AAAHH,you guys! I'm so sorry, i'm super late!!!! K, so at first i had really bad writer's block and then my flash drive where i was keeping this story...stopped working! i had to send it to WI to get it looked at and there's no way to know for sure that I'm going to get everything back, so i had to re-write this chapter from memory!!!

Anyway, I hope you guys like it after all it has been like 3 weeks or something, hasn't it??

Dislcaimer: I own nothing at all!!

Chapter 8: The Holidays

"Mankind must remember that peace is not God's gift to his creatures; peace is our gift to each other." ~ Elie Wiesel

I missed having Emma around. Except for the morning after she'd gotten home. She started moving around the kitchen, slamming pots and pans together at seven am. Then, the turned on the coffee pot and there was no more sleeping in for me.

I padded out to the kitchen and leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Em throw this and that into the pan on the stove like she knew what she was doing.

"Good morning dear loving sister!" She trilled. She paused in her cooking to pour me a cup of coffee and fixed it just the way I liked. "Coffee?"

I took a deep sip and then looked over at her concoction. "What are you making and why so freaking early?"

"I'm still on final's schedule." Emma smirked. "I'm making eggs Benedict and cinnamon rolls."

"What? I'm sorry, I must still be asleep."

"Eggs….Benedict…" She tipped the pan to show me the yellow sauce. "And…Cinnamon…rolls…." She opened the oven door a little to show me the rolls quietly rising in the oven.

"Where did you learn to cook? I thought you were an art major."

"I still am. But I learned at University."

"At least you're getting your tuition's worth." I sniffed.

"Try my Hollandaise sauce?" She held up a spoon.

I leaned forward and took a sip. "It's good…really good."

"So I noticed the Chinese leftovers in the fridge-" She began.

"Oh, Mrs. Wong wants you to call her."

Emma smiled. "Right, right. But I noticed how little leftovers there were."

"And? Babe, it's too early for me to draw my own conclusions. What's your point?" I took another huge sip of coffee.

"Who did you eat the Chinese with?" Emma accused, pointing at me with her wooden spoon. "You always order way more than you should and then we pig out on it for like a week! Don't say Dee or Paul, neither of them like Chinese!"

I shrugged and drank half the mug.

"I see. So, does that mean you kissed him?"

"No, it does not mean that, Emma Renee."

"Oh my God, Kayla!" Emma's eyes blazed as she put her hands on her hips in frustration. "Why the hell not?!"

"It's not as simple as you think it is," I repeated what Logan said to me two days earlier.

"What is so complicated about grabbing him and kissing him?" Emma wondered.

"See, that would just make everything ten times more complicated than it already is-!" Suddenly the kitchen was full of loud buzzing and I jumped about a foot in the air. "Jesus! Is it always that loud?"

"I don't get it." Emma shook her head, ignoring my outburst, and leaned down to take the cinnamon rolls out of the oven. "I just don't get it."

"You're still a baby," I picked off a bit of sugar and winced as it burned my tongue.

"I'm eighteen, not a baby," Emma insisted.

I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "You'll always be a baby to me."

"Oh joy," she sighed.

I hopped up on the counter and winced when the motion sent a nasty little shock through my bad arm.

"So this is the bad one?" Emma took hold of my arm and inspected it.

"Yep. It's much better now, but it aches when the weather changes. My leg too." I told her.

"So you're our little weather meter, then?"

"Only if you feed me." I held out a plate.

Emma smiled and lifted a roll out of the pan and put it on the plate. "You are so going to get spoiled while I'm here."

"Don't you think I deserve a little spoiling? After having raised you?"

"As Fox was going along he met a Deer with two spotted fawns beside her. 'What have you done,' said he, 'to make your children spotted like that?'

"I made a big fire of cedar wood and placed them before it. The sparks thrown off the burned spots which you see,' answered the Deer-"

"Honey, I'm home!" Emma called as she came in the door interrupting my reading.

"Hi dear, how was your day?" I replied, marking my page and closed the book. I stretched and jumped off the couch where I'd been curled up all day reading.

"I brought stuff to make tonight!" She chirped as I came into the kitchen.

"What'd ya bring me?" I peeked over the fridge door.

"Stuff to make a cake and some champagne and beer and a few other fun things." Emma slipped her apron off and laid it on the counter, taking her tips out, smiling to herself.

"What are you so happy about?" I asked, slightly suspicious. I followed her to her room and curled up on her bed. It was more comfortable than mine was, maybe because I didn't sleep in it every night and because since she'd been gone I couldn't bring myself to go into her room. As I laid my head down on the mattress, I noticed a blue blouse and picked it up.

"Nothing!" Emma pulled a long sleeve shirt over her shoulders. "Nothing at all."

"Oh, come on spill!" I insisted as I inspected the blouse and considered stealing it.

She glanced at me. "Aren't you going to change?"

I snorted. "It's a few teachers from school, your friends from high school and Dee and Paul. They saw me last year when I had bronchitis, remember?" I shuddered. That was not a pretty time for me; I hardly got out of bed for about two weeks. The doctor even prescribed me an inhaler for about two months. "They are going to be totally fine with me in sweatpants."

Emma shot me a sneaky glance. "Well, I invited someone else."

"Who?" I seriously considered sneaking the blouse back to my room before Emma went back to school.

"Your friend Logan."

I dropped the blouse and looked at her. "You did what now?"

"I invited Logan to New Years Eve and you were right."

"About what?"

"He does have nice bone structure."

"Emma-

"I was totally cool," Emma started brushing her hair out. "I was driving home and I ran into Dee who was picking up Paul and they were talking to a guy, I assumed was Logan," she shrugged. "It was and I asked him what he was doing for New Years, he said nothing. So I told him to come hang out with us. I assured him it was low key, I would be cooking and that you wouldn't be anywhere near the kitchen. Say something please."

"What am I supposed to say?" I threw up my hands in surrender. "I have no words."

"You could ask if he was coming."

I rolled my eyes and threw her a bone. "Fine. Is he coming?"

Emma was smug. "Well, duh. As soon as I mentioned you, he agreed. And grinned like a moron."

"Oh really?" I wondered sarcastically.

"Uh yeah…" Emma placed her hand on her hip. "Go get changed out of those sweatpants. I'll start cooking."

"I haven't done laundry in like two weeks, I've got nothing to wear!" I groaned.

Emma stopped and cocked her head to one side considering me. "Do you still have those dark wash jeans?"

"Yeah…" they were crumpled up on the floor next to my bed.

"Those, the blue blouse and that white undershirt. And the silver snowflake necklace that Dee got you last year for Christmas."

"How do you know-"

"Go change!" She tried to shove me through the door. "Now! They're gonna be here in less than an hour!"

That less than an hour went by awfully fast, I realized as the doorbell rang and I was still brushing my hair. "Emma! The door!"

"Kayla! Quit primping and get your ass out here!" Emma yelled back as I heard her open the door and then Dee's laugh over everything else.

I gave my hair one last stroke and straightened my necklace a little before I came out of. "I am not primping! I was getting dressed as per your orders," I told Emma as I walked into the kitchen. I gave Dee and Paul hugs and then smiled at Logan who gave me right one back.

"What were you going to wear?" Dee as she twirled me around.

"What I was wearing earlier." I grinned. "Sweatpants and my undershirt; I was reading." I told their curious looks.

"Ah, hem!" Emma announced from behind the island and set a huge cake on the counter beside the huge piles of food which I never saw her make. "I present my most decedent creation to date: my cinnamon-sugar cake with chocolate butter-cream frosting."

We all clapped for her as Dee got a few beers out of the fridge. "So where did you learn all this, Em?"

"University." Em and I chorused and laughed at our private joke. The door bell sounded and Em ran toward it. A few seconds later, five or six girlish squeals made Dee, Paul, Logan and I cover our ears as a bunch of Em's high school friends came in. Paul and Dee scooted toward the food, leaving Logan and I alone at the counter.

"So, this is normal for New Years?" He asked underneath all the din.

I shrugged. "For us? Pretty much yeah. We're not very formal, if you couldn't already tell. I mean, some people make a big production and stuff but…"

"I like it." He told me with that half smile of his.

"It's not perfect," I took a sip of the beer that Dee had gotten out of the fridge. "But it works in a weird way."

"I can see that. So, when did this-" he pointed at the food. "-all start?"

"Emma's cooking thing? Uh, when she came home from University. I don't know, she never had an interest before. I'm mean, she's an art major."

"Really? Art?" He glanced around and then noticed a few of the paintings we'd put up; one of a bright blue horse in a yellow field, one of Dee and I, and one of our mother, her and me when we were younger. "She's good."

"Be prepared though." I warned him. "Now that you've been accepted into the group, you will be considered subject matter and will be fodder for her 'creative output'."

Logan chuckled. "That is really what she calls it?"

"She's…Emma." I grinned. "That's all I can say."

About ten thirty, after most of the food had been consumed, and everyone was listening intently to one of Emma's university stories, I realized that I didn't see Logan in a while. I poked my head into every possible place and then I glanced out the back door.

I grabbed a jacket and crept outside as well. Apparently though, I wasn't as quiet as I thought I was; the door must have creaked because he turned. "Sick of us already?" I asked.

"No," he shook his head. "Just a little fresh air."

I glanced up and saw the twinkle lights that Paul put up for us before Christmas, and beyond them, the stars blinking out from beyond the dark blue black of the sky. The night was clear, not even a wisp of a cloud on the tops of the mountains. The moon was only at half crescent and shone brightly among the crown of stars.

"This," he gestured up at the sky. "This is what I came for."

"Too many city lights where you're from?" I wondered as I stood next to him.

"Depends on where I was."

"Where have you been?"

"I think the real question is; where haven't I been?" But the tone in his voice seemed to indicate that I shouldn't ask where he'd been.

"That much traveling?" I grinned. "I'm kinda jealous."

He shook his head. "You shouldn't be, really."

"The farthest I've ever been from Canmore is Toronto." I supplied. "I've never really been anywhere, I've always been too busy, first with school, then with Mom getting sick and then taking care of Emma."

"How did she die?" he asked then his eyes softened just a little. "Sorry, you don't have to tell if you don't want to."

"No, it's fine. I mean, I bring her up all the time; she's practically our patron saint." He grinned at that. "Do you want the short version or the long version? Word to the wise, though, it's a sad story. Not a good one for New Years."

"I can handle it," he assured me.

"Fine. Just remember, you asked for it." We sat in the only chairs without snow and I told him the whole story about Emma's father and his accident and how we came to Canmore and then how she got sick. "…they put her on so much morphine in the end, she hardly recognized us. She kept seeing Christopher and she was almost happy to go…Happy to be with him again."

"And you believe that? That she's with him? Where ever it is they are?" He gestured up at the winding velvet blue sky.

I looked up and smiled, feeling that maybe Mom was smiling down on me even now. "Yeah, I do…"

"I'm sorry," he whispered gruffly. "She didn't deserve that."

"No, she didn't…" I swallowed.

"Neither did Emma."

I couldn't say anything.

"Neither did you."

I smiled through the prickling tears. "Thank you." I wiped my eyes. "So, what about you?"

"What about me?" he challenged.

"Well, you've never talked about your family except for the brother you don't speak to. There has to be a story in there somewhere." I reasoned.

Logan was quiet for a moment. "I may not be able to tell you everything…"

"How much will you not tell me?" I wondered.

"Details." He assured me.

"Fair enough. On you go…" I prompted with a wave of my hand.

"It's a long sad story," he repeated my words back to me with his cheeky grin. "Not a good one for New Years."

"I can handle it."

"Remember," he pointed at me. "You asked for it."

However, I was almost wished that I hadn't asked. His story was eerily parallel to mine, I realized as he started to tell it. He was raised as another man's son, Victor's father, and watched his foster father murdered by his biological father. "…And so, we ran." He shrugged. "As far and as fast as we could."

I sat back in the chair, shaking my head. "And your mother…? She never came after you?"

Logan waved his hand as if brushing the thought aside. "Nah, she was better off…" But I saw the hurt there, at the death of one parent, and the abandonment of the other. He hid it with sarcasm and humor; it detached him from anything else that could hurt him. Especially after the war and all the horror he'd lived through.

It killed me to know that he had to do that to keep himself sane, but at the same time I could see the mirror he held up to me, that beneath it all, we were both in some way, shape or form the same scared kids we'd been when the world we knew came crashing down around us.

I retreated into my sister's love, putting her needs before my own, creating the family I so desperately needed to deal with my mother's death, her family's disapproval at my birth. That was where I hid myself.

"No," I whispered while breaking the touch barrier that we'd created since the hospital. "She made a huge mistake letting you both go." I reached over and placed my hand on his.

He had his other hand pressed to his mouth as he considered my input, glancing at our hands. Then, slowly, his fingers twisted around mine in response. He smiled a real smile that time, not the cheeky half smile or the one that he put on for other people, but one that reached all the way up to his eyes. "I don't know about that."

"Well, then maybe she didn't deserve you."

That he laughed at. "I wouldn't go that far."

I sniffed. "She obviously never knew you."

"You seem awfully sure of yourself."

"It's not every day that you meet someone with such 'a whacked sense of honor'." I smiled at him.

"You're not so bad yourself." He replied with a smile of his own.

Suddenly, I could hear everyone inside starting to count down to the New Year; "…10…9…" I looked over at Logan, who only looked at me and I felt a shift in the universe. It wasn't earth-shattering or noticeable by other people. It was as if we had stepped outside time or space, or the ordinary rules that governed the world. We were going to make our own.

"…8…7…" He sat up in his chair, as well. We were so close, our knees were almost touching.

"…6…5…"

I didn't plan this; I didn't want any of this. But I couldn't help it. I didn't notice the cold so much now that his hands had found mine. I was so close; I was getting dizzy with the smell of tobacco and sandalwood and just plain soap. I couldn't help myself as I shifted a little closer; our eyes never leaving each other.

"…4…3…"

Tomorrow, I would hate myself. Tomorrow, I would deal with it. But at the moment, I just didn't care as his hand slipped up to my neck and I tilted my chin upward.

"…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEARS!" Inside there was cheering and shouting but it definitely went on the back burner for me.

I was so absorbed that I didn't even hear the backdoor creak open, then there was a sudden flash of light and Emma's cackle.

I whipped my head around to see Emma standing in the doorway, camera in hand, an evil smile on her lips. "Well, that is a keeper!"

so, what do you guys think????