The Christmas Wedding Swap. Allyson Charles
to her parents’ front porch. She tucked the OJ into her chest, pushed the door open, and stepped into a chaos only two little girls could create.
Her mother looked up from her position on the main staircase, her lips pinched. “Allison, thank God you’re here. I need help.”
A cherub with black curls raced up to Allison, hugging her leg like a boa constrictor. “Auntie Allie! Lookie what Molly did. She ruined Gamma’s dec’rations.”
“I can see that.” Allison lurched to the entry way table, lugging the four-year-old along for the ride. She placed her breakfast casserole and juice down. Prying the little fingers off her leg, she swung her niece onto her hip and hurried to her mother, who was standing guard over six-year-old Molly, a larger version of her little sister, Karen. “What have you gotten up to now, Pooh Bear?”
A tiny tush wiggled at her from the bannister, ropes of fresh pine garland snaking around her small body, pinning her to the handrail.
“What she’s gotten up to,” Allison’s mother said, one hand firmly clasped on Molly’s back while she tugged at the greenery with the other, “is she tried to slide down my bannister and somehow this happened.”
Allison bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. Her oldest niece had an unerring talent for getting stuck in the unlikeliest of places. Last Christmas they had found her rear end sticking out of a cast-iron wood-burning stove. She had seen the chimney in her grandparents’ living room and wanted to see if there was enough room for Santa to slide down.
Placing Karen down on the step, Allison stepped forward to help extricate the troublemaker. “Where are Camilla and John? Shouldn’t they be helping to free their daughter?”
“Camilla’s in the kitchen.” Her mother tugged at a branch. “And John is with your father in the family room watching the game. I told Karen to go get her mother, but…” They watched as the little girl crawled around on her knees, barking madly at her reflection in the full-sized entry mirror.
Allison shook her head. “Got it.” While she stretched out the garland, her mother tugged Molly free. Her niece lifted up her shirt and looked at the red marks on her belly. “The plant scratched me.”
“Well, don’t slide into it then,” her mother said, the steady tapping of the toe of her two-inch pump punctuating each word.
Allison recognized the steely-eyed squint her mother was giving Molly and grabbed the girl’s hand. She tugged her down the stairs. “We’ll just be in the kitchen. Why don’t you watch some football, and we’ll call you when brunch is ready?” She plopped the OJ into her niece’s arms and picked up the casserole as if it was a serving tray. With one arm, she herded Molly out of the danger zone. “Let’s go, Karen. You come, too.” Karen slid on her knees behind them.
Allison’s sister, Camilla, sat at the bar in the kitchen, a mug of coffee in front of her as she flipped through a magazine. “Hi, Allison.” She cocked her head and looked at her daughters. Molly tucked her head into Allison’s stomach. “What have you girls been up to? I can always tell when you’re in trouble.” And she could. Something had happened when Camilla had given birth to Molly, turning her sister from oblivious into a trouble detector, at least where her children were concerned. The transformation had been astonishing, and Allison wondered if she’d get the same superpower when she had kids.
If she had kids.
“Pooh Bear just got a little tangled in Grandma’s garland on the stairs.” Allison ruffled Molly’s hair. “No biggie.”
“Uh-huh.” Camilla didn’t look convinced. “And how did you just happen to get tangled in it, Molly? You weren’t by any chance sliding down the bannister after I told you not to?”
Molly burrowed her way against Allison, trying to hide from her mother’s view. Allison shook her head. Her niece was busted. After a squeeze to the shoulder, she untangled the girl from her midsection and walked to the oven. It was already at the right temperature, so she slid in her casserole to heat and joined her sister at the counter.
“How’s work?” Allison asked. “That client still giving you trouble?” Her sister and husband, both attorneys, worked at the same boutique law firm in downtown Clarion Township. On track to make partner, happily married and mother of two, Camilla was the daughter her parents loved to brag about. And living in the same town gave the doting grandparents a lot of access to the little ones.
Camilla rolled her eyes. “I wish I could tell you just what a jerk this guy is, but that would violate confidentiality. There might be a benefit to your still being single. You don’t have to worry about divorce.”
Allison’s heart pinched beneath her breastbone. Bending down, Allison plucked Karen off the ground and settled her over her knees. Allison bounced her legs the way she knew the little girl liked. Her niece neighed, bucking wildly. Allison smiled, wishing she could just take the girls out to brunch. There would be no constant reminder that she was still single, no hurtful remarks. She knew her family didn’t mean their comments as judgment, that they only wanted her to be happy. But knowing that didn’t make it easier to take.
“Sam couldn’t make it?” Allison asked. Samantha Young, her baby sister, lived in Ann Arbor with her husband of two years. Three months into her residency, Sam was extremely busy as a new doctor, and her entire family couldn’t be prouder.
“Patrick had some function with the football team he couldn’t get out of. I think Sam went with him.” Camille shook her head. “For the president of such a small college, they sure keep him running around. But Sam did say she had something to tell us. I’ll bet she got that job with the children’s hospital.”
Karen slapped her thigh and bounced up and down—hard.
Allison grimaced. “You’re getting too big for me to play horsey with. Maybe it’s time you got a real pony.” She tucked a curl behind the girl’s ear.
Eyes huge, Karen wiggled down and ran to her mother. “Can I get a pony, Mommy? Pleeeease.”
Allison smiled. Her niece was just so damn cute.
The look her sister fired at her was the opposite of cute. “That is something your father and I will have to decide, but right now, you’re too little. We can talk about it again in a couple years.”
The oven timer dinged, and like the firing of a starter’s pistol at the beginning of a race, everyone came running. Allison’s father dropped a kiss on her head. “Hi, sweetie,” he said, before grabbing a basket of rolls and muffins and heading for the dining room table. Her brother-in-law greeted her and started gathering up glasses and the orange juice. Her mother and her sister removed pans from the oven, and soon they were all seated at a table laden with more food than seven people could possibly eat.
“Allison, we have news,” her mother said, scooping a pile of eggs onto Karen’s plate.
“We?” Allison asked at the same time her father said, “What news?”
“Your sister and me.” Checking to make sure everyone had something on their plate, her mother ran a hand through her silver page boy. Realizing his wife’s conversation didn’t involve him, her father lowered his head and started shoveling food into his mouth.
Picking a piece of bacon off the floor, Camilla blew on it and replaced it on Molly’s plate. “Mom asked if I knew any single men, and you have a date this Tuesday night.”
“What?” Allison shot her sister an indignant glare. “You can’t set me up without telling me. And that was gross, serving food that fell on the floor.” She didn’t know which side of her was more irritated: her single woman or her restaurant owner. She was used to her mother and sisters trying to set her up, but to actually commit her to a date without her consent was a step too far.
Her sister shrugged. “Five-second rule. And besides, Richard is a great guy. He’s an investment advisor, works in the office next to ours, and he always tips the barista at our local Starbucks very well.”