I hate Christmas, but I do know that mom doesn't really give us kids a choice about being part of the holiday and she chose the worst one to host it this year...me. I walk into the grocery store, knowing exactly what I need to get for the holiday buffet for the number of people attending this thing. It's Christmas 2013 and I've been alone since mid 2002, making it the eleventh Christmas. After Nick did what he did to me, Christmas just hasn't been the same. I've acted like I'm happy and excited, but inside I'm not. I grab three hams, enough sweet potatoes, plenty of regular potatoes, green beans, cream of mushroom, stuffing, carrots, brown sugar, molasses, Maraschino cherries, pineapple slices, cookie ingredients, brownie shit, and Oshai said to get cheesecake things. Why? I have no damn clue. He also said to make four extra servings of everything, but won't tell me why. I just grab everything and he better be happy. He should be on his way down here later today, considering he's bringing the mystery quartet with him. I grab juice, milk, flavored waters, bottled spring water and soda. I check out and load it into the back of my SUV, my phone ringing as I close the back hatch to my car. "Hello?"

 

"Oshannie, we landed early. We'll be on the way to your house in a few minutes."

 

"Fuck! I just got all the groceries for Christmas," I reply, sitting back in the driver's seat.

 

He chuckles, saying something in Gaelic too fast for me to catch. "It's going to be about half an hour to an hour, so you should have plenty of time."

 

"You hope. I hate Christmas."

 

"One of my extras are covering the food while the other three and I handle the decorating."

 

"Good, I didn't want to do it all on my own again."

 

"Can you make me a promise?"

 

"Depends."

 

"Please be civil, at least?"

 

"I'll try. I have to let you go and get home to put this shit away."

 

"See you when we get there." I hear a little trio of voices calling someone 'papa' and 'daddy' as he hangs up, reminding myself that he's at the airport.

 

Something just tells me that it's directed at him, but I shake it off and drive home. I barely get everything put away when he knocks on my door as I close the last cabinet, immediately walking to open the door. I fling it open and he pulls me into a hug. "I've missed you, Oshai."

 

"I bet." We let go and I realize that he spun me as I hugged him with my eyes closed, placing me on my feet with my back to my driveway. I watch him signal to whoever he brought with them. "Has our family said anything about me being in a relationship?"

 

I furrow my brows, shaking my head no. "Not a word."

 

He bites his bottom lip in thought, nodding. "Well, I'm in a great relationship with a wonderful woman and she's a mom of three."

 

"I did find out about this new artist, Lil' B, you're managing," I admit.

 

"I'm not just managing her."

 

I screw my face up in shock and concern. "You're sleeping with her?"

 

"Isn't that part of adult relationships?" he laughs.

 

I purse my lips, quickly becoming annoyed. "Oshai, I'm not joking. If she's sleeping with you to get to the top, she's no better than Amanda Willaford."

 

He grabs my shoulders and shakes me lightly. "Relax. We were dating and I pushed her to try. She's a divorced mom of three great kids that I've adopted. We plan on getting married in the next few years."

 

It dawns on me. "You're talking about the fiancée that mom, dad, Heather, and Tyler rave about? Our family can't shut up about her."

 

"Yes, Sam, Oshannie," he chuckles.

 

I feel my face contort in confusion and wonderment. "She has the same first name as me?"

 

"Everyone has a nickname for her to avoid all confusion."

 

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "Just tell me it's a coincidence," I demand, putting my hands on his shoulders like I'm going to push him as I open my eyes.

 

He nods. "Purely. I asked you to be civil for a few reasons."

 

"Like?"

 

"She's still getting used to us all, she's a mom of three, she's Nick's cousin, and she's already anxious enough."

 

I wave my hands between my brother and I. "Whoa! Back up! She's family to the asshole who destroyed me?"

 

"Yeah," he huffs, "and she is entirely aware of how you feel about him. We're driving to Tampa Christmas day around three."

 

"How could you?" I snarl at him.

 

"She isn't like him. I promise."

 

"One time, but if I don't like her; never again."

 

"I understand. Mami, tar anseo." He waves her over and she quickly rambles something in Gaelic.

 

"You speak Irish?" I'm shocked.

 

She nods, nervous. "Tá a fhios agam go bhfuil tú antrína chéile le mo chol ceathrair níos sine agus a thagann go hiomlán ar a cheann, ach ní féidir liom an milleán ort. Josh agus Aaron dúradh liom gach rud a mhaith déanta aige chun tú, agus aontaím le leat agus conas a bhraitheann tú. Tá sé marbh inchinn nuair a thagann sé chun caidreamh. Tá súil agam gur féidir linn a fhoghlaim chun bogadh thart air agus is féidir leat glacadh dom i do shaol agus teaghlaigh le arm a oscailt agus a croí te. Mura bhfuil tú ag iarraidh é thart, beidh mé meas tú, agus nach bhfuil timpeall air. Tá sé an teaghlach dom, ach tá súil againn go mbainfidh tú a roghnú dom a bheith teaghlach a thabhairt duit chomh maith."

 

I am speechless! I turn to my brother, thumbing to her. "I like her." I turn back to the size 5 woman with reddish-brown hair, blue eyes, and freckles. I finally realize she's wearing jeans and a Orlando Magic jersey with sneakers, holding a boy about six years old while an older boy and a girl that looks between the boys' ages flank her. "I think we're going to get along great. Come inside," I inform her, watching Oshai and her smile at each other as she relaxes. "Are these my niece and nephews?"

 

"Yes, the oldest is Mikal, the youngest is Demitryus, and the tortured soul in the middle is my daughter, Aaliyah," she quickly introduces them, Demitryus reaching for my brother.

 

"I like your names. My name is Sam, like your mom, but..." I look at Oshai, wondering what they call him.

 

"They call me Papa and Daddy; Aaliyah is the only one of three to call me Daddy," he tells me, smiling warmly.

 

"But your dad calls me Oshannie. Everyone else calls me Jazzy or Jazz."

 

Her oldest, Mikal, walks over to me and embraces me. "Auntie Oshannie." The younger two approach me, copying his physical actions. I look at Oshai and his wonderful woman, watching them hold hands and share a quick kiss. I just might as well start calling her my sister.

 

"An bhfuil sé ró-luath a ghlaonn tú mo dheirfiúr?" I ask her.

 

She shakes her head, smiling. "No, not at all."


Incomplete
Kaotyk is the author of 47 other stories.


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