Christmas with the Reeds

Paul and Matt have a toolbox between them on the floor putting together toys that didn’t come assembled properly, and Pete and Sam clean up the paper that’s all over the floor. Logan takes pictures. Lots of pictures.

Pete disappears down the hallway and comes back with a small box with holes in the sides. “What is that?” I ask as he sets it down in front of me.

“Don’t know. Santa left it.”

The box lets out a whimper and my eyes go wide. He didn’t!

I lift the top and out of the box scampers the most adorable little fuzzball I’ve ever seen. It looks so much like my Maggie that tears fill my eyes.

“Oh, don’t cry,” Pete says, sitting down beside me. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

I punch his arm. “I’m not sad, you doofus. This is the best present ever.” Right after Pete and I met, my dog Maggie died. I have wanted another dog, but never found the time to actually look for one.

“You like him?” he asks.

I lift the puppy into my arms and he starts to lick my face, his sandpaper tongue scraping my chin. “I love it.”

“It’s a boy. I hope that’s all right.”

“It’s perfect.” I squeeze my eyes shut, because my new puppy is licking my tears.

He looks a lot like Maggie, and I can tell he’s some sort of a border collie mix, but I can also tell that he looks enough not like her that he won’t make my heart ache every time I look at him.

“Where did you get him?” I ask.

“Mrs. Jenkins from down the hall. Her dog had puppies, so I told her I wanted one.” He leans over to look into my eyes. “Do you really like him? If not, we can give him back.”

“Try it and I will chop your nuts off.”

Pete laughs and grabs his gonads. “You get more and more like your father every day, you know that?”

I laugh and show the new puppy to my daughter. She kicks her feet and coos.

“Merry Christmas,” Pete murmurs against my lips as he kisses me.

Sky

I try to take a minute every day to stop and count my blessings, because they are many and I am so very grateful. I watch the children as they tear into their Christmas presents, and then I see Seth sitting on the end of the sofa. He’s wearing red and green pajamas just like the little kids, and my heart squeezes because he works so hard to be a part of the family.

Seth left for college and it was a job getting him to go. I think some part of him felt like he needed to stay in the neighborhood for his sisters, and it took some time for Matt to convince him that he wants to be the girls’ father, and that Seth can be their brother. Their brother who isn’t responsible for their wellbeing all the time.

He finally left for college, and it has been easier with the girls since then, I hate to say. They still had a tendency to go to Seth for permission or for help, particularly when they weren’t getting their way. But since he has been gone, he’s starting to act a little more like a brother rather than a father.

I lean back against the couch beside his legs and he nudges my shoulder with his knee. “Merry Christmas, Aunt Sky,” he says. He doesn’t call me Mommy, not like his sisters do. But they have very few memories of their mother, and Seth remembers a lot. He was almost sixteen when she died, so he had her for a lot longer.

I lean my head on his knee. “Merry Christmas, Seth.” He pats the top of my head, awkwardly, because he’s still a teenager and he’s all elbows and knees. “What was it like when your mom was alive, Seth?” I ask quietly. “Was it noisy like this?” I motion toward all the commotion.

“No.” He smiles softly. “It was quiet. The girls were little, and Mom was sick, so we had a calm Christmas.” He sits quietly for a moment. “I wish she were here. She would love this.”

“You think so?”

He nods. “She always wanted a bigger family. Although I’m not sure anyone asks for a family quite this big.” He chuckles.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a gift I had made especially for him. I lay it in his lap. “This is for you.”

He flips it over in his hand. “Aunt Sky,” he says quietly. “Can I tell you something?”

I prop my chin on his knee and look up at him. “You can tell me anything,” I say.

“Sometimes, I’m afraid my mother will get her feelings hurt if I love you too much, you know?” he says. “So, I just wanted to tell you that even though I didn’t take your last name, and I didn’t get adopted like the girls did, I feel like you’re my mom and Matt’s my dad, and I love that you took that spot in my life. If I could pick anyone to be my mom in the whole wide world, it would be you.”

I tip my face into his pajama leg, because he’s just wrapped a fist around my heart and squeezed. When I can breathe, I lift my face. “I may not have given birth to you, Seth, but you have become my son. And I don’t think your mom would be jealous. I think she would be happy that you have people in your life that you can come to like you would natural-born parents.”

“My real dad is alive, Sky, and I haven’t seen him in two years. So I think it’s safe to assume that Matt’s as close to a dad as I’m ever going to get. He’s so much better than the real one.” He grins down at me. “Do you think you could get him to stop texting me to tell me to use a condom every time I go on a date, though?”

I shake my head. “Probably not.”