Shopping for a Baby's First Christmas by Julia Kent

Author:Julia Kent [Kent, Julia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-12-03T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 11

“Snap, crackle, pop!” Dad says as I wander into the kitchen at the buttcrack of dawn, Ellie on my hip. Following his eyes, I look outside at the glittering ice palace of the yard.

“Wow,” I whisper, shuffling to the counter like a zombie.

“Guh guh guh,” she says to him, grinning.

“Someone's an early bird!” he says to her.

“Didn't inherit it from me.” Unaccustomed to a drip coffeemaker, my mind blanks for a second. As I remember, I grab the handle of the carafe and pour the coffee into my mug. “What happened to the espresso machine we gave you guys?” I ask.

“Amy claimed it.”

“What?”

“Also, honey,” he says sheepishly. “We like the coffee this machine makes better than what you guys have.”

I look at him in mock horror. “Don't tell Declan that! It's like telling Mom you like Miracle Whip better than mayo!”

“Shhhhh! She hasn't figured it out yet.”

I find some milk, splash it into the sad excuse for caffeine water, and start drinking. If I consume three cups of this, it equals one shot of espresso.

I think. Maybe.

I don't know. Math-ing this early is hard.

“Tyler and Jeffrey are still asleep?” I ask, looking at the clock. Five forty-two.

“I told them they couldn't get up until six.”

“Better than three a.m. Tyler woke up then.”

“He did? Did he see that Santa came?”

“No.”

“What did he see?”

I blush and stammer, “Nothing.” The image of Declan's fiasco with Chuckles and Chuffy floods my memory banks.

Dad scoops Ellie out of my arms, settles her into the high chair, and sprinkles Cheerios on her tray. She gobbles them up like caviar as Dad disappears down the dark hallway.

“Hey,” Declan says, appearing like a catalog model for Hanna Andersson. Mussed hair and a slight five-o'clock shadow make him sexy. Casual. Homey and comfortable.

Except it's not supposed to be a five a.m. shadow...

I point to the coffee maker. He looks.

The most astonished expression crosses his face. “What is that?” He points, finger extended like Ellie, the gesture childlike. Gawking. Utterly consumed by novelty.

“A Mr. Coffee machine.”

“I haven't seen one of those since the faculty lounge in high school.”

“Welcome to my parents' house.”

“It's the coffee equivalent of a buggy whip.”

“I know.”

“What happened to the machine we gave them?”

“Amy took it for her apartment.”

“We could have given her one of her own!”

“I know. Mom and Dad like their drip machine.”

“Do they also snack on cyanide and enjoy being flayed as a hobby?”

I'm about to answer him when the human equivalent of an air-raid siren appears.

“SAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNTTTTTTTAAAAAA CAAAAAAAAAMMMMMEEEEE!” screams Tyler as the predictable thump thump thump of little feet comes down the staircase, his face so excited, it's infectious.

Ellie starts clapping, a Cheerio stuck to her lower lip.

Declan grabs my coffee and sniffs. His face goes sour.

“Daddy Humbug,” I whisper as I grab my coffee and chug it.

“Daddy's even more humbug now. No sex and bad coffee,” Declan whispers back, one eye on my dad. “They say hell is other people, but I'm pretty sure it’s this.”

“HHHHEEEELLLLOOOOOO!” Mom squeals from around the corner.

“It's

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