It was Christmas Eve. That was the first thought that entered Picket's head when he opened his eyes. The room he shared with his little brother-Jacks-was freezing, true, and he was certain it had snowed the night before, but that didn't matter. Jacks' bed was empty, and his pjs were a crumpled mess on the floor and his bed was definitely not made.
His fifteen-year-old sister, Heather, poked her head in,
"Hey, Mother's making hot chocolate." She was wearing a red-knit sweater and had tamed her extremely curly hair behind a candy-cane swirled headband. "Jacks is already outside."
"I guessed." Picket replied, getting up. Heather nodded, turned, and slipped down the stairs. She looks like an elf. Picket thought, cracking a smile as he got dressed.
.
.
.
"Close the door, Jacks dear." Sween said, peering out the front door where her youngest son was kicking off his boots. She stirred the cocoa on the stove, leaning back to make sure Jacks had obeyed.
A snowball smacked into the window directly in front of her. She jumped, catching a glimpse of Smalls Joveson and hearing a peal of laughter from his brother, Evan, who had apparently thrown the snowball. They must just be off their paper route. Sween thought, shaking her head. She cracked open the window, calling,
"Don't you start throwing snowballs here-if you want cocoa just ask!"
"It was Evan's idea!" Smalls protested, his face appearing briefly, red with cold.
"Ha-always blaming me, aren't you?" Evan snorted. Smalls gave a reply Sween didn't quite catch.
"Come in, but don't track snow in the house!"
"Yes ma'am!" The two Jovesons disappeared around the corner of the house. Sween shook her head. Always in trouble, those boys.
.
.
.
Heather was having quite a peaceful breakfast at the kitchen table when she was set upon by a whirlwind made up of both her brothers and Smalls and Evan Joveson, who had taken the liberty over the last few weeks to join them for breakfast.
"It smells great in here." Evan said upon entering the kitchen. It certainly did. Heather's mother had been up at five o'clock smartly that morning, and had already been cooking for two hours when Heather had wandered down.
Jacks snuck a pinch of sugar from the jar when his mother wasn't looking. Heather sent him a look, but that was nothing compared to when Evan tried to slip one of the sugar cookies off the rack.
Sween smacked his hand with her wooden stirring spoon. Evan withdrew immediately, rubbing his fingers.
"Nuh-uh. That's for tonight. You keep your hands away." While she was scolding Evan, Smalls snuck a few Hershey kisses out of the bowl they were resting in. Heather raised her eyebrows at him, and his returning innocent smile just made her roll her eyes.
Picket was just coming down when Sween set a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of each of them.
"I've been up for four hours, where've you been?" Evan asked, smirking.
"Asleep. Happily." Picket replied, sitting down and licking the whipped cream off the top of his mug.
"Aw, you missed the sunrise."
"Wow. What a loss."
"What time does your father want everyone over at the church?" Sween interrupted.
"I don't know. He said he was going over there after lunch." Smalls replied. Sween shook her head. Smalls checked his phone. "Well, Grandmother is arriving sometime this morning," He said, "So he'll probably wait until after that to leave."
"What are you planning on doing in the meantime?" Heather asked, sipping her cocoa. Smalls shrugged.
"The Christmas Party isn't until this afternoon, so I have a lot of dead time to kill."
"If it's already dead, why're you killing it?" Picket mumbled. Smalls looked at him for a long moment, and seemed to be contemplating a probably snarky response. Luckily, Sween interrupted him long before anything more could be said.
"Well, as I see it, you have two options. Stay and help me bake, or go and do whatever you do outside."
"it's freezing out." Evan muttered.
"No one could have guessed." Smalls replied.
"I'm assuming your house is packed?" Picket said.
"Filled to the brim." Smalls agreed.
"He's just upset that he now has to share a bedroom with Kylen, Naylen, and with me." Evan said. "But he's mostly just upset about Kylen." Smalls shot a glare at him. "What? It's true. And by the way, it'd be nice if the two of you would maybe not argue twenty-four seven."
"We don't argue twenty-four seven." Smalls grumbled.
"It's pretty close."
"Why don't any of your older brothers have to share?" Heather asked.
"They do. With each other. Last night, when everyone arrived, Mother re-arranged the entire house. Winslow, Whit, and Matthew are now all in the same bedroom, Asher's on the couch, And Emma has to share with Lydia." Replied Evan.
"I bet you're glad Aunt Lucy and her family is coming here this year." Picket remarked.
"I think it's definitely lowered my mother's stress levels." Evan agreed.
"Alright you four! Out! I need the table!" Sween reappeared, brandishing her wooden spoon. "Come now-Out! Or not one of you is getting a present from me!" Evan let out a laugh, dodged the spoon, and hurried to put his boots on. "You two as well," Sween said, pointing her spoon at her own children, "And take Jacks with you!" Heather giggled, called her youngest brother, and then quickly pulled her coat on to go outside.