Susan grimaced. “Honey, you know that this evening is supposed to be all about us not stressing ourselves out, remember? Besides, you just did the bathrooms last weekend. These are our friends. No one will mind if they can’t see their reflection in the faucet.”
“Do you think, I don’t see what you’re up to?” Donna grinned and lightly tapped the tip of Susan’s nose. “You just want to have me sitting on the couch and watching Sherlock with you.”
“You caught me.” Susan smiled and shrugged. “It’s just that over the last couple of weeks, you were everywhere but here, and next there will be the New Year’s event at the music hall that you have to put the finishing touches on. It’s just… I miss you. I’d like to spend a little alone time with you, before…” She patted her round belly.
“But I really need to wipe the—”
“Donna!”
Donna eyed her for a moment, then capitulated with a smile. She reached for Susan’s hand and intertwined their fingers. She sighed dramatically. “Okay, no bathrooms. But…at least let me finish the list. Please?”
Susan rolled her eyes, but nodded. “That’s fair.”
Donna smiled as she took a deep breath to enumerate the last few points.
“Sooo. Owen will be here about four to make the dessert. Cream and eggs are here, the rest he’ll bring himself. Lailani and Rupert will arrive at five, as will Bruce and Phineas. That reminds me, we need to get the ramp out.” Switching gears, Donna gestured toward the pile of packages of pasta she’d bought. “You think that will be enough?”
“We could feed a whole football team and all their cheerleaders, and still have leftovers to pack doggy bags for everyone who is coming.”
Donna winced at the reminder that she had probably bought enough food and drink for an army. “Yeah, I know. It’s just that a pasta buffet seems a little lame to me. I mean, I set up events in five star hotels. Shouldn’t I have come up with something fancier than pasta for Christmas?”
“Donna, take a deep breath. Christmas is over. We are just going to have a nice evening with our friends—no traditions, no pressure, no perfection. Just having some fun and relaxing with people who really care about each other. It was your idea. So, relax. Maybe it’s ‘just pasta’ to you, but we all agreed on it, and we have two brilliant hobby cooks coming as well as a former professional confectioner. Everything will be all right. Okay?”
Donna’s gaze shifted from Susan’s face to the completed chores on the list between them, then back again. “Okay,” she finally agreed. “But I’m positive I have forgotten something important.”
“If it’s really something important, it will come back to you soon enough. But now—you, me, sofa, and Sherlock!”
* * *
“God, Bruce, that smells delicious. What are you making?”
Donna was back in the kitchen after having helped Susan serve drinks to Lailani, Owen, and Seymour in the living room, and Rupert and Phineas at the dining table, playing Jenga with Abby.
Bruce smiled and shrugged. “My own creation, and Phineas’ favorite pasta sauce. It’s quite simple. Just white wine, cream, and pears. I’m guessing you’d like a bite?” He took a spoon from the silverware drawer and rolled his wheelchair back a bit so Donna could get closer to the stove.
She dipped her spoon into the sauce, blew on the bubbling concoction, and then took a small taste. She closed her eyes as she savored the treat, then she reached out blindly and squeezed his shoulder.
“This is so good. Thank you for making this.”
“The least I could do.” Bruce helped himself to a spoonful of Lailani’s peanut butter sauce, which was in a pan on the other hotplate. He looked at the open kitchen door, then said quietly, “So, how’s Susan? Don’t take this the wrong way, but…she doesn’t look too good.”
Donna threw a glance at the door. She heard Lailani laughing and glasses clinking. “The…baby is fine. It’s just that the last two days have been exhausting.”
“Your parents?” Bruce studied her face.
Donna nodded. “Susan and I actually ended up having an argument about whose parents are worse.”
“Oh? Sounds thrilling. Who won?”
“We couldn’t decide. But I still think mine are the clear winners. Susan thinks her parents win because they kinda called me slut, in front of my daughter. And I couldn’t defend myself, not at their table.” She bit her lip. “I guess I didn’t say anything because I think they’re right. I mean…they did catch me flirting with a waitress at the charity ball. I had no clue they’d be there, but that’s really no excuse. That makes me a slut, doesn’t it? But Susan says that’s something between her and me, that it’s not her parents’ business. And it’s not like I’ve ever been welcome in their home. They just finally had a reason to express their dislike for me out loud.”
“Sounds like an amazing evening.” Bruce switched off the hotplate and then turned back to Donna. “So, what did your parents do to top being humiliated in front of one’s child between entrée and dessert?”
Donna snorted. “Well, I can’t really put my finger on it. It wasn’t really anything they said. It was…subtle. My sister and her husband were there, too, with my nephews. Guess what my parents got them as present. A complete Playmobil knight’s castle. And guess what they had for Abby. A pair of gloves and a book. Some story about a speaking dog.” She flung her hands in the air, then dropped them in defeat. “It’s not about the presents. We all know that Abby has everything she could ever want, and then some. It’s not about the book, but they practically treated their granddaughter as bastard child. They didn’t even bother to ask what Abby might like. Besides, real grandparents would know. Hell, Abbys is twelve, and even you know that she doesn’t read animal stories anymore.”
Bruce nodded and shared a sad smile with her. “I’m sorry to hear that. Hope Abby is okay.”
“I’m not sure. I guess she was probably disappointed, but she didn’t let it show.” She sighed. “But what about you? I’m guessing your Christmas wasn’t any better.”
“Actually, it started out not too badly. I was drinking egg punch with Phineas’ mother and watching Some Like It Hot. But when I was tipsy and encouraged enough to dare, I called my mother. Talked to her for not even two minutes. ‘Everybody is fine. She is fine. Father is fine. Sister is fine. Nephew is fine. Thank you for your call. Hear you next year.’ She didn’t even ask how Phineas is doing.”
“Shit.” Donna frowned and bit her lip, then she took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and turned to the cupboard for some glasses. “Bruce, darling, you know what?” She grabbed the bottle of wine he had used in the pasta sauce, and poured them each a glass. “Christmas is over, and we survived another year. Tonight it’s less family and more of this. Cheers!”
* * *
Someone knocked at the door at the same moment the phone rang. Donna set her wineglass down on the coffee table and leaned back to look out the window, trying to peek around the corner of the house. She didn’t see a car.
“Wouldn’t it be easier if you just went to the door?” Susan grinned. “I’ll answer the phone.”
Donna wrinkled her nose at her wife, but got up from the sofa and stepped over some extended legs on her way to the front door. As she neared the Jenga players at the dining table, she saw that Phineas’ chair was blocking her way. When he didn’t notice her, she cleared her throat.
“Oh, sorry. Am I…? Yeah, um…sorry.” He flushed and shifted his chair aside, bumping against the table. “Oh shit!”
Phineas flung his hands forward to catch the tower of wooden Jenga bricks that was swaying dangerously, but he grabbed thin air. The tower toppled, some bricks flying over the edge of the table, and one of them tipping Rupert’s glass. The white wine splashed onto the table cloth, then missed Rupert’s leg by an inch as it formed into a puddle on the floorboards.
“Oh God. Shit! I’m sorry.” Phineas jumped up and leaned over the table, trying to catch the rolling
glass, but the sudden jolt moved it even closer to the edge. Before it could fall to the ground Rupert caught it with his left hand. “Shit! Oh, I didn’t mean to curse.” He flushed bright pink, then hid his face behind his hand. “Sorry.”
“Phineas?” Bruce’s voice from the kitchen held a hint of alarm. “You okay?”
“We’re all right. Everything’s under control,” Rupert called back, reaching for a paper napkin from the holder on the table.
Donna squeezed Phineas’ shoulder reassuringly and gently pushed him back onto his seat. “Don’t worry. Abby’s heard worse language.” She chuckled. “I’ll fetch you a cloth. Just let me open the front door first.”
Still grinning, Donna opened the front door and found Alexander, a bag filled with presents in each hand.
“Hey, merry after-Christmas!” Bags and all, he held his arms open for a hug.
Donna accepted the embrace, patting his back. “Good to see you. Come in.”
Alexander followed her in, placed his bags on the sideboard, and shrugged out of his cashmere coat.
“Would you mind hanging that up yourself? I need to get Phineas a cloth.”
Alexander threw a glance through the open living room door. When he saw Phineas kneeling with a paper napkin in hand, a broad grin settled on his face. “That’s funny. No matter what kind of party I attend—Phineas is always on his knees.”
“We’re lucky, this time it’s not raspberry juice on a white carpet,” Donna whispered.
“Well…I wasn’t exactly talking about his penchant for spilling drinks, but rather for his talent for certain other…activities.” He hung his coat on the rack. “But hey, the evening is far from over, hmm?” He winked at her.
Donna rolled her eyes, but winked back as she took the cloth Owen handed her from the kitchen doorway, a pastry tube in his other hand. She handed the cloth to Phineas as she passed through the dining room, and then proceeded into the living room.
Alexander picked up his bags of gifts and followed her. “Good evening, everybody.” He waved at the group in general and carefully stepped around Bruce’s boyfriend, a lascivious grin still on his face. “Merry Christmas, Abby.” He crouched down to give her a proper hug. “How’s your head doing?”
Donna smiled at seeing Alexander’s tenderness with his niece. She helped herself to one of Owen’s petit-fours from the tray on the coffee table. “Honey, who’s on the phone,” she hissed softly.
“Our stepson,” Susan said as she put the phone down. “Eric wanted to let us know that he’ll be late. He and Ridley are still at the office, fixing some bugs in the level design. Apparently their boss just told them that the new level has to go online next week.”
“The game with the little chocolate bars trying to survive the school yard? Cool.” Donna licked molten chocolate from her fingers. “Did they say how late they’ll be?”
“He said we shouldn’t wait dinner, but he’ll be furious if they arrive and we’ve already exchanged presents.”
Donna shrugged, emptied her glass, and took another chocolate. “Shouldn’t be a problem. We saved our holiday gift exchanging for this evening. An hour more or less doesn’t make a difference.”
“Is Eric your stepson, too?” Seymour asked softly, from the arm chair in the corner of the living room.
Susan smiled at his confusion. “I guess so. He’s Julius’ son, and we’re the mothers of Julius’ other children. Well, Abby is, of course, but soon to be plural.” She patted her belly.
“Seymour might have a point,” Donna mused. “Since neither of us is, or has been married to Julius.”
Alexander chuckled. “So by your reckoning, Seth is Julius’ partner, so he is Eric’s stepmother?”
“Um…” Lailani cleared her throat. “I still insist on being Julius’ only wife, so how about calling Seth Eric’s stepfather?”
“But isn’t Rupert his stepfather, since he is married to Lailani?” Susan protested.
Rupert chimed in from the dining table, “I don’t mind sharing. It’s fine with me if Eric has two stepfathers.”
“But we’re the mothers of his half-sister. Doesn’t that make us his stepmothers?” Susan leaned back on the sofa and took a sip of her tea.
Alexander stood close to the coffee table. “Logically, that should make you his half-mothers. But we could simply decide that Eric is too old for having stepparents. I mean…he’s just two years younger than Seth, so…”
Donna raised an eyebrow at Alexander. “Do I hear a note of…” She decided that she shouldn’t suggest “jealousy” as she had intended, so she substituted, “…a note of disapproval in your voice?”
“Out of my mouth? Concerning my brother? Never!” He hefted his bags of presents. “Um, shall I put these under the tree?” He nodded at the empty space under the fir and gestured towards the bags of gifts that already sat next to the tree.
“Oh, right. Geez, I even forgot to bring down the presents. I don’t know whether I’m coming or going these days.” Donna sighed. “Yes, why don’t you start? Maybe we should sort them into piles by name?”
Alexander looked around at the eight people who were already present. “Sounds reasonable.”
“Abby, wanna help me?” Donna stood and held a hand out to her daughter.
“Shall I lend you a hand, too?” Phineas rose from his knees and hung the cloth over the back of his chair.
Alarm bells jangled in Donna’s head, but she didn’t let her anxiety show. “Sure. Can’t do any harm.”
Followed by Abby and Phineas, she went to the upstairs wardrobe and took out the presents that she and Susan had wrapped in blue and silver striped paper. She handed Abby the watch for Julius, the perfume for Seth, and the audio books for Lewis. She took the headphones for Eric, the old school Game Boy for Ridley, Owen’s book, and the spoon lures for Rupert. That left concert tickets, massage gift cards, and dive vouchers, as well as the leather bag for Alexander for Phineas to carry.
Donna knew that giving the unbreakable to Phineas was a good idea when he missed the last step and stumbled forward, almost dropping his parcels. He recovered his balance just in time.
“Got ’em!” he called out. “Everything’s fine.”
Donna bit her lip to repress a comment, but she saw Bruce’s half curious, half worried glance into the hall.
In the living room, she knelt down next to Alexander and ordered her packages around the tree, then took the others from Phineas and Abby. She rechecked to see that everything was in place, then she helped Alexander with ordering his gifts as well.
Taking the last box out of his bag, he looked at Donna, his brow wrinkled. “Uhm…” He glanced pointedly at Susan, who was chatting and laughing with Lailani and Seymour on the sofa. “We seem to be a present short.”
Donna stared at him, glanced at Susan and then back at Alexander. She felt herself go pale.
“Is…something amiss?” Alexander asked softly.
She got up and fled into the kitchen.
Alexander was after her in no time, carefully closing the door behind him. Bruce and Owen turned from the stove in alarm.
“Donna? What’s wrong?”
“I forgot.” She exhaled. “I forgot to order it.”
Bruce threw Alexander a questioning look, but he just shrugged.
“Donna?”
She didn’t seem to hear. She rested her elbows onto the counter and hid her face in her hands. “I did it at the office. I remember typing down the email address. I wanted the package delivered to the office, but then A…a customer called, and I forgot to send the order.”
“What are we talking about?” Owen asked.
“Susan’s Christmas gift,” Alexander supplied.
Donna mumbled into her hands.
Bruce looked over at her. “Oh shit. What was it?”
“A calendar,” Donna groaned out between her fingers.
There was silence for a moment before Owen said, “Couldn’t we get a different calendar? If we hurry, w
e could make it to a store before closing.”
Shaking her head, Donna still didn’t look up. “It was a limited edition. Handcrafted. The photos are of untouched landscapes around the world. The sheets come in single printings, in an art folder made of laid paper. You won’t get something like that downtown.”
The doorbell rang, but not even that made Donna react.
Abby called from the hallway, “I’ll get it.” A moment later there was the sound of the door opening, followed by Julius’ voice.
The quartet in the kitchen fell silent. They didn’t want to draw attention to the kitchen.
When they heard the sound of footsteps going towards the living room, Bruce sighed in relief. “So, we need a last minute gift,” he summed up. “Is there something we can buy online? A music download? Netflix subscription?”
“How about a gift card?” Owen suggested.
Donna snorted and shook her head. “Susan says only strangers resort to gift cards as presents.”
“How about a trip for the two of you?” Bruce offered.
“And when could that happen? When Abby leaves for college?”
“Maybe just a weekend?” Owen mused. “Before Susan…” He didn’t finish.
Donna shrugged, her face resigned. “I guess I’m just gonna have to tell her that she will get her gift next week. If it’s still in stock.” Her shoulders sagged.
Bruce put a comforting hand on her arm. “Maybe you could say that the delivery took longer than anticipated. After all, it was holidays.”
She looked at him with a sad smile. “No. I know you mean well, but I shouldn’t lie to her. I just have to admit that I fucked up. Again.”
After another long silence, Alexander approached her, phone in hand. “Donna?” His voice was soft. “It’s this one, isn’t it?”
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