie that tears fill my eyes.

  “Oh, don’t cry,” Pete says, sitting down beside me. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

  I punch his arm. “I’m not sad, you doofus. This is the best present ever.” Right after Pete and I met, my dog Maggie died. I have wanted another dog, but never found the time to actually look for one.

  “You like him?” he asks.

  I lift the puppy into my arms and he starts to lick my face, his sandpaper tongue scraping my chin. “I love it.”

  “It’s a boy. I hope that’s all right.”

  “It’s perfect.” I squeeze my eyes shut, because my new puppy is licking my tears.

  He looks a lot like Maggie, and I can tell he’s some sort of a border collie mix, but I can also tell that he looks enough not like her that he won’t make my heart ache every time I look at him.

  “Where did you get him?” I ask.

  “Mrs. Jenkins from down the hall. Her dog had puppies, so I told her I wanted one.” He leans over to look into my eyes. “Do you really like him? If not, we can give him back.”

  “Try it and I will chop your nuts off.”

  Pete laughs and grabs his gonads. “You get more and more like your father every day, you know that?”

  I laugh and show the new puppy to my daughter. She kicks her feet and coos.

  “Merry Christmas,” Pete murmurs against my lips as he kisses me.

  Sky

  I try to take a minute every day to stop and count my blessings, because they are many and I am so very grateful. I watch the children as they tear into their Christmas presents, and then I see Seth sitting on the end of the sofa. He’s wearing red and green pajamas just like the little kids, and my heart squeezes because he works so hard to be a part of the family.

  Seth left for college and it was a job getting him to go. I think some part of him felt like he needed to stay in the neighborhood for his sisters, and it took some time for Matt to convince him that he wants to be the girls’ father, and that Seth can be their brother. Their brother who isn’t responsible for th
eir wellbeing all the time.

  He finally left for college, and it has been easier with the girls since then, I hate to say. They still had a tendency to go to Seth for permission or for help, particularly when they weren’t getting their way. But since he has been gone, he’s starting to act a little more like a brother rather than a father.

  I lean back against the couch beside his legs and he nudges my shoulder with his knee. “Merry Christmas, Aunt Sky,” he says. He doesn’t call me Mommy, not like his sisters do. But they have very few memories of their mother, and Seth remembers a lot. He was almost sixteen when she died, so he had her for a lot longer.

  I lean my head on his knee. “Merry Christmas, Seth.” He pats the top of my head, awkwardly, because he’s still a teenager and he’s all elbows and knees. “What was it like when your mom was alive, Seth?” I ask quietly. “Was it noisy like this?” I motion toward all the commotion.

  “No.” He smiles softly. “It was quiet. The girls were little, and Mom was sick, so we had a calm Christmas.” He sits quietly for a moment. “I wish she were here. She would love this.”

  “You think so?”

  He nods. “She always wanted a bigger family. Although I’m not sure anyone asks for a family quite this big.” He chuckles.

  I reach into my pocket and pull out a gift I had made especially for him. I lay it in his lap. “This is for you.”

  He flips it over in his hand. “Aunt Sky,” he says quietly. “Can I tell you something?”

  I prop my chin on his knee and look up at him. “You can tell me anything,” I say.

  “Sometimes, I’m afraid my mother will get her feelings hurt if I love you too much, you know?” he says. “So, I just wanted to tell you that even though I didn’t take your last name, and I didn’t get adopted like the girls did, I feel like you’re my mom and Matt’s my dad, and I love that you took that spot in my life. If I could pick anyone to be my mom in the whole wide world, it would be you.”

  I tip my face into his pajama leg, because he’s just wrapped a fist around my heart and squeezed. When I can breathe, I lift my face. “I may not have given birth to you, Seth, but you have become my son. And I don’t think your mom would be jealous. I think she would be happy that you have people in your life that you can come to like you would natural-born parents.”

  “My real dad is alive, Sky, and I haven’t seen him in two years. So I think it’s safe to assume that Matt’s as close to a dad as I’m ever going to get. He’s so much better than the real one.” He grins down at me. “Do you think you could get him to stop texting me to tell me to use a condom every time I go on a date, though?”

  I shake my head. “Probably not.”

  He laughs and tears at the paper on his package, almost like he’s afraid to open it. Then he pulls the tiny pendant on a simple gold chain from the box and lets it dangle in front of him. When you first look at it, you only see the words “Strong, brave, proud.” But when the light hits it, you can see an etched image in the gold that shows a picture of him with his mother.

  “Wow, Aunt Sky, that’s beautiful.” He lets it shimmer in front of his face, taking in the facets of it. “Sometimes I forget what she looked like. What she sounded like. This is great. Thank you so much.”

  He reaches behind his neck to clasp the chain, and then grabs the pendant in his fist. “Truly, Sky. I love it.” He leans down to kiss my cheek, and says really close to my ear, “I don’t think she’d mind you being my mom. You’re pretty awesome.”

  Mellie and Joey come running over and climb in my lap. I let them knock me over, and then Hoppy and Matty come too, and they climb into the pile. I scream, “Help me, Seth!” from the pile, but I don’t want to get out of it. I love every minute of my life.

  I see Matt’s red and green socks right by my head. He leans down. “Does Mommy need some help?”

  “Please!” I cry. I pretend to bat at the kids, but I’m really tickling them. They giggle and fall off the pile, and then climb back on.

  Matt starts to pluck them off one by one until I’m a breathless mess on the floor trying to catch my wits so I can sit up. He holds a hand out to me.

  Around noon, Friday’s son Jacob shows up with his mom and dad. He brought a few of his favorite toys that Santa brought for him and Friday has a few under her tree for him to open too. Then her friends Garrett and Cody show up with their daughter Tuesday. And we’re all suddenly really glad we renovated the apartments so there’s more room.

  There are people everywhere. But that’s what it’s like at the Reeds’.

  Emily’s parents come by, and my mom and dad drop by briefly. People are in and out all day long. We stay, because we don’t want to be anywhere else. This is our family. It’s big and loud and we don’t want to change it. I want my kids to be steeped in the same love and compassion that Matt was, and I want it all to carry over. It’s so different from my own childhood.

  Matt puts his arm around me. “You doing okay?” he asks. “Would you rather go home?”

  I shake my head and step onto my tiptoes so I can kiss his cheek. “Nope. I want to be here.”

  “Has anyone seen Josh today?” Pete asks.

  “I’ll call him,” Sam says. But the phone rings and rings and rings. “I wonder where he is,” Sam muses.

  Josh

  This morning I woke up in my own apartment in my own bed. It was soft and comfortable, completely unlike the mat at the prison. It was so comfortable that it was almost impossible to go to sleep.

  I rolled myself into my own shower and stayed in it as long as I wanted to, using the manly soaps and shaving cream someone had left for me. It has been a long time since I’ve experienced luxury like this.

  I still have a wad of hundred dollar bills in my pocket and I feel bad that I didn’t finish giving them out. It’s Christmas Day, and I have too much money. Money that’s not mine. I almost think I need to take it back to the Reeds, but I’m pretty sure that’s not what they’d want me to do with it.

  So, instead, I take myself to the hospital, to the long-term-care ward. It’s where I stayed after my accident, while I learned how to get myself around, transfer to a bed, learned how to dress myself, and do all the necessities. I want to go and talk to some of the patients there, to see if there’s anything I can do to help them.

  When I get there, I go to the nurses’ station and introduce myself. “Okay if I go and talk to some of the people here?”

  She shrugs. I don’t think she really wants to be here on Christmas Day.

  I roll down the hallway, peering into doors, until I see a young man propped up in a bed. “Merry Christmas,” I tell him. “Can I come in?”

  He nods warily. I introduce myself, and his mother comes back into the room, so I introduce myself to her too.

  “Are you with the hospital?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “How’s the rehab going?” I ask.

  “It’s going well. We’re waiting for a grant to go through so he can get a motorized chair.”

  Bingo! This is why I came here. “What do they cost?” I ask. “A lot?”

  “Several thousand. It’s like buying a car.” She titters nervously.

  I reach into my pocket and pull out a wad of cash. I count out hundreds and watch as her eyes grow wider and wider. “If this isn’t enough, come and see me at Reeds’ Tattoo shop, okay?” I tell her. I shake hands with the young boy. “Merry Christmas.”

  The mom can’t speak, but she hugs me and I leave with my heart feeling a little lighter.

  I give away a little more, and finally find a young boy who needs a computer so he can talk. It’s kind of like the one Pete’s friend Gonzo uses so he can type and have the computer speak for him. I give his dad some money and he’s almost speechless. “Who are you?” he finally asks.

  “Just a guy with some extra cash,” I tell him. Extra cash and guilt. I have a heavy heart, and this is actually helping, although it will never undo what I did, and I know that.

 
; I find a few homeless people and give out the last of the cash, and then I head back to my apartment. I go home. Because I have one. Of my very own.

  As I roll toward the front door, a little girl rushes to open it for me. Another girl, a little older, stands behind her. “Where’s your coat?” I ask. I mock a shiver. “It’s cold out.”

  “Oh, we weren’t leaving. We were just looking around.” She nods at her sister. “We just moved in.”

  “Me too.”

  “Do you know the Reeds?” the older girl asks.

  “Yes.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Are they really this kind? Or is there something I should be worried about?”

  I laugh. “They’re just this kind.”

  She lets out a breath. “Oh, good.” She turns to walk away, but calls over her shoulder, “Merry Christmas!”

  I get in the elevator and almost hit the button for my floor, but I hit the one for Paul’s apartment instead. I know they’ll all be there, and I probably shouldn’t go, but I like what they all have together. I’ll only stay for a few minutes.

  I knock on the door and Friday opens it. She’s in red and green pajamas and I almost turn around and leave, but then I realize everyone else is in their pajamas too.

  “Merry Christmas,” Friday tells me. I roll into the room and stop. “Josh!” A roomful of male voices calls out. My face heats up. I don’t know why. But this feeling of belonging with these people…it just doesn’t feel right. Yet.

  “Merry Christmas,” I reply.

  “I’ll take your coat.” Friday holds out her hand.

  “Oh, I’m not saying long,” I tell her.

  “Oh, yes you are,” she says. “The boys are going to play Monopoly, and I hate that game. They need someone else to play.” She cups her hand around her mouth. “Apparently, it’s something they used to do on Christmas Day with their parents. I always end up wanting to slap Paul every time he makes me play, so you can take my place.”

  “I don’t know how to play Monopoly,” I admit.

  “Oh, they’ll teach you. Rule of thumb, though—buy everything.”