Smalls should have known better. Of course his mother was deep cleaning-she always did whenever there was a hint of company coming. His older sister, Briony, came in, and asked,
"Did you get in trouble or something?"
"No, Grandmother is coming today." Smalls replied.
"She is?"
"Do you listen at all?" Evan asked. "Even I knew that."
"Hysterical." And Briony stalked out.
"I bet she doesn't know it's Christmas Eve either." Evan muttered. Heather handed him the spray bottle, amused.
"You wouldn't either unless you were told." She said.
"Sorry you got roped into cleaning too." Evan said, "I guess I forgot she would be doing this."
"It's fine." Heather replied.
"No it isn't!" Picket called from where he was washing dishes.
"Ignore him." Heather said, shooting Picket a look. "And anyways-you all came and helped clean the garage last month. Think of it as repayment."
"But I already got paid for that." Smalls mumbled. "By your father."
"Why're you all cleaning?" Kylen asked, yawning. Evidently, he'd just gotten up.
"Because Grandmother is coming. You can help." Smalls replied, tossing a rag in his cousin's general direction. "The fridge needs to be cleaned." Kylen rolled his eyes.
"Since when were you my boss?"
"You aren't doing anything. You can help."
"What if I am?"
"You aren't."
"Stop arguing." Heather said, shooting a glare at them. "It's Christmas. I don't want to listen to your petty fighting and nor does anyone else." Smalls didn't say anymore. He was well aware that Evan was laughing at him behind his back, but he didn't really care. Heather was right-it was Christmas, and he didn't want her mad at him on Christmas. And he'd already gotten the 'Kylen' lecture from his father two days previously-not that Jupiter was any better with Bleston. Weird family tension aside, Smalls and Kylen just didn't get along. They never had.
"Smalls! Did you mess with the car?!" Whit shouted from the garage.
"I didn't touch it!" Smalls replied. Kylen snickered. Smalls whipped around. "What did you do?"
"I didn't do a thing." Kylen replied, grinning innocently.
"Kylen did it!" Smalls shouted to Whit.
"Kylen!" Kylen shot Smalls a dirty look. "Come fix the car before my dad sees it!"
"Why was he out in the garage anyways?" Kylen grumbled, getting up and walking out to the garage. Smalls didn't want to know what he had done in the first place.
"Evan, come explain this gift now!" Glen called up the stairs, holding a plastic Walmart bag that Smalls recognized as Evan's prank gift for Asher. Picket finished the dishes, and then set about putting them away. Heather went to find a mop.
"What time is your grandmother arriving?" Heather asked, twisting her hair back into a braid. For a moment Smalls was distracted by that. "Smalls," Heather said, lifting her eyebrows at him, obviously expecting an answer.
"Uh-sometime before lunch." He responded, meeting her eyes.
He really didn't know where they stood as friends. They'd been close as long as he could remember. He'd realized he'd had a crush on her in fifth grade after she'd beat him in the 200-meter track race. (He could still beat her in endurance runs-but when it came to sprints, he was toast) After that, he'd spent the majority of middle school trying desperately hard not to let on his feelings for her. He wasn't sure how well he had succeeded-and they'd never gone away. Even now, as a sophomore in high school, he still tended to flounder around her. Heather seemed oblivious to all of it.
"Okay. We're almost done. Why don't you take the rugs out?" Smalls agreed.
.
.
.
He took the rugs, shook them out, and then returned to find that Heather had swept and mopped the entire space in the time he was gone, and was reading peacefully at the kitchen table while 'All I want for Christmas Is you' played in the background. Picket was nowhere to be seen. Smalls piled the rugs neatly in the corner, ready to be put back into there rightful places once the floor was dry. Then he sat down next to Heather.
"Where'd Picket go?" He asked.
"Somewhere where he isn't going to be made to clean."
"Is Kylen still out in the garage?"
"Yes. I poked my head out a minute ago-apparently, he decided it would be funny to egg the interior of your father's car. Whit was making him clean it out."
"Serves him right."
"Mm." Heather returned to her book. The doorbell rang.
"Matthew, you were supposed to be dressed and hour ago!" Glen shouted. Matthew barreled down the stairs, interrupting Smalls' and Heather's relative peace, still, apparently, in his pajamas. Jupiter emerged from his office, peered up the stairs, and then went to answer the door. Bleston appeared for the first time that morning, yawned, and poured himself a cup of coffee from the remains of the coffee pot.
"Why's the floor wet?" He muttered. He turned, squinted at Heather, and then asked, "May I ask why you're here, Miss Longtreader?"
"To enjoy myself." Heather replied lightly. There was a crash in the garage, and Kylen bolted inside, whipping past his Grandmother who shot him a hard look. When he saw his father he froze.
"That isn't how you greet your Grandmother, is it?" Bleston said, raising one eyebrow. Kylen cringed, paused, said a hasty,
"Hi Grandma, nice to see you," And then bolted downstairs. Whit appeared, looking furious, and stormed into his room, muttering about blasted cousins.
"Ah. Chaos as usual." Dahlia said, nodding confidentially. Jupiter sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"If what I saw in my car was put there by your son Bleston…..." He mumbled in his brother's general direction.
"It's his way of saying, 'Merry Christmas'." Bleston responded, stirring creamer into his coffee serenely.
"A card can do that just as well." Jupiter remarked.
"I only see one of your children, Jupiter, where's the other nine?" Dahlia said. Jupiter waved vaguely.
"Here, there, everywhere." He turned and bellowed in a voice reminiscent of his military days, "Kids, Grandmother is here!" It took a few minutes but soon nearly everyone was assembled. Jupiter squinted, as if counting, like he did when they were younger. "Where's Winslow?"
"Out cold on the couch downstairs." Briony answered. "He only got about two hours of sleep last night."
"Is….Is that Heather?"
"Her mother kicked her out. Picket's around here somewhere too." Evan replied helpfully. Jupiter just shook his head.
"Alright. Where's your kids, Bleston?"
"That is a great question."
"Kylen's hiding from Whit," Marianne said, counting down on her fingers, "Naylen's…..somewhere, and Lydia's outside."
"They're around here somewhere." Bleston offered helpfully.
"That's wonderful." Dahlia said. "Now, I have quite a bit of luggage…"
"I'll help!" Ten voices echoed. Dahlia laughed.
"Nice try. My Christmas secrets are going to remain Christmas secrets."
"I can help." Heather offered softly. Dahlia shook her head.
"What, do you think I left you out? No, you'll stay here. I'll carry them in myself, just like I do every year. I'll have Evan grab my suitcases." She waved them off-well, all except for Evan.
.
.
.
Heather stood as the crowd of Jovesons dispersed, smiling.
"I should get home. Do you know where Picket is?"
"I'm afraid I don't." She was about to leave, and then asked,
"Where's Emma? I haven't seen her this morning."
"Shopping with Aunt Rowan. They should be back any time."
"Oh. Tell her I said hi and that I'll see her this afternoon."
"I will." He offered to help here with her coat, an offer she accepted, and a moment later she was gone. Smalls smiled. Something wet and cold hit him on the back of the head. Evan had, apparently, thought it would be funny to throw a snowball at him when Smalls wasn't looking. Smalls did not reciprocate this feeling, but was quite happy to reciprocate the snowball.