The Marine's Holiday Harbor

by Kirsten Lynn

  “Brian? And do you guys go to church?”

  I take another gulp. “Not as regular as we probably should, and I’d arranged for Brian to bring our tree since he’s getting Mom and Dad’s at the Christmas Market.”

  “When was that decision made?” He shrugs and shoves another bite of waffle in his mouth.

  “What?”

  “Maybe I wanted to get our tree together. I’d have appreciated a heads-up.”

  Unable to stay sitting, I push up and point a finger in his face. “I do not have to get your approval on anything I do in this house or with these children. I have been handling everything for over a year and you come in here with your answers for everything and outstanding waffles and…well, other things that are outstanding and think I need your permission? Negative. I arranged this with Brian in October when he mentioned doing it and we’ll wait for him.”

  “You finished?”

  My blood pressure shoots to unhealthy proportions. “I’m about done with a lot of things.”

  His gaze cuts to the side, and that’s when I groan and sink back down at the fearful faces of Michael and Ella glancing between us. When he starts speaking again, I’m impressed and want to slap him for his even, calm tone. “I was in no way suggesting you needed my go-ahead to do anything. Not knowing the plans were made long before my return, I just wanted a heads-up so I could have said I’d like to take the kids for a Christmas tree. We can do that next year. Whatever else is bugging you that caused that, I think it’s best if we discuss later.”

  “Right.” I resume eating, but the first bite goes down like a brick when I look up and the kids are still staring. “It’s fine.”

  Michael nods and takes a bite, and my stomach flips when I watch him struggle swallowing as much as I did.

  “I’m so sorry, to each of you. But really, it’s fine.”

  I get a mumbled okay from each and I stare at the few bites, left sick that I ruined Caleb’s breakfast. When Caleb finishes, he pushes off the bench and takes his dish and silverware to the sink, and the children follow like little ducklings.

  “You want more coffee?” Caleb holds up the pot.

  “No, thank you. Would you all want to help me get the decoration boxes?”

  “Sure thing.” Caleb’s voice holds no hesitancy.

  The children nod, still staying as close to Caleb as possible, waiting, I’m sure, for me to kick him out and crush their dreams. Sitting on my heels, I force a smile. “You both know people sometimes disagree, or say things they don’t mean, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well, your uncle and I are human and that means there are times we’re going to drive each other crazy. But it doesn’t mean he’ll leave, or I’ll leave. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then you both can let go of his jeans so he can move.”

  Caleb shifts a bit to loosen their grip. “Come on, guys, let go. Your aunt and I had a blow-up, it’s over. We’re both sorry we lost it in front of you.”

  Their gazes drop to where their hands are secured around the legs of his jeans. They open their hands and return their eye contact to me.

  Standing, I meet Caleb’s raised eyebrow. “All good?”

  “Good to go. Lead the way.”

  Pivoting on my heels, I start walking toward the guest bedroom upstairs with the plodding of feet behind me. It’s been six days since Caleb arrived, six days, and it feels like he’s always been a part of our little family except for this morning when he asked about the tree. Then it felt like six days and yet another person questioning my parenting. I’ll have to make it right, but it’s time we have a talk we should have had before I said yes to his plan.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Caleb

  “Okay, tell me if it’s straight.” I look through the balsam branches and smile at the furrowed brows on Brynn’s, Michael’s, and Ella’s faces.

  “Come on, Caleb, straight or not?” Brian grumps above me. I don’t know what the rush is for him, he’s standing and holding the trunk. I’m the guy under the stupid thing, tightening it into the tree stand and getting major rug burn.

  Brynn inspects the tree from stern to bow. “Looks straight to me. You guys?”

  “Yeah, to me too.” Michael nods.

  Ella steps closer and squats on her heels in front of me. “Is it pretty under there?”

  “Come under and see.”

  In a blink I’m joined by Little Bit staring up through the branches as I tighten the screws into the trunk. “It’ll be prettier when we get the lights on.”

  “Oooh.” She crawls closer with her bulldog being dragged by the ear. She scoots under my arm, bulldog and all. Her eyes close and it’s the sweetest picture of contentment I’ve ever seen when she inhales the scent of balsam fir. “Nice.”

  Dropping a kiss on the top of her head, I try to absorb some of her light. “Very nice.”

  She turns on her side and in her four-year-old stage whisper leans close. “I love you, Uncle Caleb.”

  “Love you, too, Little Bit.”

  She kisses my cheek before crawling out butt first. “It’s beautiful under there, Uncle Brian.” I shake my head at her booti-full.

  “Sure is.”

  My smile drops at the catch in the big man’s throat. Sliding out from under the tree, only Michael and Ella are still looking at the tree, Brynn and Brian are avoiding eye contact at any cost.

  “All right, Angel, you got the lights?”

  Brynn snaps to attention. “Yeah.” She grabs a coil of lights from the couch where she spread out the decorations. There’s not a knot to be found in the wires. The lights are so squared away a drill sergeant would be proud.

  “I’ll head out then.”

  She rests a hand on her brother’s arm, stopping him. “Stay. We’re having hot chocolate after.”

  Brian leans down and brushes a kiss on her head. “Tempting, but I have a better offer at Mom and Dad’s. It’s taco night.”

  “Oh.”

  He holds out his hand, and I accept. With a firm shake, he tips his head to where Brynn stands. “Sorry, Caleb. I misjudged you. I should have known you’d do right by them all.”

  “I’ve messed up enough to give you doubt. Thanks for the tree.”

  “Absolutely.” He sits on his heels. “Can this uncle get a hug?” The kids don’t hesitate, but give a joint hug to the bear. “Okay, have fun.” He turns to Brynn before stepping out. “I’ll be out to check the light later this week. If you notice anything…”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  Michael and Ella start picking up each ornament and discussing which should go on first. I wave to the tree when Brynn’s gaze snags mine. She takes one side and I take the other as we start winding the lights around the tree.

  “This is a nice tree.”

  “Sure is, but not as nice as the one you gave me in Afghanistan.”

  She peeks around the tree. “It was the best I could do.”

  “It was perfect.” I wink and enjoy her cheeks turning pink. A woman who served alongside Marines and heard and saw more than anyone should, and she still blushes when I wink at her. Damn, I love this woman. She hands me the coil of lights and I hold her hand for a second before sending them around the tree.

  “Looks good, Brynn.” I conduct one more inspection, knowing each white fairy light will be in perfect order if it’s in her house.

  She sidles next to me. “You know what was perfect about that Christmas in Afghanistan?”

  “What?”

  She twines her fingers with mine. “We were together. Thank you for coming home.”

  “Thank you for always being home for me.”

  Michael steps next to us with an ornament. “Can we start decorating?”

  I squeeze her hand. “Yep, get busy, buddy.”

  Michael hangs an ornament with his baby picture in it and Baby’s First Christmas across the top of the frame. He lifts his face. “Mom always hu
ng that one first. Then Ella’s. She said those were her best Christmases, when we made her a mom.” As he says it, Ella hooks hers a few branches down.

  “Outstanding. Liz knew how to do Christmas.”

  “She did.” His smile is pure pride.

  Brynn releases my hand and I can feel she’s trying to hold it together as much as I am, but I keep my focus on Michael. “Anything else she did you’d like to do?”

  “She let Ella, or me, put the angel on top. We switched off years. Dad would lift us up to reach.”

  “Whose year is it?” Brynn asks as she hooks a little mouse ornament.

  “Ella’s. Mine was last year.”

  “We didn’t have a tree last year. So, if you want…”

  He shakes his head. “No, she can do it.”

  I pat his back. “You’re a good man, Michael Quinlin.”

  “I want to be.”

  I don’t respond, not sure that I could. I join in hanging ornaments. After a few, I switch jobs, and wait for Ella to hang hers. I then rehang hers since she’s determined to cluster a hundred in one spot. The decorations belonging to Liz and Mark are clear as they are all figurines of First Home, First Christmas Together, and those belonging to the children such as Disney princesses and Transformers.

  Michael passes me with two ornaments which halts my reaching for the last decoration Ella put on the tree. One is a Marine dress cover and the other a Navy dress cover. The only Navy uniform she wore were dress whites, the rest were Marine regs. I love her in dress whites, and she knows it. “What are those, Michael?”

  “Those are mine,” Brynn states, and then turns to hang a couple red bulbs.

  I examine the ornaments. On the Marine cover there’s writing: Her Marine. On the Navy is His Doc. “Where’d you find these?”

  “Had them made at one of those custom ornament shops.”

  “Did you want to hang those, Uncle Caleb?”

  “No, that’s fine, bud. I was just looking.” Tipping my head to the side, I continue to stare until I force Brynn’s gaze to mine. “When did you have those made?”

  “Before that last deployment. I thought…” Her shoulders lift, then drop.

  “Yeah,” I mumble. She thought we were getting ready to get out, take the next step.

  The song on her phone changes to Up on the House Top and she and the children start singing along. “Caleb, you know the song, too…no shirking and no lip syncing.”

  Joining in, the air becomes lighter and I force past failures down. Laughing, I watch Ella shake her tiny toosh to the song as she and Michael belt it out with all the delight of children thinking of Santa. The picture of the two of them on Santa’s lap setting on the mantle draws my attention. Their smiles appear real and their joy in this moment is tangible. Brynn’s eyes sparkle a pure gold and her laughter is brighter than any Christmas star.

  Inhaling the balsam like Ella did under the tree, I close my eyes and let the moment seep into my bloodstream and the marrow of my bones. But it isn’t the tree, or the music, or the lights infusing my soul and filling the dark spaces. It’s the three people around me. It’s a tiny voice telling me she loves me, and a much huskier one telling me the same, and Michael working beside me this morning and squeezing my hand for a second before acting like he hadn’t. There is no paper, or box, or even season that could contain the love each gifted me with.

  I open my eyes when Brynn slides her arms around my waist and hugs me close, and each of the children hug one of my legs. No words are said. No words are needed. I don’t know what song is playing; the music in my ears is much sweeter. As I hold tight to my anchors, the joy of the moment builds and I start laughing. Brynn and the children break from the hug and join in until we’re all standing there laughing like we’ve lost our minds.

  “Let’s have chocolate!” Ella yells.

  Laughing, I swing her up on my shoulders. “You’ve got one more job.”

  Brynn hands her the angel and Ella gasps. “Oh, she’s pretty.”

  Sharing a smile with Brynn, I position the little girl to put the angel on the top. Michael stands at my side. “You’ve got this, Ella. Just don’t mess it up.”

  I chuckle at the typical brotherly encouragement. Ella places the angel on the limbs and spends a few moments primping her dress. Swinging the little girl down, I smile through her giggles. She lifts her arms. “That was fun! Again!”

  “Let’s get chocolate.”

  “Carry me, please.” She stands with her arms up.

  Lifting her back into my arms, I nod to the bulldog. “You want Chesty?”

  Shaking her head, she curls her tiny fingers around my shirt. “I got you.”

  Yeah, you’ve all got me right by the heartstrings. I pray as I follow Brynn and Michael to the kitchen that she’s ready to make this permanent, because there’s no force strong enough to keep me from this family. My family.

  Setting Ella in her seat, I grab the mugs for hot chocolate when my phone buzzes. After grabbing it out of my back pocket, I frown at the name on the screen then swipe to answer. “Hey Lisa.”

  Brynn narrows her gaze, but starts fixing the hot chocolate.

  “Hi, Caleb, sorry to call you on a Sunday, but the owners of that bungalow in La Jolla are willing to meet you halfway on your bid.”

  “Oh shit…” I cringe at Ella’s side-eye. “Sorry, Lisa, I meant to call you. I’m no longer planning to settle in La Jolla.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.” I know Brynn can hear Lisa, who’s a bit loud, plus she’s putting a lot more effort into fixing the children’s chocolate and loading up the marshmallows than necessary.

  “Yeah, sorry. But thanks for all your help.”

  “Anytime. You’ve got my number.”

  “Absolutely. Thanks again.”

  I swipe the off button and relax when Brynn turns to me and lifts a mug. “You want marshmallows?”

  “I’ll just take it straight today.”

  She sets the mug down with hers, almost overflowing with marshmallows. Michael and Ella are already sporting chocolate mustaches.

  “For tonight only we can have dessert first. I got these yesterday.” Brynn slides a plate of pastries on the table.

  Ella eagerly snags a chocolate donut. I push the plate to Michael and I can see the war across his face. Once when Brynn and I were home on leave, we got dressed down for ice cream before supper. I shake my head; kind of like Brynn and I brought the hammer down on Brian for cake before lunch. I can’t imagine the rules changed. What does a boy trying not to disappoint anyone do?

  “Come on, bud. I’m having one.” Nodding, he grabs an apple fritter. I grab the other fritter. “Good choice.”

  When Brynn finally settles next to me, she takes the Boston crème. “You were looking at La Jolla?”

  There’s no anger or sarcasm in her tone, and her eyes are still bright and filled with joy. “For a bit when I first started to transition. We’d talked about it before.”

  Before we were guardians to our niece and nephew and the plan was a house by the beach with nights of skinny-dipping and days of fucking in every room. When I thought there was nothing on this planet that could bring me back to Maine and close to my father.

  “Is it still something you want?”

  I can’t read the question, if she’s testing me or thinking it might be a possibility. “I wouldn’t say never, but we’re happy here now.” I decide to turn things around. “You?”

  “If you ask me in January I’ll be ready to pack, but I’m happy snug in our house here on Curtis Island.”

  “Me, too.” Michael says around a bite of donut.

  “Me, too.” Ella agrees.

  I wave a hand to the children. “Then it’s unanimous.”

  Brynn leans closer. “So, who’s Lisa?” She nudges my arm and winks.

  “Hanson’s cousin. He told me she was a good Realtor, and he’s right.”

  Her eyes widen. “Hanson’s cousin?”

  Hanson lives the r
eputation Marines have for banging. I hold up a hand. “Don’t even. She was my Realtor, that’s it.”

  She frowns and licks my palm, which causes the kids to laugh and me to wish she was licking something else. “Don’t be an a-hole, I know. I just can’t imagine Hanson having family.”

  There’s giggling from Michael and Ella even though they have no idea who Hanson is. Bending, I take a huge bite of her donut.

  “Hey, Marine.” She pushes me even as she laughs. “What was that for?”

  I hike a brow, saying everything as I slowly chew the donut and try not to puke since I can’t stand Boston crème.

  Knowing that, she smiles and takes an equally big bite. “Mmmm-mmm.”

  “You guys are weird.” Michael’s face is the image of Mark when disgusted, from wrinkled nose to curled upper lip.

  We both struggle to swallow and not yark the donut as we laugh…made even harder when Ella wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. “Gross.”

  After another day of holiday shenanigans, I sink onto the sofa and scrub my hand over my face. “No more waffle, donut, hot chocolate days,” Brynn decrees as she flops next to me.

  “Agreed. Sugar monsters replaced our kids.”

  “Holy shit, you’re not kidding. And Ella’s end-of-day meltdown sealed the deal.”

  “Lessons learned.”

  Sharing a smile, we fist bump, but she opens her hand and I lace my fingers through hers. Her smile fades. “Sorry about this morning, I just…” She shrugs. “…lost it.”

  “Something tells me you deserved to lose it. And I could have phrased my question in a less accusatory manner. You want to share?”

  “Until you imposed the no-questioning-our-parenting rule, everything I did was questioned. Guess I flipped out on you instead of them. And…”

  “And?”

  “Sometimes I think about our plans for sunshine and beaches and making love wherever, whenever we want, and naked weekends. And I wondered if you did, too.”

  “And now?”

  “I know you do. I saw it on your face when you turned down the house in La Jolla, but I also saw how much you meant this is your home, and I heard your heart when you told Ella you loved her under the tree.”