Naughty or Nice

17. Henry

17

HENRY

DECEMBER 25

W e don’t fuck around when it comes to Christmas. Charlie and I grew up in a household that took “the most wonderful time of the year” as gospel, and he and Kate have carried on the tradition now that our parents are gone.

When we were kids, Christmas Eve was for caroling, kitchen prep, and Christmas movies. In Wintermore, Christmas Eve is spent working the last shift of the year at The Enchanted Workshop, which closes every year for a week after Christmas.

There were lines out the door yesterday—last-minute shoppers and precocious kids who couldn’t understand how I, Santa, could be in Wintermore and the North Pole, getting ready to deliver presents. It’s amazing how one simple word— magic —can answer every question and make their little faces light up.

Charlie and Kate spent the day at the store, Charlie propped up behind the register with jingle-bell encrusted antlers on his head. By the time Rora snapped the last picture, we were dead on our feet. It wasn’t until I was helping her pack up her things that it hit me that the last shot of the night was the last shot of the season.

I couldn’t convince Rora to come over and watch Christmas movies with us last night. It killed me, but she doesn’t like Christmas, and I’m not going to force it. But fuck, I want her with us today .

It’s still dark out, but I can hear someone downstairs, so I jump out of bed and splash cold water on my face before pulling on my red and green plaid family Christmas PJs.

I head into the hall, almost running headfirst into Noelle.

“Merry Christmas, Uncle Henry,” she says, pulling me into a hug, practically bouncing with excitement.

“Merry Christmas,” I say, but she’s already pulling away, bounding down the stairs.

I follow behind her, finding we’re the last two up.

I’m helping Felix set the breakfast table when Noelle says, “What’s that?”

We all turn to see what she’s pointing at: three bags full of presents by the door, wrapped in plain red paper.

“They were sitting on the porch this morning.” Kate yawns, stirring a large pot of hot chocolate on the stove. Though she loves Christmas, she’s not as crazed as the rest of us and her one Christmas morning requirement is hot chocolate with coffee liqueur.

“Maybe Santa brought them,” Felix jokes.

“Pretty sure it was Rora, considering the lack of Christmas paper.” Kate smiles fondly at the presents. “We’ll drop hers off tomor?—”

She doesn’t get the chance to finish before Noelle whirls around, hands on her hips. “This is your fault,” she practically growls at me, receiving four bewildered looks in response.

“What did I do?”

“It’s what you didn’t do. If Rora dropped these off before we woke up, that means she’s not planning to come over today. You had one job!”

That really clears things up . “And that job was…?”

Noelle rolls her eyes like I’ve missed something obvious. “Make Rora fall in love with Christmas, so she would spend the day with us.”

Fucking hell.

“Did you seriously give your best friend the go-ahead to hook up with our uncle so she’d spend Christmas with us? Gross, Noelle,” Felix says with a groan.

“In my defense, I thought it would be a one-time thing! And I thought it was working because of the Santa suit?—”

“Please stop talking,” I beg. It’s bad enough that Noelle knows I was wearing it when I went to Rora’s; the rest of the family doesn’t need to know. “Rora hates Christmas. It’s not fair to force it on her if she doesn’t want to take part.”

Noelle crosses her arms, scowling. “So, you’re okay with her spending the day in a big, empty house? All alone? She probably won’t even have a real dinner since she hates grocery shopping and all the restaurants in town are closed. And did I mention she’d be all alone?”

Every word chips away at my resolve a little more, and I’m already heading for the door, shoving my feet in my boots, before she’s finished. “ When she’s pissed, I’m blaming you,” I say, cursing as I open the front door and the air hits my face like an icy shower.

“Just put on the suit, and she’ll forget she’s mad!” Noelle calls after me as I start down the driveway, my boots crunching in the snow.

Charlie’s never going to be able to look at me or Rora the same if he figures that out .

I hurry across the street, grab Rora’s spare key from under the plant pot, and head into her place. It’s dark and silent, which means Rora probably dropped the presents off early and went back to bed.

Sure enough, she’s fast asleep when I step into her bedroom. I grab the tote bag she uses to carry her camera around from the chair by the door and cross the room, taking her phone and Switch from the nightstand and tucking them into the bag. Her blankets are tangled around her feet, which makes it easy for me to hoist her into my arms .

She blinks, bleary-eyed, as I carry her from the room, starting down the stairs. “Am I being kidnapped?” she asks, her voice groggy. She sounds completely unconcerned by the idea.

I chuckle. “If you were, you’re doing a terrible job of fighting back, sugar.”

“My kidnapper smells good.”

We make it outside, and Rora cuddles into me as if trying to get away from the cold. I pick up speed, not wanting her outside for longer than necessary.

“But where exactly are you taking me?”

“You can probably guess.”

“I’m still half asleep,” she protests, gripping my plaid pajama shirt as I take the porch stairs two at a time.

I push open the door and walk Rora into the kitchen, setting her down in front of my family. Have they just been waiting ? I swear not one of them has moved.

“Merry Christmas,” I say, presenting Rora like a present.

She blinks at the sudden bright light and change in altitude. “Morning,” she says, rubbing her eyes. She looks down at herself and pauses. “You couldn’t have given me a chance to put pants on?”

I take her in for the first time. I was so focused on getting her over here that I didn’t notice that she’s wearing only a pair of fluffy pink socks and a maroon t-shirt—my t-shirt. Shit.

Do not get turned on around your family . Maybe they won’t notice she’s wearing my clothes and it won’t be weird. It’s so long on her that the hem skims the top of her knees, at least.

“Is that your t-shirt, Henry?”

Well, fuck that, I guess.

I ignore Charlie’s question. “Sorry, sugar. I’ll go get you some warmer clothes.”

I start for the door, but Kate stops me. “No need! We have your Christmas PJs, honey. Felix, they’re in the basket beside the fire. Can you grab them? Oh, we’re so happy you’re here.” She pulls Rora in for a hug, breaking the dam.

Noelle is next, then Felix, returning with her PJs. Rora hugs Charlie in his temporary wheelchair, begrudgingly wishing everyone a merry Christmas.

She stands in front of me last, and I don’t expect her to hug me in front of my family, given how weird Charlie is being about us, but she does.

I lean down and murmur against her ear, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“You mad at me?”

“It’s cool. I know it was Noelle’s idea. She’s hard to say no to.”

I comb my fingers through the ends of her knotted hair, wishing I could kiss her good morning. But she’s not wearing pants, and I don’t want to give Charlie any reason to complain on Christmas.

But when Rora heads upstairs to get changed, Charlie looks more confused than concerned.