Page 9 of Amy's Santa

“Just like all good women should.” Peg joins us, a subtle dig that despite trying for a son, Wraith ended up with four girls. “You running along to join them, Marcia?”

Drum and I bark joint laughs at the look on my woman’s face.

Marc just winks at him. “Still can beat you on my rat bike, Peg. Don’t go forgetting that when you want to prove who’s got the bigger balls.”

Now I’m chortling at Peg’s expression. He’s always hated anything that wasn’t a Harley, but nowadays has to bite his tongue a lot more. Most of us have moved onto electric models and even mine’s a foreign-made bike.

“Hey, men are wanted.” I point out to the others. Joker and Lady, Rock, and Bullet have rolled up their shirt sleeves and are moving furniture around. It looks like they could do with some help.

As Marc does indeed disappear in the direction of the kitchen, I step up and stand by a table. “Where do you want this, Sam?”

As Drummer’s old lady organises tables being pulled together to try and fit everyone in sitting down, a marathon task of organisation if there ever was one, the men all step in to help lift and move while Sam sorts the logistics out. It’s going to be a big affair tonight, everyone is here for Christmas, brothers, old ladies and all the children.

Amy and Xander appear when we’re still in the midst of making some sort of order out of the confusion, and despite my misgivings I’m impressed when Xander immediately too sees what needs doing and starts to pitch in without being asked.

Having done my part, I raise my chin at Drummer and take a moment to have Amy by myself.

“Let’s sit down for a minute.” I lead her to a couch. “Seems ages since we’ve chewed the fat. How’s life in Phoenix? Everything okay, sweetheart?”

I sit, but Amy doesn’t. “Yeah, Dad. Peachy. Look, I better go help, I’m sure Sophie could do with extra hands in the kitchen…”

“With her own four daughters and everyone else, sweetie, there won’t be any room in there. Come and talk to your old dad for a moment. It’s been months since you’ve been home.”

At last she does. “You’re not old, you’re only fifty.”

I shrug off her observation. There’s something in the way she wants to evade a conversation that’s making me worried, and I want to get to the bottom of what it is. “Now, how’s work going? Your apartment okay? You’re not having any more trouble with your landlord?” It had taken ages for her to get some broken plumbing sorted, not so long after I’d had a word. “Has Xander moved in with you, or are you going to move in with him? Or getting somewhere new together?”

“Dad,” her eyes roll, “it’s early days as yet with Xander.”

But she must be serious about him. “You’ve never brought a boyfriend home for Christmas before.”

“He had nowhere else to go, I couldn’t leave him alone.”

But her eyes shift sideways in a—I’m not telling the whole truth—tell. I decide to leave that alone, for now, anyway. Especially when she goes on the offensive.

“You don’t have a problem with him, do you, Dad?”

Not pretending to misunderstand her, I cringe at her accusing words, throwing back, “Fuck no. Red, brown, yellow, or fucking purple as long as he treats you right, sweetie. And does he?”

Now there’s no looking away. “He does, Dad.”

Perhaps their relationship is more significant than she’s admitting, and that’s the reason she’s brought him here. To get my blessing? Is she nervous I won’t approve? Well, let’s see what the next couple of days hold. Apart from that lack of sparkle in her eyes, he’s ticked every box so far. I hadn’t missed how gentlemanly he’s been to her.

I watch closely, carefully, as the evening continues. Tables set up, buffet style food is brought out. Tomorrow will be our Christmas dinner when we’ll eat far too much and probably suffer for it after, so tonight it’s tasty but fairly light.

With the whole MC family here, conversation doesn’t falter, and the evening becomes raucous as everyone jokes and laughs. I notice Amy start to relax more as her head bows closer, and she giggles at something Maya’s telling her.

Joker puts down a slice of pizza he was just about to bite into. “If you’re telling her…” he starts warningly.

Lady puts his hand on his husband’s arm. “Hey, your fault for leaving my Christmas present where she could find it.”

Of course there’s a lull in the conversation at that point. “What the fuck was it, Maya? Don’t keep it to yourself,” barks Marvel.

“A pack…” she starts, then breaks off seeing her two fathers’ eyes narrowed at her. She collapses in laughter.

Amy, showing a spirit that she hasn’t up to now, giggles loudly. Maya’s probably already told her.

Maya tries again, “A pack, a pack of assorted flavoured lubes.”

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