Eric - Jody Kaye (read out loud books .txt) 📗

Momma tosses flour on the cutting board before rolling the sugar cookie dough flat. Goodies, in various baked states, fill the counters and sideboard. Ginny opens the top door of the double oven, taking the cooked chocolate crackle ones with confectioners sugar out and placing a new tray of pinwheels in to cook.

“Just when you think it can’t smell any better in here,” Daveigh calls over her shoulder as she ices a gingerbread man.

“You gonna come help us, Sugar?” Momma shoots the veiled verbal warning across the room to where I’m sitting, holding her grandson.

None of us quints can get enough of the baby. However, it takes an act of will to get me to put Corey down. I’m entranced by Corey’s reactions to my silly faces and gestures the baby makes in return.

“You’re spoiling him. Gin will have a horrible time once y’all are back to school and gone.” The kitchen is full and bustling the way it customarily is on Christmas Eve. Yet, her mood parallels mine since being informed Drew and the boys are not coming back after helping decorate at the Newhouse’s this afternoon. 

We’ve celebrated this night together since we were small, but it’ll be Rodger, Lily Anne joining them around at the table tonight. Momma granted us girls permission to take our plates to the den to watch movies. It only seems fair. Although, of all the things that have changed, losing this tradition is the hardest pill for our mother to swallow.

It’s probably for the best. From what I’ve heard, Miss Lily Anne was as shocked as anyone that her son would fall for one of Rose’s girls. I’m positive had the thought crossed anyone’s mind, they’d have bet on sweet Daveigh. Drew and I are oil and water. Vinegar, actually given my smart mouth.

I’ve hardly told anyone enough to piece together how the relationship ever came to be in the first place. And, other than wanting to clobber the boys for the lot of them lying about how they all got black eyes and busted knuckles for behaving like hooligans that night, Momma hasn’t pried over how it fell apart. It’s bad enough she knows. It piques her concern because she keeps catching me admiring Corey.

I see the way Ginny and Eric are together. Sometimes I feel like I’m missing out and others I know it’s simply my heart still missing Drew.

“I’ll be over in a minute to do the snickerdoodles.” I concede.

I’m not stupid. If I had to be honest, I’ve always assumed my mother prepared for me to be the one to come home unmarried and pregnant. I’ve been forever acting up since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. In high school, I was intent on giving everyone the impression I went through boys like people used tissues, so her thinking wasn’t too far off. It was probably more shocking Ginny, a girl who had her act together, gave my parents their first grandson.

Adam walks into the kitchen, stealing two cookies from Daveigh’s tray of perfect red and green suited gingerbread men. She threatens him bodily harm and he laughs at her, plastering icing from a tub on the table across her nose. Then Adam kneels before me, peering at his nephews and snapping off a bit of cookie in his mouth. I give him a look of derision as crumbs tumble on Corey’s head and brush them away.

Our matched green eyes meet. 

“Don’t go there, B,” Adam says what Momma is thinking. 

My anger softens, replaced by anguish. I feel silly for not understanding it had been Drew all that time. It’ll always be him.

Six months later, it’s obvious some fools rush in and others can’t see the love shining right in front of them. I wouldn’t be acting the way I am over this baby if my heart wasn’t across town. And Drew wouldn’t be sullen, refusing to come to Kingbrier while I’m here, and giving Lily Anne a run for her money if his pride wasn’t damaged.

Although, the negative aspects of the current situation are a win. I mean, they keep my parents from having another grandbaby too soon. Right now, in defiance of any other emotion, my independent streak continues full speed ahead. I need a chance to spread my wings. If I got into trouble, I’ll regret all of the goals I set but never achieved.

Ginny relieves me of the baby to feed him. I shrink, sliding my palms over my empty lap before standing. I busy myself, sorting recipe cards and finding the cream of tartar, which gets lost in every kitchen come Christmas time.

“We gotta go!” Colton rushes the kitchen, taking three times more cookies than our eldest brother did, and slicing into the lemon loaf.

Lord, someone should warn Lily Anne he’s helping string outdoor Christmas lights. She’s going to need extra refreshments. He’s rock-solid muscle with a stomach. The boy has always eaten Momma out of house and home. However, this week alone she’s been to the grocery store three times for all the food he’s stuffed into his mouth.

“Come here, handsome, and kiss your momma before you leave.” 

He gives her the sweetest peck on the cheek. Momma wipes away the stickiness left behind.

“I love you, Sugar,” she says, not expecting an identical response. C’s stingy with affection.

Colton gathers her up in a bear hug, lifting her toes up off the ground. He grins cockily at her, slicing a second piece of lemon loaf and snatches another cookie on his way out the door. “You’re the best, Momma.”

“Would it kill him to leave some for the rest of us?” Eric laughs, kissing Ginny before he grabs a napkin, filling it with snacks to eat on the way to Newgate.

Daddy’s keys jangle. He’s got an extension cord and gruff directive for the boys to get a move on. It’s not like him either.

“Wait!” Momma’s voice grabs the entire family’s attention. She gets flour on her nose when she touches it, sniffling.

“Please, Momma, don’t cry.” Guilt entices me to offer her comfort. It’s just this year the tradition is all screwy. Drew and I are bound to mature and get over it someday. “They’re all coming back.” Sometime.

“Nah, you’re stayin’ and it’s why she’s so upset,” Colton quips. The gleeful tone of his voice doesn’t match the look on his face. He’s the one breaking her heart.

“C, what’s going on?” Eric glances between his twin and our parents.

Colton studies the grommets in his black combat boots. 

We’d told him joining the Navy wasn’t all fun and games. He hadn’t cared what we thought of his choice. He was too stubborn to listen when we asked him to consider how hard our parents might take it the first time he shipped out. That’s when the dots connect, and I get an inkling Momma and Daddy are aware of something the four of us are not.

Colton’s eyes lock onto Daveigh first. He’s thrown so many punches for her. Lots she doesn’t even know about. He wouldn’t let anyone close enough to her for it to be otherwise. Maybe if he’d let her develop a thicker skin like mine, Daveigh’s tears wouldn’t be the first to fall.

“I’ve got orders to Iraq.”

The remaining pieces of my heart left intact in my chest crack.