Devin Sumarno
Susan smiled and held the door open for her wife, who entered with her arms loaded with grocery bags. “Wow, that was quick.”
Donna returned the smile. “I thought so myself. The store was actually quite empty for the day after Christmas.”
“Morning, Mommy.” Abby gave her mother a quick kiss on the cheek as she entered, carrying a small paper bag.
One hand on her pregnant belly, Susan ran the other over their daughter’s blond hair. It was fairer than her own, and not as thick as Seth’s. Today it was done up in a complicated French braid that was pinned up in a bun. Not a classical ballet bun, as Abby had explained to her once, but close enough.
“Lewis’ work?” Susan asked. Neither Seth nor his partner, Julius, had mentioned that Lewis would be staying with them for the holidays, even though he was Seth’s best friend, but it was obvious that it was the former dancer that had done Abby’s hair.
Donna glanced up from the multiple packages of pasta she was unpacking. “Lewis slept over at the dads’ house last night.”
She subtly shook her head, and Susan took that as a signal to not ask any more questions. The crease between Susan’s eyebrows remained, but she nodded a slight acknowledgement.
“And how’s your head doing, love?” Susan asked softly, brushing her fingers over Abby’s cheek.
“Better,” Abby said. “Daddy stroked my head for a whole hour before bedtime last night. How’s your head doing, Mommy?”
Susan shrugged. “Could be worse.” She had been pain free when she woke up, but her neck was feeling a little stiff now. “What was Christmas dinner like at Grandma McKenzie’s? Was she upset that you spent lunchtime with my parents?”
Abby climbed onto one of the stools beside the breakfast island. “Of course she was upset. And dinner was like always. Lots of talking about the company, about how Dad should persuade Uncle Alexander to join in, since it’s a family business. Grandma went on and on about how brothers should be able to sort their problems out, and how she couldn’t understand that they had fought over a guy like Daddy. She said that Dad could always go back to Lailani.
“That annoyed Dad so much, he even spoke up for Uncle Alexander. He asked Grandma what job she thought an architect could do in a toy company. And then there were more embarrassing stories about their childhood days together, and eventually they started yelling at each other again.”
Abby took a bunch of grapes from a bowl on the counter and popped one into her mouth. “Dad told Grandma that I had a migraine and that we couldn’t stay for long, but my guess is that he just didn’t want to leave Daddy alone with Lewis for too long. We went home right after dinner, then Daddy and Lewis watched Treasure Planet with me.”
Stowing eggs in the fridge, Donna urged, “Tell her what Grandma McKenzie got you for Christmas, Abby.”
Abby grunted. “You don’t wanna know.”
One of Susan’s neat eyebrows arched up. “Is it that bad?”
The girl made a face. “A riding hat and a trial lesson.”
“Oh well. You know, she always wanted to have a little princess that she could pamper with dresses and doll houses and fancy hair styles and so on.”
Donna said, “Hey, she’s already got Alexander—”
“Donna!” Susan cautioned, smiling to soften the implied rebuke.
“Come on, Alexander uses more hair care products in one month than I buy in a year for all three of us.”
Susan slapped her on the shoulder. “Let his hair be. He had a difficult upbringing.”
Donna bit her lips. “Yeah. Prince Charming in the Tower of Brood.”
Susan slapped her again, but had to grin herself. She turned to Abby. “Was Uncle Alexander there, too?”
Intent on the grape she was rolling around on the counter, Abby shook her head. “No. Dad said he had to work. That’s why Lewis slept over at our place.”
Susan caught another of Donna’s glances and closed her mouth, biting her lip to keep from asking her next question. Her eyes widened as she watched Donna pull bottles of liqueur, wine, and spirits out of her bags and line them up on the counter. “Holy crap! Did you rob the liquor store? What’s with all the alcohol?”
“Well, the fathers of our children, and all their friends, are coming here after two days of oh-so-happy holiday visits with their families.” Donna gave her wife a pointed look. “I thought we might all need—”
“Can I go and search for the Twister mat?” Abby interrupted. “Lewis promised he would play with me.”
“Sure, hon.” Susan kissed the crown of her head and sent her off with a pat on the back. She waited until she heard the door of the attic close before turning to Donna. “So, what the heck is going on?”
Donna flinched as she turned a bottle of whiskey in her hands. “Nothing, really.”
Susan sat on the stool that Abby had vacated. “You know something. Don’t tell me otherwise.”
Donna bit her lip and sighed. “Alexander called me.”
“Again?”
“Yup.”
“When?”
“Christmas Eve.” Donna hesitated for a moment. “At my parents’ house. When I was washing dishes.”
“Oh.” Susan knew full well they had gone for dinner with Donna’s parents, but she didn’t recall hearing anything about a phone call from Alexander. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because he asked me not to.”
A frown appeared on Susan’s face. That was something new. Donna and the rather restrained Alexander had taken a liking to each other, and during the last months they’d grown close. The number of calls between them had become more frequent over the last few weeks as Alexander’s relationship with Lewis had become more complicated. But he’d never before asked Donna to be secretive about their talks. Susan didn’t know whether to be worried or cross.
“Um, okay.” She blew out a deep breath. “And…why did he call?”
“Actually, I don’t know.”
Susan raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know?”
“He didn’t want to talk about whatever was on his mind.”
“Huh? He called you just to tell you that he didn’t want to talk?”
“Uhm, yeah. Kinda. Sounds quite ridiculous when you say it out loud, but that was actually the gist of his call.”
“You were in the kitchen for an hour and a half, on Christmas Eve.”
“Yeah. There was a lot of sighing going on. Very manly sighing, of course. And I really did do the dishes, too.” Donna sighed and wiped her face. “What I did find out is that there was some kind of an incident, and that Lewis isn’t doing well. I think he was refusing to eat, at least Alexander said something about Lewis losing weight again. So Alexander brought him over to Seth’s because he thinks himself incapable of helping him. At least that’s what I think happened.”
Susan studied Donna’s face. “So,” she closed her eyes, “we have no idea if Alexander and Lewis are coming tonight?”
“Uhm, correct.”
“We don’t even know if they’re still a couple.”
“Correct.”
“We know that Alexander brought Lewis over to the dads’ for the night.”
“Correct.”
“Again.”
“Yeah.”
“We know that Julius expected Alexander to be at their mom’s last night for dinner, and Alexander didn’t show up.”
“Right.”
“And we know that Alexander doesn’t want to talk.”
“Yup.”
“Is he sure he doesn’t want to talk about whatever the damn problem is?”
“I guess.”
“Okay.” Susan raised a hand. She had confirmed that she’d understood correctly, but none of it made any sense to her. “Just wanted to make sure I have it right. So, should we be planning to do something to help them sort things out? Get them an appointment for couples therapy, maybe? Or just lock Alexander up in the attic with Lewis and make them talk. In the event that they come, that is.”
Donna sat down on a stool opposite Susan. “I wouldn’t have a clue how to help them. I mean, Alexander wasn’t even able to tell me what this is about, so… Hell, why do gay guys always have to be so complicated? And why do we only have gay friends?” She hid her face in her hands with a groan. “Maybe there would be less drama for us to sort out if they were all heterosexuals. Or women.”
“Probably. But hey, Lailani is coming, too. She’s a woman, and she’s hetero. At least I hope so for Rupert’s sake, since they’re together. See, there aren’t only gay guys on our list.”
“Uhm, yeah. But she is Julius’ ex-wife and Rupert is her husband. What I was actually referring to was us inviting other lesbians.”
“We do have lesbian friends,” Susan contradicted. “They’re just part of happy families, so they’re not likely to want to come to an anti-family Christmas party.”
“I was talking about real friends, honey, not the strange couple we met on the ferry.”
“Well, I guess the answer is because we’re too busy with work to make friends of our own. When we moved here, it was just easier to adopt Seth’s friends. That saved a lot of time. After all, I killed three birds with one stone—earning money while working with Seth in the pediatric ward, making friends with him, and finding a future father for our children.”
Donna smiled at Susan. “Maybe we should put that on our list of resolutions for next year.”
“Make new friends? Are you so unhappy with the ones we have?”
“You mean our bunch of gay perverts, who frequent a gay BDSM club and whip the skin off each other’s backs every Thursday and Saturday? No, they’re great. If they aren’t yelling at each other, making big deals out of not talking about their problems, stressing the fact that they can’t speak about their feelings, or otherwise behaving like infants, they’re totally great.”
“Are they really that bad? Is this only about Alexander, or is there something more bothering you?”
Donna sighed. “I guess the last couple of weeks have just been too much for me. The projects at work… Planning that damn charity ball alone took twice the time my boss had allowed. Then all the guys’ private dramas.” She shook her head. “I don’t get why it’s always me who has to deal with the little disasters.”
She shrugged and fumbled the grocery list out of her pocket. “It started with Eric’s move to Ridley. I understand, that Eric is asthmatic and allergic to everything that isn’t made of plastic and food that has been genetically enhanced, but he and his boyfriend together can’t even carry a stupid washing machine. Yeah, I understand that they are computer freaks and way too nerdy to eat on a regular basis, but hell, it was a washing machine, not an airbus. And why the hell is it me who always has to help out? Look at the McKenzies. Julius is what—six feet seven? And he constantly needs to rest with his broken heart syndrome. By the way—broken heart syndrome? Seriously? He can’t even have a proper heart attack, like a real man. No, Julius McKenzie gets an old ladies’ heart issue because his brother was angry with him. And yeah, there is Alexander, who is even taller, but can’t help either, because of his back.”
“He’s soon turning fifty. It’s not that easy for a man his age to haul heavy appliances up the stairs, you know.”
“Amen to that! And who else? Seth is too fragile. And we won’t even start talking about Lewis, who is fit, but in a non-muscular way.”
“Or Phineas.”
Donna threw up her hands. “Oh God. Yeah. Phileas. He’s sweet, he really is, and I’m very happy that Bruce found someone, but hell, Phileas doesn’t even reach my nipple line, not even when he’s standing on his tippies.”
“Phineas,” Susan corrected, watching Donna’s hands fiddle with the grocery list.
“Huh?”
“The boy’s name is Phineas.”
Donna looked up at her wife. “It is?”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“Since birth, I’d guess,” Susan said with a wry grin.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Donna smiled. “Well… How lucky I called instead of sending the invitations via e-mail. That would have been embarrassing.”
“You mean just because you’ve seen him once a month for, what? Four years?”
“Well, to me he’s just ‘the boy.’”
“He’s not a boy,” Susan objected. “He’s twenty-something.”
“Yeah, that makes him twenty-something years younger than Bruce. Besides, you called Lewis ‘the boy’ for over eight years.”
“Because Alexander calls Lewis that.”
“You were the first one to call him that.”
Susan shot her wife a puzzled look. She thought hard for a moment, then her mouth crinkled into a grin. “So I did. Let’s get back to the subject at hand, should we?”
“I don’t even remember what the subject was.”
“Your rant about our family of friends not moving a washing machine.”
“Oh yes, thanks.” Donna took a deep breath. “Well, as I see it, Owen and Bruce are the only two guys in that bunch who wouldn’t first gather the others for a counsel, and then get lost in drawing an info graphic on the three ultimate ways how to carry a washer upstairs. They both would just do it. But unfortunately Owen was posing half naked on a beach in Brazil at the time, and Bruce is in a wheelchair. So, if we should ever be planning to move, we really need some more lesbian friends—there’d be less talking, more working.” She ran her hands through her hair. “Actually, I was talking about taking time to make friends. Or taking time to do anything, together.”
Susan studied the look of uncertainty on Donna’s face, and she knew what was about to come when Donna raised the paper in her hand.
“Well, can I…go through the list of the preparations for tonight with you?”
Susan rolled her eyes, but smiled as she took the list and pen from Donna’s hand. “Would I ever say no to you? Ready when you are.” She looked at her as if waiting for dictation.
Donna closed her eyes. “Okay. Picking up Abby and groceries are done. I called my boss, took my cousin’s birthday gift to the post office, got Abby’s pills from the pharmacy, and helped Bruce fix the sink. Huh… I’ve got the feeling that I have forgotten something important.”
“Darling, you always have the feeling that you forgot something important.” Susan crossed out each of the completed tasks on the paper. “It’s a symptom of your control freakiness.”
“You can’t blame me, it’s an occupational disease,” Donna argued, and then went on going through the list in her head. “I’ll have to check my e-mails to see if the dessert bowls I ordered for the New Year’s dinner have arrived. Then I’ll clean the bathrooms and mop the floors. You think just cleaning the kitchen and living room will be enough? They won’t go upstairs, will they? Oh, and I need to iron the tablecloth.”
Susan grimaced. “Honey, you know that this evening is supposed to be all about us not stressing ourselves out, remember? Besides, you just did the bathrooms last weekend. These are our friends. No one will mind if they can’t see their reflection in the faucet.”
“Do you think, I don’t see what you’re up to?” Donna grinned and lightly tapped the tip of Susan’s nose. “You just want to have me sitting on the couch and watching Sherlock with you.”
“You caught me.” Susan smiled and shrugged. “It’s just that over the last couple of weeks, you were everywhere but here, and next there will be the New Year’s event at the music hall that you have to put the finishing touches on. It’s just… I miss you. I’d like to spend a little alone time with you, before…” She patted her round belly.
“But I really need to wipe the—”
“Donna!”
Donna eyed her for a moment, then capitulated with a smile. She reached for Susan’s hand and intertwined their fingers. She sighed dramatically. “Okay, no bathrooms. But…at least let me finish the list. Please?”
Susan rolled her eyes, but nodded. “That’s fair.”
Donna smiled as she took a deep breath to enumerate the last few points.
“Sooo. Owen will be here about four to make the dessert. Cream and eggs are here, the rest he’ll bring himself. Lailani and Rupert will arrive at five, as will Bruce and Phineas. That reminds me, we need to get the ramp out.” Switching gears, Donna gestured toward the pile of packages of pasta she’d bought. “You think that will be enough?”
“We could feed a whole football team and all their cheerleaders, and still have leftovers to pack doggy bags for everyone who is coming.”
Donna winced at the reminder that she had probably bought enough food and drink for an army. “Yeah, I know. It’s just that a pasta buffet seems a little lame to me. I mean, I set up events in five star hotels. Shouldn’t I have come up with something fancier than pasta for Christmas?”
“Donna, take a deep breath. Christmas is over. We are just going to have a nice evening with our friends—no traditions, no pressure, no perfection. Just having some fun and relaxing with people who really care about each other. It was your idea. So, relax. Maybe it’s ‘just pasta’ to you, but we all agreed on it, and we have two brilliant hobby cooks coming as well as a former professional confectioner. Everything will be all right. Okay?”
Donna’s gaze shifted from Susan’s face to the completed chores on the list between them, then back again. “Okay,” she finally agreed. “But I’m positive I have forgotten something important.”
“If it’s really something important, it will come back to you soon enough. But now—you, me, sofa, and Sherlock!”
* * *
“God, Bruce, that smells delicious. What are you making?”
Donna was back in the kitchen after having helped Susan serve drinks to Lailani, Owen, and Seymour in the living room, and Rupert and Phineas at the dining table, playing Jenga with Abby.
Bruce smiled and shrugged. “My own creation, and Phineas’ favorite pasta sauce. It’s quite simple. Just white wine, cream, and pears. I’m guessing you’d like a bite?” He took a spoon from the silverware drawer and rolled his wheelchair back a bit so Donna could get closer to the stove.
She dipped her spoon into the sauce, blew on the bubbling concoction, and then took a small taste. She closed her eyes as she savored the treat, then she reached out blindly and squeezed his shoulder.
“This is so good. Thank you for making this.”
“The least I could do.” Bruce helped himself to a spoonful of Lailani’s peanut butter sauce, which was in a pan on the other hotplate. He looked at the open kitchen door, then said quietly, “So, how’s Susan? Don’t take this the wrong way, but…she doesn’t look too good.”
Donna threw a glance at the door. She heard Lailani laughing and glasses clinking. “The…baby is fine. It’s just that the last two days have been exhausting.”
“Your parents?” Bruce studied her face.
Donna nodded. “Susan and I actually ended up having an argument about whose parents are worse.”
“Oh? Sounds thrilling. Who won?”
“We couldn’t decide. But I still think mine are the clear winners. Susan thinks her parents win because they kinda called me slut, in front of my daughter. And I couldn’t defend myself, not at their table.” She bit her lip. “I guess I didn’t say anything because I think they’re right. I mean…they did catch me flirting with a waitress at the charity ball. I had no clue they’d be there, but that’s really no excuse. That makes me a slut, doesn’t it? But Susan says that’s something between her and me, that it’s not her parents’ business. And it’s not like I’ve ever been welcome in their home. They just finally had a reason to express their dislike for me out loud.”
“Sounds like an amazing evening.” Bruce switched off the hotplate and then turned back to Donna. “So, what did your parents do to top being humiliated in front of one’s child between entrée and dessert?”
Donna snorted. “Well, I can’t really put my finger on it. It wasn’t really anything they said. It was…subtle. My sister and her husband were there, too, with my nephews. Guess what my parents got them as present. A complete Playmobil knight’s castle. And guess what they had for Abby. A pair of gloves and a book. Some story about a speaking dog.” She flung her hands in the air, then dropped them in defeat. “It’s not about the presents. We all know that Abby has everything she could ever want, and then some. It’s not about the book, but they practically treated their granddaughter as bastard child. They didn’t even bother to ask what Abby might like. Besides, real grandparents would know. Hell, Abbys is twelve, and even you know that she doesn’t read animal stories anymore.”
Bruce nodded and shared a sad smile with her. “I’m sorry to hear that. Hope Abby is okay.”
“I’m not sure. I guess she was probably disappointed, but she didn’t let it show.” She sighed. “But what about you? I’m guessing your Christmas wasn’t any better.”
“Actually, it started out not too badly. I was drinking egg punch with Phineas’ mother and watching Some Like It Hot. But when I was tipsy and encouraged enough to dare, I called my mother. Talked to her for not even two minutes. ‘Everybody is fine. She is fine. Father is fine. Sister is fine. Nephew is fine. Thank you for your call. Hear you next year.’ She didn’t even ask how Phineas is doing.”
“Shit.” Donna frowned and bit her lip, then she took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and turned to the cupboard for some glasses. “Bruce, darling, you know what?” She grabbed the bottle of wine he had used in the pasta sauce, and poured them each a glass. “Christmas is over, and we survived another year. Tonight it’s less family and more of this. Cheers!”
* * *
Someone knocked at the door at the same moment the phone rang. Donna set her wineglass down on the coffee table and leaned back to look out the window, trying to peek around the corner of the house. She didn’t see a car.
“Wouldn’t it be easier if you just went to the door?” Susan grinned. “I’ll answer the phone.”
Donna wrinkled her nose at her wife, but got up from the sofa and stepped over some extended legs on her way to the front door. As she neared the Jenga players at the dining table, she saw that Phineas’ chair was blocking her way. When he didn’t notice her, she cleared her throat.
“Oh, sorry. Am I…? Yeah, um…sorry.” He flushed and shifted his chair aside, bumping against the table. “Oh shit!”
Phineas flung his hands forward to catch the tower of wooden Jenga bricks that was swaying dangerously, but he grabbed thin air. The tower toppled, some bricks flying over the edge of the table, and one of them tipping Rupert’s glass. The white wine splashed onto the table cloth, then missed Rupert’s leg by an inch as it formed into a puddle on the floorboards.
“Oh God. Shit! I’m sorry.” Phineas jumped up and leaned over the table, trying to catch the rolling glass, but the sudden jolt moved it even closer to the edge. Before it could fall to the ground Rupert caught it with his left hand. “Shit! Oh, I didn’t mean to curse.” He flushed bright pink, then hid his face behind his hand. “Sorry.”
“Phineas?” Bruce’s voice from the kitchen held a hint of alarm. “You okay?”
“We’re all right. Everything’s under control,” Rupert called back, reaching for a paper napkin from the holder on the table.
Donna squeezed Phineas’ shoulder reassuringly and gently pushed him back onto his seat. “Don’t worry. Abby’s heard worse language.” She chuckled. “I’ll fetch you a cloth. Just let me open the front door first.”
Still grinning, Donna opened the front door and found Alexander, a bag filled with presents in each hand.
“Hey, merry after-Christmas!” Bags and all, he held his arms open for a hug.
Donna accepted the embrace, patting his back. “Good to see you. Come in.”
Alexander followed her in, placed his bags on the sideboard, and shrugged out of his cashmere coat.
“Would you mind hanging that up yourself? I need to get Phineas a cloth.”
Alexander threw a glance through the open living room door. When he saw Phineas kneeling with a paper napkin in hand, a broad grin settled on his face. “That’s funny. No matter what kind of party I attend—Phineas is always on his knees.”
“We’re lucky, this time it’s not raspberry juice on a white carpet,” Donna whispered.
“Well…I wasn’t exactly talking about his penchant for spilling drinks, but rather for his talent for certain other…activities.” He hung his coat on the rack. “But hey, the evening is far from over, hmm?” He winked at her.
Donna rolled her eyes, but winked back as she took the cloth Owen handed her from the kitchen doorway, a pastry tube in his other hand. She handed the cloth to Phineas as she passed through the dining room, and then proceeded into the living room.
Alexander picked up his bags of gifts and followed her. “Good evening, everybody.” He waved at the group in general and carefully stepped around Bruce’s boyfriend, a lascivious grin still on his face. “Merry Christmas, Abby.” He crouched down to give her a proper hug. “How’s your head doing?”
Donna smiled at seeing Alexander’s tenderness with his niece. She helped herself to one of Owen’s petit-fours from the tray on the coffee table. “Honey, who’s on the phone,” she hissed softly.
“Our stepson,” Susan said as she put the phone down. “Eric wanted to let us know that he’ll be late. He and Ridley are still at the office, fixing some bugs in the level design. Apparently their boss just told them that the new level has to go online next week.”
“The game with the little chocolate bars trying to survive the school yard? Cool.” Donna licked molten chocolate from her fingers. “Did they say how late they’ll be?”
“He said we shouldn’t wait dinner, but he’ll be furious if they arrive and we’ve already exchanged presents.”
Donna shrugged, emptied her glass, and took another chocolate. “Shouldn’t be a problem. We saved our holiday gift exchanging for this evening. An hour more or less doesn’t make a difference.”
“Is Eric your stepson, too?” Seymour asked softly, from the arm chair in the corner of the living room.
Susan smiled at his confusion. “I guess so. He’s Julius’ son, and we’re the mothers of Julius’ other children. Well, Abby is, of course, but soon to be plural.” She patted her belly.
“Seymour might have a point,” Donna mused. “Since neither of us is, or has been married to Julius.”
Alexander chuckled. “So by your reckoning, Seth is Julius’ partner, so he is Eric’s stepmother?”
“Um…” Lailani cleared her throat. “I still insist on being Julius’ only wife, so how about calling Seth Eric’s stepfather?”
“But isn’t Rupert his stepfather, since he is married to Lailani?” Susan protested.
Rupert chimed in from the dining table, “I don’t mind sharing. It’s fine with me if Eric has two stepfathers.”
“But we’re the mothers of his half-sister. Doesn’t that make us his stepmothers?” Susan leaned back on the sofa and took a sip of her tea.
Alexander stood close to the coffee table. “Logically, that should make you his half-mothers. But we could simply decide that Eric is too old for having stepparents. I mean…he’s just two years younger than Seth, so…”
Donna raised an eyebrow at Alexander. “Do I hear a note of…” She decided that she shouldn’t suggest “jealousy” as she had intended, so she substituted, “…a note of disapproval in your voice?”
“Out of my mouth? Concerning my brother? Never!” He hefted his bags of presents. “Um, shall I put these under the tree?” He nodded at the empty space under the fir and gestured towards the bags of gifts that already sat next to the tree.
“Oh, right. Geez, I even forgot to bring down the presents. I don’t know whether I’m coming or going these days.” Donna sighed. “Yes, why don’t you start? Maybe we should sort them into piles by name?”
Alexander looked around at the eight people who were already present. “Sounds reasonable.”
“Abby, wanna help me?” Donna stood and held a hand out to her daughter.
“Shall I lend you a hand, too?” Phineas rose from his knees and hung the cloth over the back of his chair.
Alarm bells jangled in Donna’s head, but she didn’t let her anxiety show. “Sure. Can’t do any harm.”
Followed by Abby and Phineas, she went to the upstairs wardrobe and took out the presents that she and Susan had wrapped in blue and silver striped paper. She handed Abby the watch for Julius, the perfume for Seth, and the audio books for Lewis. She took the headphones for Eric, the old school Game Boy for Ridley, Owen’s book, and the spoon lures for Rupert. That left concert tickets, massage gift cards, and dive vouchers, as well as the leather bag for Alexander for Phineas to carry.
Donna knew that giving the unbreakable to Phineas was a good idea when he missed the last step and stumbled forward, almost dropping his parcels. He recovered his balance just in time.
“Got ’em!” he called out. “Everything’s fine.”
Donna bit her lip to repress a comment, but she saw Bruce’s half curious, half worried glance into the hall.
In the living room, she knelt down next to Alexander and ordered her packages around the tree, then took the others from Phineas and Abby. She rechecked to see that everything was in place, then she helped Alexander with ordering his gifts as well.
Taking the last box out of his bag, he looked at Donna, his brow wrinkled. “Uhm…” He glanced pointedly at Susan, who was chatting and laughing with Lailani and Seymour on the sofa. “We seem to be a present short.”
Donna stared at him, glanced at Susan and then back at Alexander. She felt herself go pale.
“Is…something amiss?” Alexander asked softly.
She got up and fled into the kitchen.
Alexander was after her in no time, carefully closing the door behind him. Bruce and Owen turned from the stove in alarm.
“Donna? What’s wrong?”
“I forgot.” She exhaled. “I forgot to order it.”
Bruce threw Alexander a questioning look, but he just shrugged.
“Donna?”
She didn’t seem to hear. She rested her elbows onto the counter and hid her face in her hands. “I did it at the office. I remember typing down the email address. I wanted the package delivered to the office, but then A…a customer called, and I forgot to send the order.”
“What are we talking about?” Owen asked.
“Susan’s Christmas gift,” Alexander supplied.
Donna mumbled into her hands.
Bruce looked over at her. “Oh shit. What was it?”
“A calendar,” Donna groaned out between her fingers.
There was silence for a moment before Owen said, “Couldn’t we get a different calendar? If we hurry, we could make it to a store before closing.”
Shaking her head, Donna still didn’t look up. “It was a limited edition. Handcrafted. The photos are of untouched landscapes around the world. The sheets come in single printings, in an art folder made of laid paper. You won’t get something like that downtown.”
The doorbell rang, but not even that made Donna react.
Abby called from the hallway, “I’ll get it.” A moment later there was the sound of the door opening, followed by Julius’ voice.
The quartet in the kitchen fell silent. They didn’t want to draw attention to the kitchen.
When they heard the sound of footsteps going towards the living room, Bruce sighed in relief. “So, we need a last minute gift,” he summed up. “Is there something we can buy online? A music download? Netflix subscription?”
“How about a gift card?” Owen suggested.
Donna snorted and shook her head. “Susan says only strangers resort to gift cards as presents.”
“How about a trip for the two of you?” Bruce offered.
“And when could that happen? When Abby leaves for college?”
“Maybe just a weekend?” Owen mused. “Before Susan…” He didn’t finish.
Donna shrugged, her face resigned. “I guess I’m just gonna have to tell her that she will get her gift next week. If it’s still in stock.” Her shoulders sagged.
Bruce put a comforting hand on her arm. “Maybe you could say that the delivery took longer than anticipated. After all, it was holidays.”
She looked at him with a sad smile. “No. I know you mean well, but I shouldn’t lie to her. I just have to admit that I fucked up. Again.”
After another long silence, Alexander approached her, phone in hand. “Donna?” His voice was soft. “It’s this one, isn’t it?”
Donna turned to him, and he held his smart phone in front of her.
“This was the link you sent me a couple of weeks ago, asking my opinion? I’m sorry I never answered.”
She nodded.
“It’s handcrafted, you say?”
Donna nodded again, and he nodded as well.
“Huh.”
She tried to read his suddenly furrowed brow. “Huh what?”
Alexander handed the phone to Bruce. “What do you think?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Um…what do you mean, what do I think. What do I think about what?”
“Actually, it’s simple. I mean…it’s made by hand. So…”
Bruce’s eyes suddenly widened in realization. “Are we talking about…? Huh. I’m not sure if we can manage that in what…two hours?”
Donna looked from Alexander to Bruce to Owen and then back. “Excuse me, but what are you talking about?”
Alexander smiled at her. “Saving your ass, the way you save ours all the time.” He turned back to Bruce with a shrug. “It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”
Bruce studied his face for a moment, then turned back to the smart phone. “But we don’t have the photos. If you copy them from the preview, they would be too small to print in poster size. Not to mention that it would be illegal.”
“When something is handcrafted, a company will usually offer options for personalizing the product. Donna could say that they had a B-version or that she called and requested something special, or something like that.”
“So, you’re thinking of using your own pictures? That could work. But you can’t just copy some pics from photo stocks, either. Chances are that Susan would stumble over them at some point.”
“Exclusive shots.” Owen fell into their musings. “In other words—private material.” He peered over Bruce’s shoulder at the display and reached out to browse through the preview of the calendar that Donna had meant to order. “That shouldn’t be a problem. I know more photographers than I have friends, and these are just trees and deserts and rocks. Instagram could do the rest to get that artsy look.”
Alexander nodded—seemingly more to himself than to anyone else—and drew pad and pen out of his inside pocket. “Okay, let’s get started. We should assign the tasks. Owen will get us the content. Eric and Ridley can do the design.” He scribbled down some notes.
“If I can get my assistant on the phone, I’ll ask her if she can get us an art display folder like this,” Bruce said, tapping the picture on the phone. “She’s in contact with several galleries. Maybe she can organize something. But I’ll need to know the size of the printings. And we would need someone to drive to the museum and pick up the folder.”
Alexander nodded. “Do you happen to have a printing press at the museum that can print high quality photos in such formats?”
Bruce shook his head. “Not really. We commission a printer for everything that’s larger than a simple eight by ten info advert. And I’m sure they’re closed for the night anyway.”
“Okay. We need to think of something. And we need a delivery boy, too.” Alexander sighed. “Donna, is there much of that paper left that you used to wrap your other presents?”
“Um…I’m not sure. And we keep the wrapping paper in the cabinet in the living room, so I can’t check on how much we have without making Susan suspicious.”
“That should be the least of our problems.” Alexander brushed his hand through his hair as he thought. “Okay, priorities. I’ll call Eric, and you…” he looked at Owen, “…get us the photos. Eric will need high resolution files. Bruce, you call Linda. Maybe she can put together samples of art display folders in different sizes, and we choose later. I’d like her to start right away, if she can. If we wait until we have the final sizes of the photos, it could be too late.”
As Bruce and Owen nodded in agreement, Donna blinked and swallowed hard. “And what am I to do?”
“You just relax,” Owen ordered as he hit the call button.
“But I’m the professional event manager. I should totally be doing all that myself,” she objected.
“Relax! We mean it!” Bruce took a bottle of cream liquor from the counter and set a shot glass in front of her.
Donna caught herself staring blankly for the second time that evening. Her mouth open, she watched the three men take to their phones. Lacking anything else to keep herself occupied, she took a seat on one of the kitchen stools and poured herself a full double shot of Bailey’s, as she had been ordered.
Alexander was the first to get someone to answer his phone. “Eric, it’s me, Alexander. Where are you right now? … Oh, shit.” He stepped to the window and looked out. “Drive on. Really, drive by and don’t stop. I need you to turn around and get back to the office.”
Donna thought she heard tires screeching.
“Jesus!” Alexander chuckled. “No. No zombie apocalypse but another kind of an emergency. Let me explain it to you…”
“Linda, I need your help,” Bruce said, covering his other ear.
“Hi, Mitch. It’s Owen Hall.” Owen was in a corner of the kitchen, speaking into his phone. “Remember Cambodia last June? … Listen, this might seem a strange question, but do you happen to have shot any unpublished photos of the abandoned rice terraces?”
Sitting amidst the muted cacophony of the worst last minute plan she’d ever heard in her entire career, Donna downed the double shot and poured herself another. Just in case all this didn’t work, she could always escape the “no gift” fallout by passing out. Now and then her mind registered snatches of the hasty calls surrounding her.
“Send them via express messenger. They can send the invoice to my private address.”
“I’ll take them all—every photo that has no people in it and screams out ‘natural.’”
“Does your college happen to have a printing press? … No? Thank you anyway.”
When the kitchen door suddenly swung open, there was instant silence as the men awkwardly hid their phones. Donna shook her head, actually surprised that nobody started whistling in feigned innocence.
It was Phineas, and Bruce was the first to exhale.
“The mob is growing hungry. I’m supposed to ask when we can start the buffet.” He took a close look at the four occupants and frowned. “Um… What’s going on in here?”
Alexander laid his hand on Phineas’ shoulder and drew him closer. “Phineas, good that you’re here.” With a knowing smile, he looked down at the young man whose head didn’t even reach to the middle of his chest. “Go, tell them, that the buffet will begin in a few minutes. Then fetch my brother and Seth—inconspicuously!—and come back here. We need your type.”
“A blond?” Phineas asked, a curious look on his face.
“A bumbler.”
Phineas brow was still furrowed as he was gently shoved out of the kitchen, but he didn’t comment or ask questions.
“Julius, too?” Donna asked, her eyes wide.
A grim expression on his face, Alexander nodded. “Unfortunately, we need his type as well.”
Bruce chuckled as he looked up at Alexander. “A well-built guy?”
Alexander shrugged. “An alpha.”
* * *
“Okay, is everybody clear on what they’re supposed to do?”
Donna studied the faces of the six conspirators gathered around her kitchen island like generals around the map of a combat area, all staring with more or less comprehension at Alexander’s scribbled notes.
After a moment, Julius shook his head and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “No, I’m not clear. Not really.”
His brother suppressed a sigh. “How come I knew that you would say that?”
Julius shrugged. “Maybe because your little plan isn’t as ‘Danny Ocean worthy’ as you think.”
Alexander straightened to his full height, towering over his brother. “Got a better idea?”
“Boys!” Donna interjected. “Could you save your pissing match over Seth for another holiday? You have work to do for me!”
“She’s right,” Bruce hurriedly agreed. “We all know and all agree. You, Alexander, lost, but you’re absolutely entitled to be mad at your brother. You, Julius, didn’t play fair and should still feel ashamed. But not tonight. And after all, Seth’s virginity was lost years before either one of you knew him, so why still bother with claiming rights?”
“Excuse me!” Seth blurted, but his expression was more amused than indignant.
Bruce raised his hands in surrender. “No offense, just saying! We have important things to do, and we can’t waste time talking through that same old issue between you two.”
“They’re right,” Julius admitted.
Donna thought his tone was a bit grudging, as though he was reluctant not to press his “claim” on Seth, but she wisely stayed silent.
“Yes, they are,” Alexander commented through gritted teeth. After another moment of staring Julius down, he took a deep breath. “So, would you like to ask a question, or make a suggestion?”
Instead of making another snarky comment, Julius took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Let me see if I have this clear. I drive to the printing office with the paper Donna will give me. There I will hopefully meet my son. It will look the least suspicious to Susan if I am the one to take care of that because I’m the one who’s always on the go, and also because I have the connection to the printer. We will print the photos on the specialty paper in the poster-sized calendar design that Eric will bring along on a USB stick. Then I drive to the museum, where Linda is waiting for us in Bruce’s office. We’ll carefully tuck the calendar pages into one of the art display folders, ask Linda nicely if she can wrap it up for us in a feminine, artistic way, then drive back here. Before I come in, I call so you can create a rear diversion while we smuggle the gift under the tree. All this, totally unnoticed by the en—um…Susan. Does that about cover it?”
“Wasn’t that difficult to understand after all, was it?” Alexander praised. “We’ll start the buffet now, and all move over to the living room and have a bite. After twenty minutes or so, Bruce and I will retreat back here to base camp to work on the frame design.” He looked at Phineas. “You and Seth make sure that Susan doesn’t come into the kitchen while we’re working. But first, you’ll help Donna get that roll of paper. Gentlemen, boys, Donna,” he tried to keep a serious look on his face, but couldn’t suppress a grin, “Operation Jingle Bells has begun. Good luck!”
* * *
Donna took one last deep breath, then went into the dining room with a bowl of meat sauce. Seth followed her with another full of pasta, while Julius carried the plates.
“Dinner is ready!” Donna announced with a bright smile to the guests still in the living room, and then she rushed back into the kitchen to get another pot of sauce. When she returned, she watched from the corner of her eye as Julius went to Susan on the sofa, reached for her hand, and gently pulled her to her feet.
“Susan, dear, the security agency called,” Julius said. “An alarm has gone off in the factory. I’m afraid I need to go down there and make sure everything’s okay.”
“Now?” Susan’s mouth twitched, but she didn’t look surprised.
“It shouldn’t take too long. We had a false alarm only last week. Turned out to be a raccoon.”
Susan sighed. “Well, okay. But drive carefully, will you?”
“Aye, captain.” Julius nodded. “Oh, by the way, we forgot to bring Seth’s migraine pills, and his head is killing him. Do you think you could give him one of yours?” Having set the stage for Seth’s diversion, he went back to the kitchen.
Susan turned and studied Seth, who was about to sit down at the end of the dining table. “So, the stress of Christmas has gotten to you, too?” she said with a worried smile.
Seth shrugged. “Kinda. But no need to tell you about that, huh?”
Susan shook her head. “Do you need just regular painkillers, or the heavy duty stuff?”
For a moment, Seth hesitated, and Donna could see how he struggled not to turn to her for a clue. “Um…the heavy duty, please.”
Donna cursed inwardly, knowing Susan kept her migraine pills in several spots all over the house, so that she didn’t have to go upstairs in a case like this. She might not even have to leave the room, and there went the plan.
Rupert joined them at the table, and now looked at Seth with a sympathetic smile. “Migraine?”
Seth nodded, making an agonized face.
“We didn’t know we both suffer from migraine attacks until Abby had her first one.” Susan sighed and stroked her belly. “That’s why we decided that Julius would be the biological dad in this round.”
She went to the cabinet, opened a drawer, and pulled out a blister pack that she handed to Seth.
“Just stay. I’ll get you some water.” Susan smiled at him and then went towards the kitchen.
Seth turned to Donna, who could only stare back in alarm. Seth’s head shot back around to Susan. When Phineas appeared in the kitchen doorway, balancing the last bowl of sauce in his hands, Seth nodded at him and tilted his head toward Susan, mouthing, “Stop her!”
Donna saw Phineas’ expression turn from “How?” to “Oh, no!” in less than half a second as Susan reached the door.
Phineas closed his eyes, the mental sigh clearly visible on his face. With a turn of his hip, he stepped aside to let Susan pass, bumped his elbow on the door frame, jerked in sudden pain, and tumbled half a step forward—directly into Susan.
“I’m sorry,” Phineas exhaled, a millisecond too early.
“Whoosh” went the cheese sauce as it flew from the now half-empty bowl.
“Huuuh,” Susan heaved, as the warm, creamy mass splattered on her blouse.
Seth was the first to move. He was at her side in no time. “Whoa, Susan, you okay?” He grabbed a napkin from the table to mop at the dripping, then he took her hand. “Come, I’ll help you wash that out.” He gently drew her out of the room, towards the staircase.
The last thing Donna saw of them was Seth’s hand waving behind Susan’s back, gesturing for her to hurry up and retrieve the paper.
Rupert took a handful of napkins to help Phineas clean up the floor for the second time that evening; Lailani tried hard not to dissolve in laughter. Seymour looked up from the CD case he had been studying, and glanced from one to the other. He obviously had no idea what had been going on.
Donna pulled herself together and hurried to the cabinet. “Here, I have more napkins,” she said, snatching them out of the cabinet along with the roll of silver and blue paper, and handing them to Rupert in passing. With the gift wrap pressed close against her, she rushed into the kitchen.
“Got it,” she breathed as she handed the roll to Julius. “Your turn. By the way, Bruce, your boyfriend is a genius!”
Bruce wore a mix of pride and worry in the expression on his face. “Nobody’s seriously hurt, right?”
Donna grinned and shook her head, while Julius slipped into his jacket and Alexander whipped out his phone with a smirk.
“Eric? Rudolph is ready for take-off. Talk to you soon.”
* * *
Donna checked her watch. So far, the plan had worked well, with Bruce and Eric exchanging their data in a constant flow, and Alexander coordinating the moves of his chessmen throughout the city. But with every minute passing, she grew more nervous. When Alexander’s phone rang, she jumped.
It was a brief call.
“The Three Kings of the East have arrived.” He touched her shoulder. “It’s time for the final strike. Ready when you are, Donna.”
She took a deep breath. She wasn’t sure what she felt more nervous about—that they had to smuggle a poster-sized calendar past Susan, or that Alexander had said he would improvise the diversionary maneuver. She went into the living room and stood close to her wife.
“Susan?” She smiled apologetically at Bruce, who had been engaging Susan in conversation to provide a distraction. “Sorry to interrupt, but could you come with me for a second?” She feigned a look of concern. “It’s about Alexander.”
“Oh God, what is it this time?” Susan said, alarmed, but she got up from the couch.
“I don’t know. He said he wants to talk to you.” Donna’s lips twitched as she suppressed a tell-tale grin. “But he’s making his sad face.”
“The brood of doom?”
“No. It’s more the ‘my man pain has heartache’ sort of face.”
Susan couldn’t make a remark about that, as they were at the kitchen door. Alexander sat hunched over the island, his shoulders sagging, his fingers playing absently with an empty glass.
Susan’s annoyance instantly turned to worry. “Hey, what’s going on here?”
Alexander made a show of lifting his head ever so slowly, but even Donna was taken aback when he looked up at them with reddened eyes. She wondered how he had accomplished that.
“Hey,” he said softly. “There you are.”
“Have you been crying?!” Susan moved close to him and laid her small hand on his. “What’s wrong, huh?”
Donna moved to his other side, which put her next to the window. She could see Julius, Eric, and Ridley waiting by their cars. With a triumphant smile, Eric held up a large package. Donna nodded, which was the signal for Alexander.
“I’m…” Alexander’s voice cracked.
“Is it about…” Susan nodded towards the living room, where Lewis had been talking to everybody except Alexander all evening.
“No.” He shook his head, and tears spilled from his eyes. “Not at all. It’s just, I’m…”
“Hey, we’re back.” Julius’ voice came from the hall, as they had planned.
Before Susan could react, Alexander plunged forward and pulled Susan into a tight hug. “I’m just so happy for the four of you!” he burst out, crying shamelessly into Susan’s hair. “I mean…I always wanted a family myself, and now I’ll be the uncle of three. And this time I’ll have the chance to be there right from the start. It’s all so…overwhelming!”
Over his shoulder, Susan threw Donna her “What the heck!” look, but Donna just shrugged, gesturing Susan to hug Alexander back.
Susan closed her arms around him in a comforting embrace.
“That’s…nice,” Susan soothed, her eyes shut tightly, patting his back while Alexander sobbed.
Per the plan, when Eric knocked on the kitchen door, Alexander released Susan.
“Hey there, we finally ma—” Eric looked at Susan’s tear-stained blouse and Alexander’s reddened eyes. “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to disturb.” He raised a hand in apology.
Alexander straightened up. “Oh God, I’m sorry,” he murmured. He cleared his throat and picked up the empty shot glass that was actually Donna’s. “Cream liquor always makes me sentimental. I hope you don’t mind too much.” He took a deep breath and wiped his tears. “So, now that our company is finally complete, how about opening presents?”
* * *
Donna should have felt relieved when she entered the living room, but she was suddenly more nervous than she’d been the entire evening. Her heart raced when Susan positioned herself in front of the tree and cleared her throat loudly.
“Um, could I have everyone’s attention for a moment?” Susan waited for the room to grow silent. “Before we start unwrapping gifts, Donna and I would like to make an announcement.” She shifted from one foot to the other. Unsure of who she should look at, she turned to her wife.
Donna took Susan’s hand and nodded encouragement.
She smiled gratefully and turned to their guests. “We know it’s an anti-Christmas party, but since our little family is all here now and we all love surprise gifts, we thought there wouldn’t be any better time to tell you.” Susan sighed heavily, squeezed Donna’s hand and laid her other hand on her stomach. “Julius, Seth, we’re having twins.”
* * *
Donna waded through the mountain of discarded wrapping paper, sparing a thought for the environment, then deciding that it was not an evening to feel guilty about not being green. After the first brief look of panic had faded from Julius’ face, and the congratulations and cheers were finished, Phineas and Abby handed out the presents. Operation Jingle Bells had been a complete success. Susan was delighted by the custom-made calendar and had Julius hang it up the instant she had finished flipping through the pictures.
Now everybody was sitting around the dining room table—drinking, enjoying dessert, and talking. The ambience was as relaxed and warm and joyful as Donna had wished it would be. She sighed as she enjoyed the scene for a moment before she continued stuffing the wrapping paper into a plastic bag.
When two long legs appeared before her, she looked up at Alexander, who smiled as he crouched down beside her.
“Congrats, Donna.” He nudged her arm with his elbow. He reached out and picked up a ball of crumpled paper. “Just between the two of us, it wasn’t a customer’s call that distracted you from ordering that calendar, was it?”
Donna froze, then took a deep breath. “No, it wasn’t,” she finally admitted.
Alexander nodded slowly, his gaze wandering over to Lewis, who was playing Twister with Abby, as he had promised. “I’m sorry I’ve caused you such stress,” he said. “I really am.”
“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not that you did it on purpose. It’s just…” She shrugged.
“…too much,” Alexander finished for her.
“Yes.”
He nodded again, looked over his shoulder at the gathering around the table, and then reached into his pocket and drew out a square object. “This is for you.” He handed her a small booklet with a blank cover. “The others helped me with it.”
Donna studied his face for a moment before she took it from his hand and flipped it open. It was a pocket calendar with handwritten notations. Browsing through the pages, she found twelve more gifts.
January: Eric—fixing broken laptop.
February: Owen—spa weekend.
March: Lailani—shopping for children’s room.
Alexander grinned. “We decided not to do a rushed photo shoot in the garage. You really need more lesbian friends. Especially given your news, I guess this will be more helpful. I’m Mr. April, by the way. I’ll build that garden shed you asked me to help you with last spring.”
Deeply touched, Donna looked at him with watery eyes. “This is so sweet of you.” She sniffed back the tears. “Thanks. Really. Also for what you did today. That was award worthy.”
“It was, wasn’t it?”
“It was absolutely brilliant. Still…somehow, I still have a feeling that something is…missing. Huh. Well, never mind. Thank you. Again.”
“No problem. It covers my ‘making amends’ resolution for next year. So, one thing sorted, I’ll move on to the next. Excuse me?” He touched her arm, got to his feet, and slowly went over to the corner of the room, where Abby and Lewis were playing Twister.
* * *
“And?” Susan crawled onto the bed and let herself carefully drop on her side next to Donna. She sighed as she stretched. “Have you remembered whatever it was you thought you forgot?”
Donna bit her lip, then smiled and reached for Susan’s hand. “Um…kinda.”
“So, what was it?”
“Ummm… Telling you that you’re the most fabulous wife of all.”
“Oh. You haven’t said that in a while. Regular adulation of my awesomeness should be put on your next list.” Susan snickered. “But besides the fact that it’s true, what makes you say that?”
“Many reasons.” Donna grinned. “One is you convincing me a couple of years ago that it would be a good idea to adopt Seth’s friends.”
“Ha. Sounds like you think that the guys aren’t that bad after all.” An amused expression on her own face, Susan studied Donna’s features. “So we strike ‘making friends’ from our to-do list for next year?”
Donna nodded. “Yeah, I guess. There won’t be much time for that. We’ll be too busy coordinating our twelve volunteer babysitters.”
Susan smirked and cast a glance at the tiny calendar on the nightstand. “Oh yes, we’ll make good use of them. After all, there will be enough babies for all of them. I mean…actually it’s perfect that we’re having twins. That way, each McKenzie can have his own baby.”
Donna laughed. Sighing, she curled up against Susan. There was a long moment of silence before Susan broke it with a lengthy clearing of her throat.
“Um…Donna?” Susan squeezed her wife’s hand. “Now that we’re alone, I wanted to tell you something. I’m sure you’ve probably wondered about it already. Your present… There…was a delay in the delivery. After all, it was the holidays. So…your present is still on its way. I hope you’re not mad.”
Donna stared into the dark for a long moment before she burst into laughter as the last tensions of the evening eased away. “Oh well.” She giggled. “You know, there can only be one Operation Jingle Bells per Christmas.”
Donna laughed as she imagined the confusion on Susan’s face. She felt Susan shifting next to her, trying to see her expression so she could catch a clue.
“Um… Operation what? Is that the Bailey’s talking? Did you even hear what I just said? I don’t have your gift.”
Donna took a deep breath to stifle her amusement and reached for Susan. She pulled her closer and placed a kiss on Susan’s temple. “Never mind, honey. When my gift arrives, I’ll tell you the whole story.”