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It’s Christmas morning, and I roll over, placing a kiss to Diesel’s forehead. His boo boo has healed, leaving his handsome face unmarred.
“Merry Christmas, Grinchy.” He’s given me carte blanc to make today a very Mandy Christmas. You know me. I called Big Mama, Uncle Earl, and Maxi to bring my jumbo Santa blow-up doll taking a leak from his glow-in-the-dark yule log to mount on the rooftop.
“A grinch who loves you,” he grunts, slapping my ass.
I pat his cheek in jest. “The way I’m handling your long stroke, you’d better.”
His memory is back, and he’s still a grump. But my ass-spanking cowboy really is a cuddler. The verbal sparring happens on a daily basis, but so does make up sex. Which is da bomb dot com.
Diesel intertwines his fingers with mine, locking our hands together. Facing each other, I smile, delighting at the fine laugh lines framing his grin. I’m still getting used to his laughter. I think he is too.
“We got time for a quickie,” he whispers.
The sonorous sound of a truck engine outside says differently. The gang has arrived.
“They’re here,” I squeal, jumping out of bed. “Put on your ugly Christmas sweater.”
“I’m not wearing that shit.” He tosses the covers aside. “I love you, but not enough to have a pale-assed Santa Claus mooning Christmas carolers on my chest.”
I lick out my tongue. “Bah humbug,” I call, handing him one of his presents. It’s a fleece pullover I had custom-designed with my face and a public service announcement. It reads: Warning. I’m taken, and my girlfriend is armed and extremely dangerous.
I thought it was cute. Diesel laughed so hard when he opened the box, tears collected on those ridiculously long lashes. But he gifted me with another horseback ride before bed. Hollander might need a horse whisperer appointment if we keep fucking in the barn.
Dressed, we step onto the front porch and frown. Parked in the driveway is a Du-Haul. Two rear doors open, and I recognize my twin’s towering hair puff and Uncle Earl’s pimp daddy cane. But then, Keanu climbs down from behind the wheel.
“What’s he doing here?” The expression on Diesel’s face says he’s ready to transform into, what was it Keanu had called him, Optimus Prime.
“Grinchy, it’s Christmas. Everyone deserves to feel love today.”
“Sister.” Dressed in a skintight red bodysuit with matching Jordans, Maxi sprints towards me with outstretched arms.
“Maxi.” I return her embrace, whispering, “Why you bring Keanu?”
She rears back, smirking. “Bring him?” She waves. “He never left. Who you think been dealing cards since you ran off? Besides, Big Mama had him trade the truck for a van. They have been delivering Christmas trees for the church.” Looking around at the rustic setting, she shakes her head. “How in the Joseph, Mary, and Martha, did you find this place?”
Now, I know Lazarus was Mary and Martha’s brother. Maxi spent our Sunday school days with the pastor’s son in the coat closet, so there’s some gaps in her theology. She’s still the best sister I could hope for, so I let it slide.
Uncle Earl is right behind Maxi, his white afro slicked back from his forehead. He’s dressed in a bright red three-piece suit with a pants leg crease so sharp it could slice warm bread. “Maxi, you need Jesus.” He laughs. “Joseph was married to the Virgin Mary, not that other woman.”
My favorite uncle looks at me with Diesel holding my hand and smiles.
“Merry Christmas, baby girl.” He winks. “Big Mama and I missed you at the card table.”
I squeeze my man’s hand. “I have a new player this year.” I beam, happier than I’ve been all year.
Diesel ignores all the holiday cheer, his green orbs fixed on the Du-Haul van and a pensive Keanu leaning against the front fender, unmoving.
I call a festive, “Happy holidays,” to my former boyfriend for Christmas. “We have plenty of food inside. You’re welcome to join us.”
With my elbow I jab Diesel in the ribs. He lets out an oomph.
“Invite him to stay,” I mutter under my breath.
Diesel snaps out of his Hulk smash persona, wrapping me in his arms. “You’re going to get your ass spanked.” He grins.
“Promises. Promises,” I tease.
Keanu ambles over to the porch, standing toe-to-toe with a stern faced Diesel.
“Hey, Mandy,” he says with a tilt of his chin, then he looks up at Diesel. “What’s up, Optimus.” His voice is hard, but I know Keanu is a softie at heart. “You got room for one more?”
“Yep,” Diesel says through pursed lips.
“Cool,” Keanu says, extending his hand.
My man shakes it, and just like that, were one big happy family for Christmas. We turn to go in the house, but then I remember who we’ve forgotten.
“Where’s Big Mama?”
Maxi rolls her eyes. “Gurl,” she drawls, “she claims she heard the radio station say something about a grandmama being run over by reindeer. She refuses to get of the van.”
“That’s a song,” I exclaim.
“Tell her that. We all tried.” Maxi disappears inside the house, but not before adding, “You can thank me later for Diesel.”
My first instinct is to clap back, but then I look in my Grinchy’s smiling face. Maxi’s right. I am thankful that I, in all my wisdom, gave love and the magic of Christmas a second chance.
Cupping my hand at the side of my mouth, I yell, “Big Mama, it’s safe! Come inside!”
The whine of a motorized window lowering sounds. “Send the ass-spanking cowboy to carry me inside!” she yells back, her voice filled with humor.
Oh, no she didn’t. This is a set up. My grandmama is flirting with my man. Diesel goes to step off the porch, but I stop him.
“Big Mama,” I yell, “Keanu will bring you a plate! Stay warm!”
Diesel bursts out laughing. “A very Mandy Christmas,” he chuckles, “is the best I’ve ever had. I love you, sweetness.”
Squeezing his hand, I lead my man inside. “I love you too, Jolly Rancher.”
“Does that mean you’re moving in?”
I look over my shoulder, arrested by those bright green eyes of his. “You’ll have to wait until next season for my answer.” I wink.
Diesel snakes his arm around my waist, pulling me into his warm embrace. “You’re going to get your ass spanked.”
Merry Christmas, Lunchtime.