Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Beth held up a mug. “Here. This one is yours.”
“I love you.” Sylvie scurried over and took it, then sipped. “Ah.”
“Don’t flirt with my wife,” Zara quipped.
“Only because it’s Christmas.” Sylvie grinned, cradling the mug close to her body.
I cleared my throat. “Okay, can we go into the living room now? Danny is about to burst, and I don’t want to be cleaning guts out of the fireplace on Christmas morning.”
“Uncle Tommy!” Danny groaned, but he was bouncing on the balls of his feet as he rattled the doorknob. “Can we? Mummy? Mumma? Nanny? Pleeeease. Auntie Sylvie, tell them!”
I shot my sister a look at that last name, and she fake whistled as she looked away.
“Told you,” I mouthed to a grinning Sylvie.
“I’m with Danny,” Sylvie said, hugging her coffee like she would die if someone took it from her. “If I have to be awake, he should at least see if Santa came.”
“Auntie Sylvie is my favourite!” Danny rushed over to her and tugged on her pyjama top. “C’mon, c’mon!”
She allowed him to drag her over to the door, and I slid in front of them, grabbing the doorknob.
“Are you sure he’s been, though?” I asked, looking down at him. “Have you been good enough?”
“Uh-huh.” He nodded frantically. “I did all my homework, and I helped you at work, and, and, and… I tidied my room yesterday!”
“Sounds pretty good to me,” Beth agreed. “At least a stocking for all that.”
Danny’s face lit up. “Really?”
“Shall we find out?” I chucked him under the chin and slowly turned the doorknob. “Three… two… one…”
I pushed open the door, revealing the Christmas wonderland that lay behind it. The lights were off, and the only illumination came from the twinkling of the fairy lights on the tree and garlands. It gave the room a magical glow, especially when they flashed and bounced off the baubles and whatever else sparkly, reflective bits my mother had seen fit to decorate with.
Danny’s gasp bounced off the walls, and he released Sylvie right before sprinting over to the tree and dropping to his knees in front of the presents. “He came! Santa came!”
“Wow!” Zara knelt next to him on the floor. “Is all this for you? Goodness!”
Thomas slipped his arm around my waist with a smile. “It seems like you really were good this year, Danny.”
“Footsprints!” he yelled, pointing at the mess I’d made of the living room.
Sylvie jerked and almost choked on her coffee.
“Footsprints! Nanny, look!”
Mum smiled warmly, pressing her hand to her chest. “Oh, he’s made a right mess of my rug, hasn’t he?”
Danny tilted his head to the side. “Is that why you’re crying? It’s okay, Nanny. We can clean it up.”
“Yes, that’s it, love,” Mum said, wiping a tear away from her cheek. “Naughty Santa has made a big mess!”
He giggled, pressing his hands to his face. “Don’t worry. We’ll clean it up after presents, okay? Come on, there’s a stocking for you!” He pulled her over to the fireplace where the stockings were hung, and I frowned.
“There are six,” I said. “Why are there six?”
Mum smiled. “One is Sylvie’s, of course. Santa knew she was here.”
“Santa knows everything,” Danny said wisely. “That’s why I tidied my room. Uncle Tommy, this one is yours.”
“Um,” Sylvie whispered, grabbing my arm.
“Just sit,” I whispered back, pushing her down.
“Your grandmother,” Mum murmured as Danny busied himself distributing the stockings.
Zara and Beth switched when he wasn’t looking.
“Nana?” Sylvie asked.
“Yes,” Mum continued as Danny tore into his stocking. “She said she had a feeling you wouldn’t be home this morning, so she packed it in her suitcase.”
Sylvie sputtered out a laugh, and when I turned, I saw her holding a pack of condoms.
“Well,” Mum said brightly. “I suppose they’ll come in useful.”
***
“I think I’ve changed my mind,” Sylvie said, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. “Maybe we don’t see where this goes. Our families together are a bit much.”
“A bit much? No, this is perfectly fine.”
“Tom, you’re sitting there in a Grinch onesie with a miniature pig in a plaid jumper.”
“As I said, this is perfectly fine.” I looked down at Beatrix Trotter who was happily sleeping on my lap. “She’s surprisingly warm.”
“I’m surprised your mother let her in the house.”
“It’s Christmas.” I shrugged. “She’s surprisingly lenient… unless the pig is trying to eat her trees, of course.”
A tragedy we’d had to prevent more than once today.
“And what’s wrong with my onesie? It’s warm and cosy.”
She looked at the pig. “Evidently. Beatrix won’t leave you alone.”
“Are you jealous of a miniature pig right now?”
“No. I’m exhausted with having to share my life with a pig. Did you know she’s been sleeping in my bedroom ever since I started staying here?”
“She does seem to like your room.” I looked down at Beatrix. “She’s not that bad, really.”
“She poops in my bed. She goes on her jollies in snowstorms. I had to share my Yorkshire pudding with her at dinner!” Sylvie huffed, shooting a glare at the pig. “And now she’s stealing my man.”