The Last Noel

“Don’t be silly. Your father knows that you don’t abuse alcohol.”

“Yeah. Not like some of those old boozehounds at the pub,” Frazier said.

“Boozehounds? Those fine fellows put food on your plate,” Paddy said.

“Including the ones who fall off their bar stools?” Frazier asked.

“We don’t serve drunks,” David snapped.

“Dad’s right,” Kat said, grinning, “We reserve the right not to serve people who are falling off the bar stools.”

“Even when they’re our relatives,” Jamie chimed in.

“Jamie…” Skyler cautioned with a sigh. So much for taking control. David was clearly taking every word seriously, which did not bode well for a pleasant meal.

“Mom, what would you like to drink?” Kat asked.

Skyler hesitated, shaking her head. “Hell. Just give me the whole bottle of whiskey.”

To her amazement, there was silence.

Then laughter.

Even David’s lips twitched.

“Come on, guys, let’s all behave,” Kat said. “We’re driving Mom to drink.”

“Let’s eat,” Skyler said with forced cheer. “Sit down already.”

“You want us anywhere in particular?” Kat asked, walking up behind her mother and hugging her.

“In a chair at the table, that’s all,” she said, and gave her daughter a little squeeze in return.

“We’re short a place setting,” Kat noted.

“No, we’re not.”

“Yes, we are. Count,” Kat said.

“There are six place settings, and five of us and…Brenda and Paddy,” Skyler said. “I’m sorry. I’ll get another plate.”

“I’ll go find a chair,” Kat said. “I think there’s an extra in the den.”

“I’m so sorry, guys,” Skyler said as Kat hurried out.

“That’s okay, Mom. You can’t count, but we love you anyway,” Frazier teased, smiling at her.

She smiled back. “And Dad?”

His smiled wavered for a moment. “We love Dad, too, of course. Although I think he can count.”

“Cute,” Skyler said. “Brenda, please sit down and just ignore my family.”

Uncle Paddy was staring at her questioningly, and Brenda looked acutely uncomfortable. How the hell had she miscounted? She just hadn’t been thinking clearly. She’d been too busy listening in on other people’s conversations. Worrying.

She didn’t want arguing. She wanted peace and the whole Norman Rockwell picture.

“I’m sorry for intruding on your family Christmas—” Brenda began.

“Don’t be silly, you’re not intruding in the least, and we’re delighted to have you. I’m just getting absentminded in my old age,” Skyler said.

“It’s all those years in a bar,” Frazier teased.

“Pub,” David said.

“Beer fumes,” Jamie put in.

David groaned exaggeratedly. “All right, enough with the pub and the beer. Brenda, you are entirely welcome here. Please sit down.”

“Please,” Skyler echoed. “Jamie likes to say that I have adult attention deficiency disorder. Personally, I think it comes from my children,” she explained, staring firmly from one of her sons to the other. “Let’s all sit and enjoy our dinner.”

Suddenly the doorbell rang.

Skyler looked at her husband, who looked back at her, his eyebrows arching questioningly. “You have more company coming?” he asked. His tone, at least, was light. “Someone’s long-lost relative? Stray friend?”

She glared at him fiercely. “No.”

“Why would anyone be traveling in this weather?” Brenda mused.

So she did speak without being spoken to, Skyler thought, then wanted to kick herself for the unkind thought. But the girl was so quiet most of the time. Probably, her family didn’t fight all the time, and she just felt uncomfortable, intimidated.

“Someone might have had an accident, Dad,” Frazier suggested.

“If someone is hurt or stranded, of course they can come in,” Skyler said quickly.

“What idiot would be out in this weather?” David asked.

The bell sounded again.

“We could just answer the blasted thing and find out what’s going on,” Paddy said.

“I’ll get it,” Jamie said.

“No. I’ll get it,” David said firmly. “You all just sit.”

But no one sat.

David led, Skyler close behind him, everyone else behind her. The swinging door that separated the kitchen from the dining room, which sat to the one side of the entry, thumped as one person after another pushed it on the way through.