A FAMILY CHRISTMAS TERROR
“Holy crap!” Jack said.
“Yeah, that story should have come with razor blades,” Nick muttered under his breath. “Any more doughnuts?”
“I could use a shot of brandy in my coffee.” Dan raised his mug to his wife.
“Way ahead of you, sweetheart.”
Nick looked sheepish. “I don’t suppose you’d spare a shot for your favorite son?”
“Oh brother,” Nancy said.
Judy gave her younger son an uneasy look.
“C’mon, Mom,” Nick entreated.
Dan said, “Why not? Nobody’s going anywhere today. Drinks are on the house!” He waved his hand with a flourish.
“There’s the Irish in ya,” Grandpa said to Dan.
“Are you imbibing as well?”
“Have I ever said no?”
“Not that I can recall.” He cleared his throat. “I think I would like to try my voice on the next story.” Grandpa handed him the book just as Judy came back, brandy bottle in hand. She laced everyone’s coffee but Nancy’s, who had put her hand over her mug.
“I don’t really like brandy. Give mine to Nick,” Nancy said. “Do we have any cherry vodka?”
“Alright! Merry Christmas, sis!” Nick raised his mug to her.
“I hope you aren’t like this at college,” Judy admonished.
“Of course not,” Nick was quick to assure. “I’m only nineteen, besides.”
“Uh huh.” Judy’s skepticism was apparent.
“So, Dad, what’s your story called?” Jack broke the awkwardness.
“Uh, it’s called, The Night Is Freezing Fast. Oh, I know this author. This should be good.”