Chapter 6: I'll Be Home for Christmas

I didn't know who had tried to kill me, and to be quite honest, I didn't particularly care at the moment. There were too many other things to think about, like our family being in town and worried to their own graves, and Christmas and the kids and all the stuff that came with trying to be a good hostess and mother and wife without concerning myself with a car accident on top of it.

I was fine, more than fine, I was great by the time they let me out of the hospital the next afternoon. Mort, as usual, wasn't sure I was ready to leave and begged me to have more tests done, but a roll of my eyes and a doctor's good word solved that quick. I wasn't about to be pinned to that cold, sterilized bed on Christmas Eve, not when there were a million things to do at home. Although, I guess I didn't figure into the equation of my situation that I wouldn't be allowed to do much of anything once I got back there.

We weren't even halfway up the driveway before a storm of people came rushing out of the house and into the snow, arms wide and tears on their faces. Mort's mother and my parents had come to the hospital the night before to see me when they finally got word of what had happened, and while my dad had pummeled through doctors and surrounding cops on the case for answers, my mother and Mort's somehow strangely came to agree that all that was important was my being okay. From Mort's mother I expected no less, but from my own, I was shocked.

And when I saw her coming out of the house, toward the parked car with arms open and swarming me, I didn't know what to make of it all. She hadn't even come to the hospital to see me when we were nearly killed in St. Thomas five years before, and now, from out of nowhere, she wanted to be my guardian angel; she wanted to be my mother for once.

"Roxanne, I'm so glad they let you out of that place. It would have been awful for you to be stuck in there on Christmas Eve, sweetheart."

Sweetheart, sympathy, is this a joke? April fools isn't for another four months.

She stroked my hair and helped me down from the Explorer, clinging to my arm as the rest of the family came in to hug me, kiss me and cry for me one by one. Even Mort's Olympic sized brother left tears on my sweater when he came to me with Max in one strong arm and Madeline in the other. But then again, my tough exterior melted when I saw them too.

"Mommy! You're back!"

Maddie flew from her uncle's arms and latched onto my neck, and I hugged her tiny body just as hard. One day and one night away from them and the potential risk of it all couldn't stop me from crying desperately and pleadingly all the same. Max reached out and somehow, even in my half medicated, weakened state, I managed to hold him just as strongly.

I didn't leave that spot in the driveway for what felt like years. I stood there in the drifting snow, squeezing them until they laughed past their fear and until I felt Mort come in and wrap his arms around all of us, completely. He kissed the top of each of their unruly heads and then leaned between them to capture my lips. And because my tears had subsided minutes before and dried with the cold, I knew it was his tears I was feeling on my cheeks, and that was enough to kill me.

Mort was tough, he didn't cry unless there was an absolute need to reveal himself to anyone. And I guess he felt the need, which only made me happier.

"Alright minions," he chanted as he snagged Max in his arms to relieve me, "Let's go get Christmas Eve baths for Mommy!"

I laughed and hobbled inside behind him with Maddie. Max argued against the bath but eventually gave in when Mort threatened him with no presents. And because he refused to let me do the hard work of giving the baths or dressing them, I was left to do nothing but sit and brush wet hair when he was done.

"I can do this stuff you know, I'm not a paraplegic."

He laughed as he tried to pull Max's little head through his holiday sweater vest.

"Just take it easy for a few days, that's all I'm asking. You can't be superwoman all the time."

I rolled my eyes, something he was more than used to and snapped a few red sparkly clips into Maddie's hair, whispering under my breath, "Wanna bet."

Whether he heard me or not didn't matter much. We finished with the kids and then went upstairs to get cleaned ourselves, but our disagreement didn't quite end. He insisted I relax in the tub and let him bathe me, and while the offer would have been tempting under romantic circumstances, his shattered faith in my ability to help myself was just annoying.

"I can do it, Mort." I pushed his hands away from the buttons on a shirt of his that I was wearing. "Just stop, this is ridiculous. I told you I'm fine."

He sighed and crossed his arms as he watched me get undressed in the bathroom.

"Why won't you let me be a concerned husband for once? I mean come on Rox, you were just in an accident that totaled the car. Someone out there tried to hurt you, tried to kill you."

"So what? I was a companion to the mafia at one point too. You should be more than used to the risks that come with me by now."

"What are you saying? You don't think it was--"

I growled to cut him off and slipped through the shower door. He followed me though and watched as I turned the water on angrily.

"Baby, I know what I promised in the hospital but I'm not willing to let it go."

I ignored him and undid the bandage around my ribs. He kept talking but slid into the shower with his clothes on, getting wet from the mist to stop my rigid hands and use his gentler ones to finish taking it off.

"I want to know that we're safe here and that this isn't going to end up like it did last time. We can't let it get that far this time, you know that. It's not just us in the middle anymore."

"Yeah…" I breathed shallowly and leaned against the cool tile wall looking up at him, "I know."

"I'm not going to rest until I know what the hell happened out there."

"Yeah." I moved my face under the water and relaxed into its warmth. "I know that too."

Mort's hands reached my skin a second later and he stroked lightly over my scrapes and bruised stomach. I could tell by the way he touched me that he was scared, more than me and only half as good as I was at hiding it. I wanted to give in and help lead his warpath to solve the mystery of my stalker and near murderer, but I had too much else to worry about.

He began pulling his clothes off slowly and I watched through the steam and water. For all of his determination to be Nancy Drew, he was still the most charming thing I'd ever seen before, the most beautiful. I didn't know who tried to take me from him, but whoever they were, they hadn't won just yet. He was still mine and he was still ready to fight for me too.

A moment later he was inside of the shower, his bare skin holding mine to the stone tile wall, his hands pinning mine up and his lips covering every inch of my mouth and jaw. His kisses were like vicodin, or better yet, like oxygen. I hadn't breathed so easily in twenty-four hours, not until he had me there like that. It might have been snowing and fifteen degrees outside of the bathroom window, but inside, where his solid manhood pressed into my longing body, it was a hundred degrees and rising quick.

I ran my hands through his messy tangle of wet hair as he lifted me carefully to wrap one of my legs around his waist. I couldn't feel the pain in my ribs anymore. Sure I knew it was there, but it was nothing in comparison to how he felt pushing towards me, his teeth nipping at the skin of my neck and his hands slowly sliding down to the core of my aching form.

"God, I love you so much." He whispered against my trembling lips.

I smiled and kissed him quick. "I bet I love you more."

His cock rocked at my center as his fingers massaged it, one or the other ready to drive within.

"No way." He teased. "I get to love you plus one." His hand rubbed my bruised stomach smoothly as the tip of his shaft came nearer to entrance. "I definitely win."

And at that, when I wasn't half expecting it from his hand through my hair and his lips on my mouth, he broke down the only barrier left between us and held me tight as the waves of throbbing turned to ones of complete rapture.


We eventually made it down to the family and dinner. Eventually.

Mort's mom had refused earlier to let me do a single stitch of leg work in the kitchen and so by the time we came downstairs to the dining room, the table was spread with candles, my grandmother's good china splayed with the most delicious smells and foods, and all of it without my doing. It actually felt nice to not be the live in, personal chef for once.

I smiled curiously when she came to me with a glass of wine.

Mort tried to lift it away from me, but his mother slapped his hand.

"Stop that. It's perfectly good for her. I read an article about it in the New York Times today."

He rolled his eyes and mumbled something about 'crossword murdering bastards' as he walked away. I knew how he hated the Times and laughed as his mom brushed my damp hair back.

"They said a glass of wine every week is healthy for the baby. It reduces the risk of all kinds of mental disorders."

My eyes gaped with surprise and I took a sip of the red liquid. I have to admit, it tasted good after going three weeks without any. His mom threw a towel over her shoulder in a way that reminded me so much of my grandmother, and leaned in to whisper, "Maybe it will reduce that poor baby's risk of becoming a worry wart like it's father."

I laughed and when she headed back to the stove. I stood with her in the kitchen, watching as she stirred through a pot of gravy and finished with the last of the details to the meal. I wasn't expecting it at all, but after a few minutes my mother came into the kitchen and stood smiling beside me at the countertop. She rubbed my back and brushed through my hair and I can't tell you how much it scared me. Mort looked at me oddly all the way across the living room and grinned almost knowingly for a second, then turned away laughing with Max in his arms.

My focus returned to my mother's voice.

"Honey, I'm so happy you're alright after yesterday. I don't know what I would do if something ever happened to you."

I twisted my brow at her as she caught herself.

"Of course I know worse things did happen a few years ago, and I suppose I was very terrible to you then. I was very condescending of your relationship and your choice."

"Yeah." I stated flatly as I looked from Mort's mom to mine. "You were."

She nodded with her face turned down low. "And I'm sorry for that, sweetie. I am. It's just…"

"What?"

"I always imagined you marrying someone closer to the circle your father and I are surrounded by. Not a writer."

Mort's mom smiled a little when her ears perked up. My mom defended her words though.

"Oh, Jane I apologize for that. I didn't mean it so harshly."

"It's perfectly fine, Annie. I think if I had a daughter I would feel the same way."

"But of course, Morton is a gentleman and a good father. I misjudged him all along, Roxanne."

I just looked at her, not sure where all of this was suddenly coming from.

"I guess what I'm trying to say honey, is that even though your father gives you a hard time about finances and your lifestyle, we are very happy that you're happy here with your family, this way."

"You are?"

"Yes."

"And what? There's got to be more."

She shook her head.

"Really? That's it?"

"I love you, Roxanne. Yesterday made me realize how wrong I've been for so many years. I've never seen a man run so fast in my entire life."

"Mort?" I questioned with a wild grin and a tear as I looked past her shoulder at him in the living room again.

"I can see now why you wanted him, why you chose him. He really cares about you so much."

Mort glanced from Maddie's chocolate covered face to wink at me with that half smile of his.

"I'm surprised you don't have to fight the women in this town off tooth and nail."

I laughed for the first time with mother in what must have been a decade. Looking down at her smaller form again I wasted no time in wrapping my arms around her and holding her as tight as I could. I didn't know why, but it felt too good to let go once I started. She felt like Gram and Grandpa, and all the memories of my strange but somehow good childhood. I knew she was holding me tighter than she'd probably ever imagined doing again and that felt equally as nice. I could smell her Chanel no.5 and the dry cleaning starch of her clothes and smiled before pulling back.

She rubbed my cheek softly and my stomach at the same time.

"I am excited about this new baby as well, you know."

"Me too."

"I never thought I'd see the day."

With a soft laugh she kissed me once on the cheek before Jane called for dinner and we parted. She followed my father to one end of the table and Mort snuck into the kitchen behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and biting my neck.

"Good talk?" He whispered in my hair.

I nodded with a wide smile and tilted my face back to his.

"Finally."

We sat down to dinner, all fourteen of us, and enjoyed every single joke and story and memory that was told to each other. We laughed for hours, finished off six bottles of wine (without much of my help), shared anecdotes about the kids, and reveled in the fact that we had finally, after all this time, on this perfect miracle evening, come together as one.

After dinner, I threatened Jane into letting me help her, Sydney and Kate with the dishes while Mort, Sam and Robert took all the kids into the living room and played Christmas songs on their guitars for them. It was something that I hadn't known he could do, play the guitar, until we were already married. It was one of the things that he had to hide when he became Mort Rainey, but now, because he had brought Ben Miller back from the dead too, he was able to swing a pretty wicked tune on that old acoustic Gibson.

My parents and Mort's dad worked on bringing down all of the 'hidden' presents, which obviously caused a commotion until we had finished cleaning up and joined them. We sat together, all of us crammed onto the sofas and chairs in front of the fireplace and huge tree, singing songs and watching the kids rip through some of their presents. And for once, I felt like I was officially home; I felt like this could be it, the tradition that most families dream of finding. My parents were happy and sympathetic to my life, my sister and her workaholic husband had managed to find each other again over the course of the week, Mort's parents were as spectacularly perfect as ever before and our kids and Sydney's were healthy and well. Things were good, so good in fact, that none of us expected the news that came out of nowhere a few hours into the mix of holiday excitement.

Sam stood up with his hand resting gently on Kate's shoulder, looked to all of us and proclaimed as proudly as I'd ever known Big Sam to be, "Mom, Dad, nerdy, pain in the ass I call a brother…" Mort sneered and I squeezed his cheeks, "…Kate and I found out yesterday…"

Jane was on the edge of the couch nearly spilling her wine when he finally voiced the words she'd been waiting too long to hear.

"…we're having a baby!"

She jumped up with small splashes of wine hitting the rug and threw her arms around Sam's broad form.

"I knew it! I saw it the whole time!"

Mort groaned at the red droplets he knew he'd end up having to scrub later but I wrapped my arms around him to hush his irritation and kissed the scowl off his face. Sam and Kate took turns kissing and hugging everyone in the room over the exciting news, and I helped Jane ease herself into steady breathing again from her insistent giggling and crying.

"This is so perfect…" she replied happily, touching my cheek and then Kate's at her other side "…two babies growing at the same time. Now all I need is to hear that, Roxanne, your gorgeous sister over there is having one too. That would do me in."

I saw my mother's eyes widen at the remark but I looked over to Sydney myself. She smiled for a moment before standing up closer to me and Mort.

"Actually Jane," I could feel my heart stop, "Mom, Dad, Rox…"

"Oh no. You've got to be joking." I breathed deep and squeezed hard on Mort's leg, probably enough to make it go numb. But he laughed and held my hand tight.

"Would I joke about being pregnant too."

I felt the tears come to my eyes this time, not half expecting Kate and Sam's news, let alone the news that my older sister was having her third child after eight years. I flew from the couch, wincing at the pain in my ribs the whole time, and threw my arms around her, nearly taking her into the tree with me.

"Oh my god, this is so great. They're going to grow up together."

"I know, I know." She chanted back in my ear, the both of us too caught up to realize all of the other hugging and laughing and congratulations going about the room.

We pulled back and touched each other's stomachs with a teary eyed giggle and then pulled Kate into the mix. Mort and Sam went back to playing guitar and feeding the kids with as many presents as they wanted to rip open, while the three of us joined Jane and my mother to gab about everything babies. And of course, the already well worn grandfather's fell into their chairs and slept the rest of the night away.

After a while though, ritual set into place like it always had in any decent childhood, (whether Mort and I were the poster children or not), and we all started to say goodnight and put the kids to bed. Without a hitch, Max and Madeline refused to sleep in their rooms, since they insisted that Santa was going to land near our bedroom because it was closest North. Frankly I didn't know how they knew so much at their age, but I granted them brilliance with a solid argument and we took them to bed with us. For an hour, Mort and I stayed awake just to get them to fall asleep. They had zero no tolerance for closing their eyes on this night, and the battle was only finally won after I had read Rudolph three times.

The funny part being, that I had put Mort to sleep with it too. I tucked the kids into the middle of the bed between us and then slid across the cold floor to his side, took off his glasses, brushed his hair out of his eyes and just stared at him for a long time. There was something so peaceful about seeing him like that, out of control for once, unable to worry or concern his mind with the world that threatened us, and it made me the happiest.

I'm not sure when I caved in and fell into bed beside my little family, but I guess I must have eventually, because the next thing I knew, something loud was waking me back up to darkness. Madeline was tight in my arms but her eyes were slowly prying open with mine, hers brighter with excitement though.

"Santa! It's Santa!"

I thrust my body up completely, trying to squint out of the balcony doors to see where the noise was coming from. Not from our bedroom porch, but it was getting louder, like boots or hammers inside of the house, not outside at all.

"He's here!"

Maddie screamed again and I covered her mouth instinctively, leaning across the bed to shake Mort awake. I swear, he could sleep through an apocalypse.

"Mort…Mort!"

He stirred awake slowly, pushing the mess of his hair away and wiping his drool to look up at me through blurred vision.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

I didn't have to say anything. The noise came again, much louder and getting closer to us. He shot awake completely, moving out of the bed and shoving his glasses on.

"What the fuck was that?" He whispered as he poked his head through the windows. Max woke up to the continuing sound too and shouted out.

"It's Santa, daddy! He came for his cookies!"

I covered Max's mouth and pulled him into my arms with Maddie. Mort flew toward my side of the bed, taking my face in his hands with his eyes on fire.

"Stay here. Don't move."

And before I could protest, he was gone through the door.