A Wright Christmas

by Linde, K. A.

  “Yeah, Blaire plays on Isaac and Annie’s soccer team, the Tacos.”

  “The Tacos?” I asked with an eye roll.

  “Hey the Tacos are awesome!” Blair said. She leaned forward. “Anyway, Isaac started the team. He’s so much better than the rest of us, but I try to keep up. Julian and Hollin aren’t bad, but they’re not as good as me.” She got a wicked glint in her eye. “You could come with me on Sunday. It’s indoor.”

  “Oh no, I couldn’t do that,” I said immediately. “I mean, it would be weird, right?”

  “What’s weird is you trying to deny that you’re still into Isaac,” Piper said as she pulled up to our parents’ house.

  I ignored her…even if she was right. Especially because she was right.

  Instead, I chose to marvel in the splendor of the Christmas display. Every year, my dad tried to outdo himself on Christmas lights. Already this year, he had every inch of the house plastered in lights, and a few of those inflatable Christmas displays were up and operational. He’d recently gotten into adding music and synchronizing the lights display with his favorite songs, which ranged from “All I Want for Christmas Is You” to “Despacito.” The videos they sent always made me laugh.

  Piper parked out front, and we hopped out of her Jeep. She jogged around the hood to meet Blaire and me as we walked up to the front door. My brother’s SUV was parked in the driveway. He opened the door before we could even knock and barreled into me, picking me up and twirling me around.

  “Peyton’s home!” Peter called inside.

  “Pipe—Pey—Peter!” our mother, Hannah, called, always messing our names up. “Whatever your name is, put your sister down right this instant and go help your father with the spaghetti.”

  Peter set me down with a wink. He and Piper were so similar sometimes, it was terrifying. They were twins, though Piper would proudly proclaim that she had been born three minutes earlier. And they even looked alike. Same straight dark brown hair and chocolate eyes with a proud, defined jawline and golden skin. Only Peter was a good head taller than both of us.

  “You know, Mom, you wouldn’t mess up our names so much if you hadn’t named us so similarly.”

  “Bah,” she said, waving a dishrag at me as I stepped inside. “I still would. As long as I get the person right on the last one, that’s all that counts.”

  I let her pull me into a hug and kiss my cheek. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too. But at least we’ll have you for a month this year. That’s more than I can ask for.”

  “It’s good to be home. Where’s Abuelita?” I asked about my grandmother.

  “She couldn’t make it tonight, but she’s anxious to see you. You should swing by her place when you have time.”

  “I will. If I have time.”

  Peter’s boyfriend, Jeremy, was already seated at the dinner table with a copy of The Great Gatsby in his lap. He was an English PhD at Tech and could always be found with a book close at hand.

  “Jeremy,” I said, and when he didn’t look up, I repeated his name.

  He blinked rapidly and glanced up, completely lost in his book. “Did you say something?”

  “I was just trying to say hello.”

  He smiled and tucked Gatsby under his arm. He stood to his considerable height, six and a half feet tall and as lanky as they came. Fair as could be—as if, like a vampire, he never saw the sun—with blond hair that always fell forward into his baby-blues and a disarming crook of his lips. Like he wasn’t quite used to looking people in the eye. He was the opposite of my brother, but they just seemed to fit.

  He shook my hand. My family were huggers. I wondered how he survived it.

  “Good to see you again.”

  “You too,” he said, then promptly sat back down and continued reading.

  “Mom, do you know who Peyton ran into today at LBC?” Piper asked from the kitchen.

  I groaned and hurried toward the sound of Piper’s annoying voice.

  “Isaac Donoghue,” Piper announced before I could stop her.

  Everyone turned to look at me when I stepped into the already-crowded kitchen.

  “What?” I grumbled and snatched a fresh-baked roll off of the plate that my dad had just taken out of the oven. It was too hot though, and I tossed it back and forth between my hands until it cooled down.

  “Isaac is such a nice young man,” my mom said, nudging her husband. “Don’t you think so, Matthew?”

  My dad caught my gaze. His eyes crinkled when he looked at me. He set the plate down and came over to pull me into a hug. “I’m glad you’re home, pumpkin.”

  “Me too, Dad.”

  “Well, anyway,” my mom continued, “I think he has such a cute little kid. Did you meet Aly?”

  “I did,” I confirmed. “She was adorable. I can’t believe she’s going to be a mouse in The Nutcracker at only five years old.”

  “Why? You were,” my mom reminded me.

  “Yeah…but…”

  Piper laughed. “Not everyone is a prodigy?”

  “That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

  Peter and Piper exchanged the look. I threw my roll at Piper’s face. She gasped when it hit her, and then she bent down to pick it back up and hurl it at me. But my father wrenched it out of her hand.

  “I spent hours on those. Let’s not throw them at each other,” my dad said.

  “Well, now, it feels like Peyton’s home,” my mom said with a sigh. “You three are incorrigible.”

  “The spaghetti’s ready. Everyone grab something and take it out to the table,” my dad said, hustling us out of his kitchen.

  Though my mom loved to make traditional Mexican food that she had learned from her mom and grandmother, she was a terrible cook otherwise. She claimed it had something to do with her great-grandmother’s recipes having magic in them. But otherwise, Dad cooked. When he had still been working his way up at Sinclair Cellars, we’d eaten a lot of takeout, but every Sunday, we would sit down for a real home-cooked meal. Just the smell of my dad’s secret spaghetti sauce brought back so many childhood memories.

  I picked up the basket of rolls and followed my mom and siblings into the dining room. I set them down next to Piper’s plate since I knew she would eat more than the rest of us combined, and with my father’s metabolism, she’d not gain a pound. A feat I still didn’t understand.

  Once everyone served themselves, my mom said grace, and then we dug in. But still, Piper wouldn’t let the thing with Isaac go.

  “So, are you going to go out with him?”

  I stuffed my mouth full of spaghetti and shot her a death glare.

  My mom just laughed. “What about you and Bradley?”

  Piper shrugged and picked at her salad. “We’re just friends.”

  “That’s what they call it nowadays,” Peter said from the other end of the table.

  “Hey!” Piper snarled.

  Peter laughed. “What? You can give it but not take it?”

  “I think Isaac is a good man,” my dad said thoughtfully. He looked at Piper with a raised eyebrow. “Better than this Bradley fellow.”

  Piper sighed heavily. “I know, Dad. This is why we’re friends.”

  Blaire snorted. Piper elbowed her in the arm.

  My dad met my gaze. “I know you’re only here for a month, pumpkin, but a lot can happen in a month.”

  I gulped and nodded. My dad always had a way of speaking to me thoughtfully. Even if he said the exact same things that everyone else said that made me cringe. “I know.”

  “Blaire invited her to the Tacos soccer game this Sunday,” Piper volunteered. “Isaac’s team.”

  “You should go,” my mom said.

  “No, I still think it would be weird,” I said quickly. “We don’t know each other anymore. We haven’t even seen each other in sixteen years.”

  My dad glared at Piper to keep her quiet, and the conversation veered toward other topics—Piper’s new idea for the winery; Blaire
’s new job, teaching Pure Barre; and Peter’s latest comic book find. I was glad to be left out of the conversation.

  There was no way that I was going to go to Isaac’s soccer game. I’d mentioned that we should meet up, and he’d said I could text him, but that was before I knew he had a daughter. That changed things. I didn’t want to get into his life for a month, only to leave again. Not when he had someone else’s feelings to think about.

  I wasn’t going to text him. And I wasn’t going to go to his soccer game. That was settled.

  5

  Isaac

  “Where even is your head at tonight?” Annie asked from the passenger seat. “We’re going to be late.”

  “We’re not going to be late,” I told her.

  We probably were. Since having Aly, I was late almost everywhere. I used to be the kind of guy who thought fifteen minutes early was on time and on time was late, but, man, kids changed all of that.

  “I mean, you usually run behind now but not for soccer.”

  I shrugged and took the next turn north toward the indoor complex. “I guess my mind is on other things.”

  “Like?” Annie prodded as she finished French-braiding her dark red hair.

  “Peyton.”

  Annie’s eyebrows rose. She tied off the completed right side before turning to face me. “Peyton Medina?”

  “What other Peyton do we know?”

  “I don’t know. It’s been a few years since I’ve heard that name out of your mouth.”

  “Well, she’s back in town.”

  “What?”

  “Just for the month. She’s performing as the Sugar Plum Fairy in The Nutcracker.”

  “Did you see her? When did this happen?” Annie asked excitedly.

  “I guess Thursday. I ran into her when I was picking up Aly.”

  “And you’re just now telling me this?”

  I rolled my eyes at my sister. “I haven’t even seen you since Thursday.”

  “Yeah, I’m in med school. You never see me, but pick up a phone or something, dude. What are you going to do?”

  That I didn’t know. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to ask her out. I wanted to take her out to dinner and hear all the amazing things that she had accomplished since she left Lubbock and me behind all those years ago. I wanted things to be what they had been.

  But…I knew that was impossible. Nothing could go back to the way they had been. She’d left, and I’d told her to. I couldn’t stand between her and her dream. Not when I’d had such high hopes for my soccer career. I wasn’t the same person either. First and foremost, I had Aly to think about. As much as the kid adored anyone who danced and would surely idolize Peyton, would it be fair of me to introduce her to Peyton when I wanted more? Would it be fair to any of us?

  Lots of questions and no answers.

  I pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine in front of the indoor complex. Annie and I hopped out and grabbed our soccer bags out of the bed of the truck.

  “You need to get her out of your head, or you’re not going to be able to play tonight,” Annie told me.

  “I know. I mean, I told her she could call or text me. She said that we should meet up. But I haven’t heard from her in four days. That probably means I’ll never hear from her, right?”

  Annie slung her bag over her shoulder. “You haven’t seen her in sixteen years. Seems unlikely you’ll see her again if she didn’t text you the next day.”

  I nodded and pulled open the door to the soccer facility, letting Annie step inside first. “You’re right. I’ll just put it out of my mind. No reason to dwell on the past.”

  “Or not,” Annie muttered, frozen in place.

  “Or not?” I asked in confusion.

  Then, I stepped inside.

  Peyton Medina was seated in the bleachers.

  “Oh,” I whispered.

  God, I’d forgotten how beautiful she was. Thursday, when I’d seen her still in tights and a leotard, it was like nothing had changed. Sixteen years had just disappeared. But now, she sat on the bleachers in street clothes, next to Annie’s friends, Jennifer Gibson and Sutton Wright, and I was a goner. Simple jeans and a white sweater with her wild, curly hair out of its immaculate bun shouldn’t have done me in, but it did. And I wanted nothing more to go over there and kiss her.

  “Earth to Isaac,” Annie hissed. “She’s waving.”

  I raised my hand and waved back.

  “Go say something to her, you idiot.”

  The first buzzer rang then, announcing five minutes until game time.

  “There’s no time. We have to go warm up.”

  Annie rolled her eyes. “You go. I’m going to say hi.”

  True to her word, Annie raced off to the bleachers, waving at her friends and then crushing Peyton in a hug. I wanted to go over there, but five-minutes already wasn’t enough time to warm up. Not if I wanted to win this match…and I did. My competitive streak was unparalleled.

  I dropped my bag at the bench and put on my shin guards before jogging up and down the sidelines. I interspersed high knees and some side shuffles before returning to the bench. Annie was stretching next to Blaire, who grinned broadly at me.

  “You’re welcome,” she said.

  “What’s she talking about?” Hollin Abbey asked.

  I’d played soccer with him on an intramural team at Tech. He was a solidly built white guy. With how big he was, I was sometimes surprised that he was the fastest guy on our team.

  “Nothing.”

  “Doesn’t seem like nothing, does it, Julian?” Hollin asked.

  Julian glanced up with an amused look on his face. It had come as a shock to me to learn that Julian Wright, cousin to Jensen, was also Hollin’s cousin on his mom’s side. Small towns were weird. But at least it meant we got another good player. Julian was built more like me with the same fair skin and clever footwork. He’d kicked ass on a rec team in Vancouver.

  “Blaire does seem awfully smug,” Julian offered with his award-winning Wright smile.

  “I am smug,” Blaire said. “I got his high school sweetheart to come watch him play.”

  “Ohhh,” Hollin said. “Is she hot?”

  “Can we not?” I asked.

  Annie giggled from where she was warming up. “You had this one coming, bro.”

  Thankfully, the ref blew the whistle for game time. I shook hands with the rest of our team who had just finished warming up and gave a quick pep talk before sending everyone out to their positions. Blaire played forward because girls’ goals counted as two. It was half the reason we were destroying the rest of the teams this season. Blaire ran circles around the competition. Julian and I played midfield, and Hollin, with his bulk, defended alongside Annie and Cézanne—a tall, quick-footed player with her signature box braids, who Annie knew from medical school. Our goalie, Gerome, was even taller than Hollin with locs for days and miracle hands. He’d only missed a handful of balls all season. I was confident that we could take the title this season.

  It was a pretty fair spread, and I wasn’t confident in the win until Blaire landed the last goal. Hollin was a bit of a ball hog and liked to score even though he was supposed to be defending. He and Cézanne got into it a lot. Julian was sometimes too cautious, but overall, we were getting the hang of playing as a team.

  We shook hands with our opponents after we beat them and then headed back to the bench.

  “Great game, everyone,” I told them. “Keep this up, and we’re going to win the season.”

  “Pizza?” Hollin asked the rest of the team.

  I groaned. I couldn’t imagine eating a slice of pizza right now. “I’ll pass. I need to get home to Aly.”

  The rest of the team agreed and arranged to meet at Capital Pizza since they were one of the few late-night pizza joints still open.

  Annie nudged me. “I’m going to get pizza with Jennifer, Sutton, and Blaire.” She winked. “Don’t wait up.”

  I shook my head at her.
“Annie…”

  She held her hands up. “Hey, I’m just saying. Mom and Dad have Aly. She’s probably already in bed. Doesn’t hurt a damn thing for you to have a little more time to yourself for once.”

  She had a point. And she knew it. Because she just grinned wider and ran after Blaire. “Hey, wait up!”

  After throwing my shin guards back into my bag and taking a long drink of water, I shouldered my bag and headed over to where Peyton sat.

  “Hey, good game,” she said at my approach.

  “Thanks. I was a little nervous there at the end.”

  She laughed, and something skipped in my heart. I had missed that sound. “I know how competitive you are. There was no way you were going to let them beat you.”

  I shrugged and dropped my bag. “Well, it doesn’t always work out.”

  “No, I suppose not,” she agreed. “Jenny and Sutton said something about going to get pizza.” She tugged on a curly lock and let it bounce back up. “It feels a little weird, even saying those words. I haven’t seen some of these people in years, and they act like I just belong among them.”

  “You do,” I said automatically.

  She shrugged. “No, I don’t. But it’s nice of them to include me. Were you going to get pizza?”

  “No, I can’t imagine eating a slice after all that. Not to mention, the beer consumption Hollin manages. Plus, I have to get home to Aly.”

  Her face fell slightly at the words, and I kicked myself for saying them. Annie had just told me to live a little. That Aly was fine for the night. Maybe I was the one who didn’t belong in this world. I certainly wasn’t used to having a night to myself.

  “But not quite yet,” I added quickly. “If you want to maybe get some ice cream?”

  She hopped down off of the bleacher, a tentative smile coming to her face. “My kryptonite, Donoghue.”

  I grinned. Didn’t I know it? “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes.”

  6

  Peyton

  Since Blaire was heading out for pizza, Isaac drove us to Braum’s. He parked the truck out front in the already- full parking lot.