Dark Genius by H. Peter Alesso

Author:H. Peter Alesso
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, techno-thriller, suspense, romance, mystery
Publisher: H. Peter Alesso
Published: 2023-05-16T00:00:00+00:00

Holidays

20

Christmas was never a happy time for Lawrence. Even now, he refused to let his mind be drawn back to his childhood and memories better left forgotten. But here, in the warmth of the Weyl family home, he could appreciate what he had missed all those years—the richness of wild, exuberant love, humor, and sharing.

Smiling at Eugene, he said, “Thanks again for inviting me.”

“We’re glad to have you, aren’t we, Mom?”

“Of course, Dear. The more, the merrier,” said a plump, cheery faced middle-aged woman as she squeezed Lawrence in a bearhug. Surrounded by her children, it was clear she couldn’t be happier.

Mr. Weyl said, “It’s good to have you. Eugene has been going on about you for ages. And Jeanne, especially couldn’t wait to meet you.”

His daughter instantly turned scarlet and bolted out of the room, her thirteen-year-old wail of “Da-a-a-ad!” cut off by the slamming of a door upstairs.

In those warm words, Lawrence felt a thrill of belonging.

The large old house was chock-full of noise, clutter, and, most of all, children—their chatter was incessant, loud, and boisterous. In the dining room, the table was stacked high with food, drinks and desserts. Nearby, the Christmas tree was so tall that the angel at its top touched the ceiling. It had so many decorations that many of its branches sagged under their weight. The lowest lying were laden with personal family artifacts. Several family members were hidden from view behind the decorations, but Lawrence managed a ‘hello’ whenever they popped up.

The walls were covered with family pictures, marking each child’s progression through the years. Despite the worn carpets, the paint marred by scuff marks, and the thread-bare furniture, Lawrence knew he had never been in a richer, more hospitable home.

Bumped shoulders in the narrow hallway gave way to good-natured roughhousing, which rapidly devolved into full-scale wrestling. The three oldest boys—Gregory, George, and Eugene—soon pulled Lawrence in as well. It was a new experience for him, but he was only too glad to be included.

They were flushed, panting, and exhausted by the time Mr. Weyl called them to dinner.

Christmas dinner was a feast such as Lawrence had never seen. Pitchers of milk, mountains of bread and stuffing, thick slices of turkey drowning in gravy, and platters bursting with cranberries, potatoes, and greens.

The laughter and conversation stopped just long enough for the family to say grace. At the chorused “Amen!” pandemonium ensued as Mrs. Weyl heaped Lawrence’s plate. He couldn’t remember when he’d seen food piled so high.

How will I possibly eat it all?

He was astonished that despite full mouths, the room never lacked for animated conversation.

Everyone seemed to have something to say, or a story to relate.

This is grand.

By the time Mrs. Weyl passed him a large slice of rum cake to go with his coffee, he almost groaned aloud.

He leaned back to loosen his belt a notch. “This is all just . . . fantastic.”

“Mom makes the cake from scratch,” said Eugene.

“Dad puts in the rum,” said George.

The brothers traded gossip and talked about their girlfriends.

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