Page 31

Christmas morning

Lizzie—

Darko is not wrong. The pitter patter of tiny feet running down the hallways carries through the door at dawn. We climb from bed and make our way out the bedroom door to see bleary-eyed parents being dragged by their kids. The sun hasn’t even crested the ridge, leaving several stars sparkling in the dark morning sky.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Rock calls as he troops to the front of the mob. “Parents follow me. All you kids wait here.”

He’s met by little groans of disappointment, but they don’t seem to faze him.

The parents shuffle past him, and we follow behind.

“You two are up early.” Rock’s lips twitch at the corner. “I guess my boy Darko here needs to work a little harder.”

My cheeks flush. “We wanted to see what Santa brought.”

“Stop making her blush.” Darko bumps his arm.

“My bad.” He holds his palms up in mock surrender, but he doesn’t look apologetic at all.

I roll my eyes and continue past.

“All right, kiddos.” Rock begins unrolling the roll of toilet paper and taping it across the doorframe to the hall, making a wall of sorts. “You little guys stay here until we tell you, and then it’ll be a race to the Christmas tree.”

“Okay,” the older kids all chime, excitement returning to their voices.

“But first, coffee.” He announces to both cheers from the parents and a tirade of complaints from the kids.

“My dad always stays in the bathroom for hours after his coffee,” a little brown-haired girl whines.

Raucous laughter breaks out by the coffee machine.

“Maybe we should take that.” Utah grabs the cup from Memphis.

“Oh, like you don’t.” Memphis yanks the cup back, causing some of the liquid to slosh over the rim.

“Why do the babies get to be out there?” One tiny voice carries from the hall.

The toddlers, having been placed in a playpen, crawl around, playing with small rattles and toys.

“Because you guys want to race without us worrying the little ones will get trampled,” Lola calls to her kids.

“I guess,” they grumble.

After everyone has a mug, we find a spot to sit on couches and chairs around the Christmas tree, now laden with presents. They spread out from the tree in piles.

“You kids ready?” Rock calls from where he sits, Evelyn snuggled against his side, their little girl sitting atop her lap.

“Yes!” they all scream.

“Don’t shove each other down,” Evelyn calls in warning.

“Ready, set, go!” Rock roars.

Little feet thunder down the hall, and shrieks of laughter echo when they reach the wall of toilet paper. It doesn’t slow them for even a second when we hear it all rip. They bound into view, streams of toilet paper waving in the wind behind them. It is the cutest and most hilarious thing I’ve ever seen, and I laugh until there are tears in my eyes.

Soon the beautifully wrapped presents are torn open and wrapping paper is strewn about the room.

“Dads, you guys are sorely failing at your jobs,” Kate chastises and rises to her feet to retrieve several black trash bags from behind the bar. She hands one to each dad.

It’s not long before the trash bags are full and the kids are scattered throughout the room, playing with their new toys.

The adults exchange presents, and I rise from my spot.

“Where are you going?” Darko questions, his hands tightening on my waist.

“I need to grab your present.”

He reluctantly releases me, and I retrieve the bottle of scotch. I shoved it in the same velvet Crowne Royale bag Darko used for my necklace last night.

“Did you get me a necklace, too?” he jokes.

I glance at the bag. “Hey, it’s all I could find to put it in,” I mimic.

“It’s my favorite kind of wrapping,” he teases.

“I wanted to get you something else, but obviously”—I gesture my hand around the clubhouse—“my options were limited.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything. Having you beside me and in my bed”—he winks—“is plenty enough.”

I hold the bag out to him, and he pulls it from my grasp, then loosens the gold strings and whistles as he pulls the bottle of amber colored liquid from the bag.

“Damn, this is some fine scotch. My favorite brand. How did you know?”

“A little birdie told me.” I glance at Rock, and he winks at me.

“Thank you, babe.” Darko plants a soft kiss on my cheek.

I snuggle into his arms, and we sip our coffee, watching all the love around us.

Darko cracks the top on the scotch and pours a bit in each of our coffees, then looks at Rock, who extends his own mug for a portion.

“Irish coffee. Can’t beat that, VP,” he says.

A little while later, Kate rises. “Some of you may know, but I have a little surprise for Utah.”

Utah looks up at his wife. “What mischief are you up to now, woman?” he rumbles, but the light in his eyes reveals the love he feels for her.

I glance over at Darko and can’t help but wonder if he could ever feel that way for me.

“Should we go watch?” Darko whispers in my ear.

I nod and we follow everyone out back.

“You mean I have to walk outside for this surprise?” Utah bitches.

“Yes, now move your ass.” Kate gives his back a little shove.

Utah slides his feet into a pair of boots and follows the path the prospects dug to the shed.

Utah eyes the old shed and quirks an eyebrow at Kate. “This isn’t the part where you chop me into little pieces, is it?”

“She said it was a surprise for you, not a gift for us,” Darko shouts over my head.

Utah ignores him except for the middle finger that shoots in the air.

Kate pulls open the shed door and Utah stills.

“Babe…” his whispered voice trails off, and he stares at the pretty new bike with the big red bow. His eyes flick to Kate, and I can see the emotion shining in them. He swallows and takes a step forward. “You got me the bike I wanted.”

She smiles brightly at him.

He pulls her in for a kiss and then admires his bike, sliding his hand along it and squatting to inspect each part like a kid with a new toy. “I was not expecting this, Sissy.”

I grin at the nicknames they have for each other. They’re so stinking cute.

“It wasn’t easy to pull off. I had to get the help of a lot of people to make this work, but you’re worth it, Bud.”

Then, before Kate knows what’s going on, he turns and hefts her over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” she squeals.

“I have to thank you properly for this gift.” He hauls her past the crowd as the men hoot and whistle.

“We have a son,” she protests.

“We’ve got him,” Darko shouts with a grin.

Kate and Utah disappear around a corner.

Their little boy is the spitting image of Utah, except for Kate’s eyes. He definitely has Kate’s eyes.

I sit with him on the floor and roll his little toy dump truck to him. As I do, beads spin and rattle through it, making him giggle.

Darko and I play with him for a long time, and it feels right. The ache in my chest flares, thinking about what I may never have. This may be all there is for me; this may be the role I play—Auntie Lizzie.

When I glance up, I notice Darko watching me, and I try to plaster a smile on my face, but I’m sure he knows exactly where my mind wandered.

When Kate and Utah return, their hair is damp from a shower.

“Seems he repaid you well,” Darko chides.

Kate rolls her eyes at him but waggles her brows at me.

“You look happy,” I tease.

“Little bug was good for you, wasn’t he?” She picks him up and holds him to her.

“Of course he was. He is the best little boy in the whole world.” I tickle his dangling toes, and he squeals.

A few hours pass in the bliss of Christmas morning.

Several casseroles and coffee cakes are brought out, and we dish up generous servings.

Looking around at all these families, I realize this is the happiest I’ve felt in a long time, even with the date of Matt’s death looming in the next few days.

I glance at Darko. “Maybe you should call Eli. I’m sure he’s awake now.”

Darko glances at his phone. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He moves to a quieter area of the clubhouse, and I watch as he talks and smiles on the phone. He looks happy, too. Eli has brought that joy to him, and I hope Eli feels the same. I think he does, but you never know what’s really going on in a teenager’s mind. I just hope if he doesn’t decide to stay, he wants Darko to have a role in his life.

After a few more minutes, he slides the phone into his pocket and strides across the room to me.

“How is he?”

“He’s doing good. Said he had a great Christmas. He really liked those basketball shoes you helped me pick out.”

“That’s great.” I smile.

He sits, and I nestle into his arms.

“Told me to tell you Merry Christmas, too.”

“He did, did he?” I grin.

“Sure did.”

“Well, I hope you told him I said the same.”

“Of course.” He pauses, like he’s debating saying something, and I shift. “He, ah, called me dad, too.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“It’s only the third time he’s done it.”

“I’m sure it’s taken some getting used to on his part.”

“Mm hmm.” He nods. “But damn, I love it when he does.”

I smile and try to cement every detail of this morning into memory. It’s one I want to cherish for a lifetime.