by Sheila Kell
After the clearing of a throat, he pulled back slowly and watched the darkening of her eyes. He wondered if they could skip the picture taking and reception altogether.
They were told to turn and face the crowd with their hands still entwined.
“I present Mr. and Mrs. Bradley Hamilton,” the minister said to the crowd.
Brad’s heart swelled. So he might have been the last man standing. But Madison Maxwell was well worth his fall.
SINCE IT WAS cold in the early evening, Brad grasped Madison’s hand as they strolled up the walkway to his father’s home and hurried her steps. He’d forgotten his gloves, and his hands were already freezing. December in Silver Spring was just downright frigid.
“Is this a tradition for your family?” Madison asked.
This was the first time since they were boys that all of his brothers and sister had been together with their father on Christmas Eve. He wasn’t sure if they’d make this a tradition or not, but he liked the idea. Even Matt and Trent flew in with their families and newborn babies.
That was why he figured his father had invited everyone—all the little ones who called him Poppy and who he spoiled. He had ten grandchildren, none from him and Madison—yet.
They’d just had confirmation right before the holiday that she was two months pregnant. She wasn’t ready to tell everyone, saying much could happen that early in pregnancy. They would wait until she was three months along before they spilled the beans. Of course, they might notice she wouldn’t be drinking anything alcoholic tonight. His sister and sisters-in-law were sharp. Not much got by them. But he also knew they wouldn’t say anything if Madison didn’t. They understood discretion.
Opening the front door decorated with greenery outlining it and a wreath on each door, the warmth hit him in the face, and the smell of Christmas—pine, cedar, cinnamon, and baked apples—was in the air.
He couldn’t wait to dive into the feast his father’s cook had prepared. The woman was a genius in the kitchen. When they were little, she’d always had some sort of cookies made for them when they got home from school.
Brad and Madison removed their coats and handed them to a man Brad had never met, who took them away. His father must’ve hired help for the big family gathering. Including the children, there were now twenty-six of them. How was his dad going to feed them all? The table, while large, wouldn’t hold that many. Of course, he told himself, his father knew that and surely made some accommodation for it.
Walking into the full family room, he quickly scanned the area, counting brothers, and realized they were the last ones to arrive. He couldn’t help it if he’d had to have his woman while she’d tried to dress for tonight.
The women sat in the chairs and on the couches while the men stood, keeping a post near their family while the kids played in the middle of the room where a coffee table had been removed for space.
Madison leaned to him and put her hand up as if to cover the words. “I think we’re late.”
He clasped her and squeezed tight. “We’re right on time,” he responded.
“I have sitters for the newborns so parents can eat without worry,” his dad was saying. Boy did he think of everything. “And Jason has volunteered to sit at the kids table so you won’t have to worry.”
Jason beamed with pride at his selfless act. He might have bitten off more than he could chew with the six young ones.
“Now Brad and Madison are here, we can go in to eat. Take your children and get them settled.”
“Daddy, how come I can’t eat with you?” Reagan asked Jesse. “I’m a big girl now. I know how to behave.”
Her heartfelt plea got a few “aahs” from the group. But Jesse didn’t fall for it. “See, that’s why I need you to sit at the kids table. Jason can’t watch all the little ones by himself. He’ll need your help.”
She looked at Jason, who was smiling at his sister. “You bet I do.” He held out his hand, and she took it and followed him out of the room.
AJ and Megan took Alex, who bounced in his seat. Jake and Emily carried Amber and Leslie, settling the latter in a high chair that was also lower than normal. Devon and Rylee got Mitch settled. Then Trent brought Ashley into the room while Kelly reluctantly handed over Roger to a sitter. Matt and Caitlyn gladly released their twins—Travis and Scott—for what he suspected was much-needed peace.
After it was just adults—who kept glancing toward the kids table and upstairs where the infants went—the sixteen adults sat at the table built for twenty and set with fine, white pieces of china. A miniature Christmas tree, decorated with small glass bulbs sat as the centerpiece. Its low height didn’t prevent anyone from seeing another. Threaded down the center of the table to the end was fresh greenery with bulbs decorating it here and there. So fresh you could still smell it as if it had just been cut. And there was a magic marker at each place. Odd.
“I want to thank you all for coming tonight. I know being away from home at Christmas with kids is a challenge,” Blake said to Trent and Matt, who nodded. “I hope we’ve got you settled for tomorrow so the kids don’t miss a thing.” Both of his brothers from out of town were staying with their father so the kids could have a stable Christmas in the morning, even though not all were old enough to notice it.
“The last time we were all together,” he said, “you saved Elizabeth’s life. I can’t thank you enough for that. My goal tonight was that we could all be together without a crisis worse than diaper rash.”
Chuckles erupted from the table, but Matt and Caitlyn only grimaced. That must be a problem for them with the twins.
Twins. He couldn’t even imagine. He hoped he and Madison only had one, because from what he’d learned from his brothers, one was enough to drive you crazy. How did Matt handle two?
“Since the kids will get older and Christmas at home will be a big deal, I’d like to start this tradition, but Elizabeth and I would like to start it on Thanksgiving of each year. We didn’t this year because Caitlyn and Kelly were too close to delivering. And we didn’t want another year to go by without all of us getting together. So I propose we do this every year on Thanksgiving. What do you think?”
That sounded good to Brad. Less food they’d have to cook. Less work on Madison as she tended to shoo him out of the kitchen when she got into a cooking mood.
Everyone nodded. Why wouldn’t they? A reason to get together and have some of the best food around? It was a done deal.
“That’s one tradition we’ll have. Another tradition that we’ll do is about being thankful. This tablecloth will be used for our holiday dinners year after year. You have a magic marker in front of you. What I propose is that you write something you are thankful for this year on the tablecloth and then share it with us. Every year you add to it and look back at all that you’ve been blessed with. What do you say?”
There was some apprehension, but everyone nodded. It wasn’t a tough request, just odd. But he liked the idea if they continued to use this tablecloth. Each year that passed, he could see what he’d been thankful for. He figured it’d be Madison every year. Then his kids.
People began moving their plates forward to bare the cloth in front of them, and the women began to write. Glancing around, Brad noticed his brothers were looking at what their women were writing, but one by one they began to write themselves.
Brad’s was simple and took no time to write. He couldn’t see it changing over the years.
Once everyone put their markers down, his dad asked Jesse as the eldest to begin.
Jesse cleared his throat and didn’t look down at his writing. “I’m thankful for my wife, children, family, and friends.”
Just as simple as Brad’s, yet he hadn’t added children.
As they went around the room, laughter broke out. Everyone had written something similar to—if not exactly the same—as Jesse’s thankful statement.
Midway through the group, his dad asked, “Did anyone write anything different?”
; No one commented or raised their hand.
“Well, it appears I have raised fine, upstanding men and you have chosen the right women to complement you. My thankfulness is very similar but includes grandchildren.”
Dinner was served with the traditional turkey and ham with stuffing, mashed potatoes, green beans, cranberry sauce, and rolls. Brad ate until he couldn’t move. His dad’s chef had outdone himself. When pumpkin and apple pie and a plate of chocolate chip cookies made their way to the table, he wondered if anyone would notice him loosening the button on his pants.
Most of the group left the dessert for later. Like him, they’d overdone it on the main course. When talking died down, and the last bite had been taken, Blake ushered everyone into the family room where Jason and Reagan were keeping the smaller kids busy.
The young ones who understood Christmas were excited, as they knew they got to open a present from their grandfather tonight before Santa Claus came to visit them.
The man who’d taken their coats walked into the room, holding a box and gingerly setting it under the tree. Brad smiled.
He and Madison were exchanging gifts tomorrow, but he couldn’t wait on one and had convinced his dad to let him exchange it there. They hadn’t wanted others to feel they should’ve done the same. After agreement from the family, he selected her gift. He prayed she liked it. She’d said she wanted one. Hopefully she hadn’t meant only the one she chose.
He left her in an armchair and picked up the box, then walked back to her. “Maddie,” he said to get her attention, realizing it also got most everyone else’s attention since he stood there with a present. “I have a present for you that couldn’t wait until tomorrow.”
“Brad, I didn’t bring you anything.” They’d agreed to exchange gifts at home, but this one couldn’t wait.
“It’s not like that. This just couldn’t wait another day.” He handed her the box, and she looked at it, narrowing her eyes when she saw the little holes poked into the decorated box. “Brad?” she questioned before lifting the lid off.
Her face lit up, and she looked at him with watery eyes. She stood to kiss him but was hampered by the box between them. Instead, she looked down at the box and set it and the lid on the chair. Reaching in, she pulled out a calico kitten of about six weeks old. That age was the animal shelter’s best guess.
“You said you wanted one, and you were the only Hamilton wife without a pet….”
She laughed as she cuddled a now awake kitten to her chest. “This is perfect.” Leaning toward him, she told him she loved him before giving him a kiss.
The kids had all circled around her, their own presents to be opened forgotten. “What’s its name?” Reagan asked.
“It’s a girl,” Brad told her.
“I think… Princess.” She cast Brad a sly smile. “What do you think?” she asked the kids.
“Princess is a good name,” Amber stated.
“Can we pet her?” was repeated by the little ones.
“I’ll tell you what,” Brad said, “after you open your presents, you can pet her. Right now though, your Poppy has something special for each of you.”
The kids raced to the tree where his dad was waiting to hand out presents.
“Are you sure it’s okay I picked her out without you?” Worry laced his words.
“I’m positive. This way is better.” She walked into his open arms, and he held her.
Looking around the room, he took in the dynamics of the couples—all touching in some way—and the kids. He was damn lucky to have the family and wife that he had. They adopted a cat and soon would have a child of their own. Yeah, life didn’t get any better than being a Hamilton.
You can make a difference.
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Sheila Kell writes smokin’ hot romance and intrigue. She secretly laughs when her mother, in that stern voice, calls it “nasty.” As a self-proclaimed caffeine addict nestled in north Mississippi with three cats, she wears her pajamas most of the day and writes about the romantic men who leave women’s hearts pounding with a happily ever after built on a memorable, adrenaline-pumping story. When she isn’t writing, she can be found visiting her family, dreaming of an editor who agrees her work is perfect, or watching cartoons.
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