Boris: I'm glad you liked it! Thanks for the idea!

I was listening to Christmas music on a radio station and the song "Celebrate Me Home" popped up and it gave me an idea to this story. It takes place in the future, where Lincoln is 27 and thinking about if he should go home for Christmas.

Story 7: Celebrate me Home

Prompt/Premise: An adult Lincoln had a falling out with his family, two years ago, with Christmas coming again, will he decide to come home again?

Lincoln Loud was sitting his small apartment in Seattle, it was almost Christmas Day, though one wouldn't be able to tell at Lincoln's home, it wasn't decorated. The twenty-seven-year-old was laying down in his bed as the night sky poured into his room through the large windows. The time was 7:38 PM. He was thinking of a call he made with Clyde a few hours earlier. Clyde was going back home to Royal Woods for the holiday. He hadn't seen Clyde in a few months, they lived in separate cities in different parts of the country; Clyde had become an accountant for a large company and was doing well in New York, Lincoln had working as an artist for a cartoon in Canada, for the Canadian audience. Seattle was where he would spend his off time.

Earlier….

"I guess you aren't coming here, after all," Lincoln said.

"It will be the first time my dads will be meeting their new granddaughter," Clyde said.

"That's understandable, they should see Charlotte; hope Chole is well," Lincoln replied.

"What are you going to do for Christmas?" Clyde asked.

"I guess, I'll order pizza and see what's on TV," Lincoln said.

It was quiet for moment; Lincoln thought the line went dead until he could hear the faint sound of a baby crying in the background.

"Maybe, you should go back home, see your family," Clyde said.

Lincoln bit his lip for a moment, his tongue moving around his dry mouth, his fingers wracked at the table.

"I don't think they'll want to see me, anyway, I've been doing fine not seeing them these couple years," he said.

"Lincoln, I'm sure they really would be glad to see you," Clyde replied.

"I screwed up badly, and when I left, I left without telling them where I went, only you really know where I am."

"They're your family, they haven't stopped loving you."

"You didn't tell them where I was, did you?"

"No, you didn't want me to tell them, so I didn't."

There was more crying in the background, Clyde had to go to tend to his daughter and wished Lincoln, Merry Christmas, and hung up.

Presently….

Going back home to see his family sounded easier than he felt it was. He looked over the picture of Christina on his nightstand. He missed her, she would have said Clyde was right, never know what is around the corner. He didn't even know what family events he missed; did any more sisters get married, have children, divorce, something? She'd tell him to go and see his family. If it didn't work, he could say at least he tried, right? Christmas was the most wonderful time of the year, right? If it didn't work, he could have leave and stay at a hotel, then come back home. That was how he sold it to himself.

December 22nd at Sea-Tec airport was a crowded with holiday travelers trying to get wherever they were trying to go. Lincoln had come there early, he had packed bags the night before and went to find a fight. A woman with curly dark red hair, who looked like the wear of dealing with holiday travelers had been doing its toll. Lincoln hated that she looked so familiar.

"Excuse me," he looked at her name tag hoping it was different name, "Regina, I need a flight to Detroit."

She typed on her computer and looked at up at the white-haired male.

"The next direct flight to Detroit is December 26 at 7:30AM," she replied.

"December 26th? That's the day after Christmas," he said.

"Yes, it's called Boxing Day in England," she replied.

"I wanted to go now," he said.

"Sorry, sir, but all our flights to Detroit are booked," she said.

"You see there's this thing I have to do, I haven't done it two years and I really to get there now, before I lose my nerve; you know you kind of remind me of my wife," he said.,

"Sir, you are spiraling," she replied.

"Is there anything you can do?" he begged.

"There's a flight to Denver, that has a recent cancellation, you can take that and try your luck," she said.

"Denver? That's not in Michigan," he said.

"Correct, that's in Colorado, Sir,' she replied.

"Ugh, maybe I should try a different airline," he replied.

"You could, but those lines are murder," she said.

"When's the Denver flight?" he asked.

"In 15 minutes, you can buy and check in now," she said, "It's just you right?"

"Yes, and I'll take it," he replied.

He thought himself to be the man with the plan, but he should have planned better for this. He was now on a flight to Denver and thinking of ways to get to Royal Woods. He was sitting on a window seat next a woman with long brown hair, glasses, was wearing black jeans and a blue jean jacket. She was older than him by 10 years. He looked out the window.

"What if there's direct drip to Detroit from Denver?" he thought, "I should have drove there."

He felt something on his leg, the woman next to him had dropped her pen and she had bent over to get it and her arm was pressing against his leg.

"Oh, sorry," she said.

"It's alright, are you trying to write something?" he asked.

"Yeah, trying to grade some papers, since I don't want to do it when I get there," she said.

"You're a teacher?" he asked.

"Yep Mrs. Jones, 4th grade teacher," she replied.

"That's cool."

"Yeah, it's alright, going to see my sister's family in Fort Collins; since I'm divorced and the kids are staying with their father this Christmas," she said, "Dang it, I'm sorry, I always do that."

"Hmm, guess it's alright."

"You're going to see your family too?"

"Yeah."

"That's good, where do they live?"

"Royal Woods."

"Royal Woods, where in Colorado is that?"

"Huh? Oh no, that's in Michigan, I'm taking this flight because it was the best one available to me."

"Do you need help getting home?"

"No thanks, I have money, I just have to figure out to get there."

Denver International Airport was a strange airport, he saw out the windows a giant blue bear starring inside. It was just as busy there as Sea-Tec was, he waited in line, with hope that he could get a flight. Any flight would be good at this point. When he got up there, he found out the next flight to Detroit, with an open seat, was the next day. That would mean staying in Denver for the night, meaning his plans had to change slightly.

He got into a taxi and rode to hotel. There he was able to get a room for an overnight stay. After checking in his room, he turned on the TV to make the weather wasn't against him both there and anywhere else in the country. He relaxed in a chair, his thoughts to cling to. He looked at his watch to get the time and adjusted it to the mountain time zone. There was a promotion on TV for A Charlie Brown Christmas airing that night. He looked at his hand and the wedding ring on his finger.

"I wonder if I should just order room service," he said.

The news had a report about Reininger's merging with some other department store. It reminded him of Leni had started at the company when she was sixteen and ended up being their head of commissioning new fashion and had her own line. He hoped she would be alright, it looked like Reininger's was the one buying another store. He started to think about his other sisters, Lori, was married to her high school sweetheart, Bobby Santiago. Bobby and she had moved back to Great Lakes City to take over the family business, after his grandfather had retired. He hoped they were well, they had 3 sons and 1 daughter to worry about. They hadn't seen him in that time, he wondered how they changed.

"I'm making my self too sad," he said.

He got up and rank some of the bottle of Sprite and sat up on the bed. He was too alone with his thoughts. His family were always a present cloud around him they were a constant; maybe they did care and that's why…no, it was wrong, they should have known that. He looked in his wallet, there was a slot for a picture, inside he had one of Christina. Her smiling picture.

"You see I'm trying, I'm in Denver, maybe I could go back to Seattle now," he said.

He was quiet for moment.

"Yeah, yeah, but if you and God don't help me find a way to get there before Christmas Eve, I'm taking that as a sign," he said.

He picked up the hotel phone and remembered the house number to the Loud House, maybe he could call, they wouldn't know it was him, just call them. No, they'd call back and he wouldn't want that, nobody else knew he was there in Denver. He thought Clyde, the man was going to be having a good Christmas with his wife and daughter.

"I always thought we would just live next door to each other or live in the same house and have two families, like a strange sitcom," he said.

The next morning, he made it back to D.I.A, he was perplexed with the statue of a big blue horse with red eyes. Inside he boarded the flight to Detroit, when the plane landed, he was only going to be 65 minutes away by car. He thought. The plane was packed, he hoped it wasn't too heavy, he didn't know why he thought that resolution. This time he was sitting next to a husband and wife, their kids were in the row in front. The man was bald, the woman had short black hair, their three boys had black bowl cuts.

"Mister, are you an old man?" one of the boys asked.

"Sit back down in your seat," the mother said, "Sorry about that."

The Loud didn't mind, he was used to it by now. He did think that the boy should hope he didn't have his father's genes in the hair department. It was the Christmas season so he thought he shouldn't think bad thoughts like that. Instead, he took his notebook out and started drawing a few characters from the TV show he was working on.

"Sir and Ma'am, do you mind if I give your kids these drawings?" he asked.

"Oh, they look familiar," she said.

"Yeah, it's from a cartoon, it airs in Canada, guess it might air here," he said.

"Sure, you can, that's very nice of you," the woman said.

"How do you know about a show in Canada?" the man asked.

"Well, I mean anybody can find out about anything; there are adults who like cartoons, but I work on the show," he said.

The man was quiet, Lincoln had told him off in a kind way, that kind of hurt more than if Lincoln was rude. Lincoln closed his notebook and put his hands down on top.

"I apologize, guess I'm holiday stressed," the man said.

Lincoln nodded.

The flight landed in Detroit; living in Seattle's climate for as long as he had, had made him forget that Michigan got cold in winter. Really cold, his jacket wasn't helping as he waited for the guy to bring him his rental car. Only when he got into the car and was warm, did he get the realization that he was closer to his family, but then what? Clyde made it sound like he could just show up at 1216 Franklin avenue and everything would be happy, but he couldn't think that would be the case.

He stopped in Hazeltuckey at a hotel there, he didn't want to accidently bump into someone he knew. There was a chance that could happen here too. He asked if he could as pseudonym to sign in, saying that he didn't want anybody who claimed to know him to find him. It was a strange request but was accepted when Lincoln showed him his writers' union card. Thinking that a writer for a TV wouldn't want to be disturbed made sense. He made it to his hotel room, it had an alright view, didn't really to him.

"I'm not going to see them today, it's December 23rd, and I'm tried anyway," he said to the picture in his wallet.

He put the wallet away, he kind of felt silly talking to the photo of Christina, but it was a way to get his thoughts out, he felt, it was like talking to her. She would sit there and listen to him without judgement and just let him think it out. Sometimes she would say something, and he always liked her advice.

His cellphone rang, it was Clyde calling.

"Yes, Clyde," he said.

"Lincoln! You haven't responded to my calls, I was worried about you," Clyde said.

"I decided to go and lay in a ditch, but it was taking too long," Lincoln said.

"Don't joke like that," Clyde said.

"They didn't like that one in the writers' room, either" he said, "I'm fine, I already knew you were going to try and convince me to go to Royal Woods."

"And?" Clyde asked.

"I decided to stay here, someone down the hall invited me to a Christmas Eve party, and I said yes."

"I was hoping to see you; we've not seen each other since Charlotte was born."

"I know, but, if I went, I'd just be ruining their Christmas."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, Clyde, it has nothing to do with you, I know you care, but I have to work this out my own way."

"There's no convincing you, huh?"

"Even so, there's no way I'm getting a Christmas Eve flight."

"Well, Merry Christmas, Lincoln; guess we'll talk later."

Lincoln felt bad for lying, but he didn't need Clyde to let it slip that he was close. He knew his friend help in contact with his family and would have spilled that secret; the Seattle thing was hard to keep hidden in the first place.

The next day, Christmas Eve, he drove to Royal Woods. The plan was to first check out the house from outside; he drove slowly by like he was being careful in the snow and ice. There were a few cars parked out front, that indicated others were there, besides his parents. Then he pulled off before anyone happened to see the car idling there and get suspicious.

"I can't do it," he said.

He stopped at Gus' Games and Grub, happy that it was still open. It was mostly to eat, he didn't see ole' Gus there, though. He was sitting at a booth when a man with dark red hair kept looking at him. He didn't think someone was looking at him, the man was probably waiting for someone and checking that direction. Then the man got up and starting walking over to his booth.

"Lincoln Loud?" he asked.

"Ugh, yeah," Lincoln said.

"It's me Chandler McCann" the man said.

"Oh hey, do you want to sit down?" Lincoln said.

Chandler sat down, the Loud male hadn't seen him in some time, it was strange a little. Chandler was frowning slightly as he looked at Lincoln. He wasn't looking at his face but at Lincoln's hands, or specifically: the wedding ring.

"I'm not sure how to say this, Dude, but I'm still sorry about Christina," he said.

"Thanks," Lincoln said.

"Sorry, it must be hard to bring her up and it's not my place," Chandler replied, "So, you are back in town?"

"In the literal sense, I guess I am," Lincoln said.

"I know you moved away, but not sure where, but I guess you made it well."

"I work as a writer and animator for a Canadian cartoon."

"That's great!"

"It's alright, how about you?"

"I'm here in Royal Woods, and well I own a business."

"That's cool, what business?"

"You're sitting in it."

"I'm not here for jokes, Chandler."

"It's true, Gus retired, and I got a loan and bought this place, a couple years ago."

"Guess that makes sense, you hung out here all the time."

"Yeah, my Dad was surprised, I didn't even ask him for money."

Lincoln chuckled lightly.

"So, you get to see your family for Christmas?"

Lincoln shrugged, everyone he knew, knew he had a large family, not everyone he knew, knew he had a falling out with said family.

"I left because, something caused a rift between me and my family, and I've not seen them in two years," Lincoln explained.

"But you came all this way."

"I know, I guess I wasted money; I'll stay at my hotel a couple days and leave."

Chandler ran his hands through his red hair and starred straight into Lincoln's eyes.

"You're an idiot!"

"Gee, thanks, Chandler."

"Listen, I'm not your best friend; I regret not doing a better job at being friends, I was an idiot kid, and wish, I could go back and change that. One thing, I've always admired you, you always seemed resourceful and always cared about your family. I don't know if we're friends right now, and I don't know much about your family personally, but I think I know you enough, that there's nothing you've done that your family wouldn't want you to see them again."

"You think you know me, huh?"

"Christina picked you, didn't she?"

Lincoln bowed his head, it was true.

"I'm scared," he said.

"This is your chance; you should know that you don't what could happen next."

"That's what she told me too, I still talk to her…I mean, I know she's listening."

Chandler smiled.

"I'll come with you."

"What? Don't you have this place to run?"

"This place pretty much runs itself; I can take some time off; this is important."

Lincoln drove with Chandler in the passenger seat to the house on Franklin Avenue. The two men got out, Chandler had Lincoln walk in front of him, to make sure when he turned back, he would see his face. They paced to the front door. Lincoln starred the door, a door that never changed since he was a kid, it had it dents and marks, but it was strong it stood there no matter what. He breathed out a sigh, it circled around his face. He rang the doorbell, his heart was pounding, then the doorknob turned, his heart pounded faster. Chandler was standing behind him smiling. An older woman answered the door, in other words, it was Rita, his mother. She looked at the man and was quiet for a moment, putting her hand over her mouth.

"Hey Mom," he said.

"Lincoln!" she said.

She ran up to him and hugged him. Tears were running down both their faces. Then, Lynn Sr. wondered what was going on and he saw his wife hugging their son, he rubbed his eyes and adjusted his glasses, but it was true, Lincoln was there. "It's Lincoln!" he shouted. A mad dash of Louds, which included spouses, partners, and children, ran to the door, and surrounded him, with them all trying to give a large group hug. Chandler had to move back.

"I'm sorry guys," Lincoln said.

"No, we should be sorry," Lynn Sr. said.

"I think we're just glad that you're, home," his mother said.

"I missed you guys," Lincoln said.

"Well come on in," the crowd said.

Lincoln followed his family in and remembered something for a second and ran back outside. He called Chandler to come inside and join him for a moment.