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I bend down to reach her and she wraps her arm around me, while still holding onto my precious princess of a niece. “Merry Christmas. I’m glad your home.”
“Me, too. You can never tell with that manager of mine.”
Mom rolls her eyes, but even she knows Elle can be a workaholic. Maybe now that she has the twins, she’ll slow down. Doubtful, but hopeful. Although, I like to keep busy, and Elle definitely keeps me busy.
Dad comes up to us next, greeting us all before turning his googly eyes onto the trio of sleeping babies that are now in the arms of their grandmothers.
“Wanna help me with the gifts?” Noah asks as if I’d say no. We go outside to the back of the SUV, and each grab the very large bags Peyton packed everything into. “I have no idea what she bought. Everyone in that house has everything.”
“You’re telling me. I forgot it was Christmas until I was flying here and then I sat on the plane, scrolling through TikTok looking for ideas. I do think the gift I got all the women is going to be epic.”
“I’m sure they’ll cry,” Noah says with a sigh. “My mom started crying this morning on the phone because one of the boys cooed in the background. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it was Stevie Nicks chomping on a toy.”
I hold back my laughter as we reach the house. Soft holiday music wafts from the in-house speaker system. Liam’s walking around wearing a Santa hat and handing out eggnog.
“Merry Christmas, Quinn.” He hands me a glass.
“Thanks, you too. Is it spiked?” I answer my own question as soon as I take a sip. “Shit, this’ll put hair on my chest.” Liam laughs and hands Noah one, who tells his dad no thanks.
Betty Paige comes over and helps me spread the presents out. She seems quiet and honestly a bit withdrawn. After a few moments of no eye contact, which is extremely odd, I elbow her.
“You okay?”
She shrugs.
“Wanna talk about it?”
She looks around the room, and I do the same. There’s no doubt we’re seeing the same thing, our parents obsessed with the babies. Even Ollie is more interested in them. He didn’t even try to tackle me when I walked in.
“Come on, let’s go down to the studio and bang on the drums.”
Betty Paige and I escape to the basement studio, where there’s an entire set of instruments, including a drum kit, setup. Honestly, I’m surprised with the new studio in the center of town, Liam keeps this one stocked.
I remember spending a lot of time down here when I was a kid, watching 4225 West record album after album, prepare for their numerous tours, and learning how to play the guitar, keyboard, and drums. The instruments were never off limits.
“What’s your pleasure?”
Paige shrugs. “I don’t really play anything.”
“What? How can that be?”
She sits on the bench by the keyboard and presses the keys. “I don’t know. Dad never pushed it or anything and I never asked to learn.”
“It’s never too late,” I tell her as I tap the snare. “I didn’t think I wanted to be a musician, but here I am.”
“No, what did you want to do?”
“Honestly, be a surfer.”
“Eden has that one in the bag. Me, I’ve got nothing.”
“That’s not true, what do you like to do?”
Paige shrugs. “I’m lost and with the babies here, I feel . . .”
“Invisible?”
She looks up at me. “Yes. How did you know?”