Page 80 of The Impact (Parachutes #3)

Chapter Twenty

Christmas Eve - Tahli

The room bustled with glee. Grown-up cackling and children’s giggles battled Mariah Carey’s Please Come Home for Christmas blaring from the speakers.

“Mom, it’s our song!” Dali exclaimed, and Tahli relished in Dali’s affection. It wounded her when she felt like Dali didn’t reciprocate the love Tahli had; even when she knew it was there. Brought Tahli to an impromptu move of coming up behind Vanessa as she iced cupcakes.

“Mm. What was that for?” Vanessa tossed a grin over her shoulder at the hug Tahli delivered.

“Thank you.” A wrinkle bent Vanessa’s brow, and Tahli expanded. “Thank you for being a mother to us in the best way…when you didn’t have to be.”

She watched Vanessa’s lenses glaze over, emotion stealing any response. Only a squeeze of Tahli’s hand followed. It sufficed.

“Daddy’s here!” Terran declared it, and Tahli twisted her neck to her father’s front door.

“Damn, bitch, you gonna get Whiplash again,” Paige teased of her car accident, and Tahli punched her shoulder.

Of course, he looked good. Vin greeted everyone with a charismatic voice, smooth smile, and a bundle of bags in both hands. Perhaps he had brought some of that West Coast warmth with him, because Tahli was all sunshine. Dali and Terran were practically hanging off him while Milo ran to DJ.

“Tahli!” DJ yelled after play-fighting with Milo. She embraced him when he landed in her open arms.

“My loverboy,” she kissed his head. “Mm, look at you! You grew some more?” He grinned, looking like Vin with innocence, even if someone had tried to rip it from him. Tahli swore that if Vin hadn’t killed the monster in DJ’s bed, Tahli just might’ve done it her damn self.

“Merry Christmas, ladies.” Dalvin Hayes made his way to the kitchen.

When his amused eyes roved over her, Tahli folded her arms.

“Don’t even clown me.”

“I ain’t said shit. You look good, baby love,” Vin snickered. “Maybe I should’ve set up shop in the North Pole instead.”

He hugged her with one arm. “I ain’t know elves was doing it like that,” he playfully tugged on her ear, and Tahli snorted. Vin could do the most random things that flipped her stomach.

Sexy Elf was her costume in a short, green dress Tahli paired with black knee-high boots and fishnets. She had gone from possibly foregoing the Christmas party to sporting elf ears. Time was healing wounds. Larry didn’t hurt either.

“This is for you. And you.” Vin handed small bags with envelopes sticking out to Paige and Abby.

“Yay, Santa came,” Abby cheered. “Okay, I won’t call you Dirty Dalvin anymore.”

“Appreciate that,” Vin chuckled. “Hey,” Vin redirected to Tahli, stepping up in a whisper. “Where we at with T and this whole Santa shit?”

Tahli sighed. “Kids at school got her on the fence. Still kinda believes?” Tahli squinted. “Maybe only a year or two left.”

“Got it,” Vin nodded. “Kick it up a notch. I’ll throw on the Timbs. Make some snow footprints by the tree.”

“Ooh, do the fake sleigh tracks thing you do,” Tahli pointed at him.

“Don’t forget to eat the little elf’s cookies,” Abby popped in to tease, and Tahli swatted at her.

An hour passed, and they were all gathered around as her father led a toast to Vanessa.

Something about better and tough times, and Tahli couldn’t help but think about that video from her mother.

Her father had always been the blueprint to a good man.

But he was flawed. No. As Larry reminded her, he was a person.

Larry had Tahli working on eliminating flawed from her vocabulary.

To deem someone flawed suggests that you believe they have deviated from perfection.

But there is no perfection. People are people.

Tahli had been exploring the origins of her perfectionism.

The difficulty in forming healthy relationships with others and herself and accepting a more realistic outlook.

Tahli didn’t even want to breech again how her perfectionism was a trauma response to her mother’s neglect.

A sense of control over the one thing she couldn’t control.

“I love you, Nessa. We locked in for life,” her father joked and everyone cheered, and clapped. Tahli glimpsed Vin, as he punched into his phone with a grin divided between the moment, and wherever else his mind resided.

“Working on Christmas Eve?” Tahli handed him the plate he hadn’t made yet.

“Thank you. Yeah. Just replying to Sabrina about some meetings next week.”

“Oh.” Sabrina. Pretty blond marketing manager for Vin’s company. “How is she? She’s still getting married?”

“Uh, yeah…” Vin slid his phone away. “Next May, I think.”

That put her oddly at ease. Dali came and slammed her small hands on the counter, long, blue-painted nails tapping the marble.

“Hello, parentals. Now that I have you two together. My friend, Demarco wants to stop by, and…he wants to meet you guys.”

Tahli’s eyes cut to Vin, whose stare was locked on Dali.

“Meet us for what?” He tossed his chin. Tahli suppressed a giggle.

“Well…” Dali tapped those long nails again. Curls in the place of Tahli’s locs, but otherwise, vintage Tahli.

“He wanted to go out on Friday. But I told him I was taking Terran to Dave it felt like old times.

“Munch, you are crazy. Let’s see…I made mac and cheese…”

“Oh, hell yeah.”

“Oxtails with rice and peas. Collard greens. Fried chicken…” By the time Tahli ran through the roster, Munch oohing and aahing it all, Munch had to go. Said something outrageous about possibly being there by next Christmas that Tahli blew off.

“He gets to Facetime in there?”

“Money will get you just about anything in there,” Vin revealed, sliding the phone into his pocket. Tahli scratched at her locs.

“I can’t lie. I thought I was interrupting a phone call with a girlfriend or something.” She chuckled it off. Vin only peered.

“I’m not seeing anybody.”

“Oh.” She pulled on her fingers.

“What about you? Lassie came back around for another lap?”

She snickered. “No. Drew is actually engaged. Again. To a white girl. His colleague.”

Vin snorted.

“I actually found out that he proposed to someone else before me, too.”

“Nigga needs his own reality TV show,” Vin quipped. “Weirdo.”

“Not weirdo,” Tahli giggled.

“Yes. A fucking weirdo. With the exception of me, you don’t pick ‘em well, baby love,” he had the nerve to accuse.

Tahli hiked a brow.

“Oh! Excuse me, and your fatal attraction prone dick. Miss sending videos from the grave. I’m surprised I ain’t come home and find my fucking dog boiling on the stove.” He chuckled.

“Alright. You got that.”

Vin was in a heated football debate with her father when Tahli swallowed the last drop of her third glass of Sangria, tired of watching his flailing hands and tense expression. What was it about a man enthralled in sports, completing ignoring a woman, that inveigled her so?

“Yeah, we had a rough start, but that divisional game set the tone,” he barked passionately of his Giants as Tahli walked up.

“Borrowing him.”

“Ah, your wife is saving you!” Tahli’s father slurred, and Tahli shot him a look. “Oops. My bad.” Robert hid his lips behind two fingers, burping beer, as Tahli yanked Vin away.

“What? That little nigga here to meet us?” Vin grilled. “You knew about him, Tahli?” Vin pushed. “What the fuck kind of name is Demarcus, anyway? Marcus ain’t enough?”

“Let’s step outside so we can talk,” Tahli suggested.

“What? It’s 40 fucking degrees. Tell that li’l nigga grow a pair and come in here.”