Page 5 of A More Than Mayhem Christmas

I nod, because it’s the one thing I feel sure of. Kayla has been by my side through all my ups and downs. From my college days to the draft, to the injuries, to the trades, and moving to three different states before finally finding my place in St. Louis. That was two years ago and a little later than I wanted for my career, but it is what it is.

Kayla had always found her footing, so to speak, getting to know my teammates and their partners and doing her best to make sure the transition was as easy for me as possible. Because of her, the only thing I’ve had to worry about is baseball. But… St. Louis has been different. She doesn’t go to every home game like she used to, and the ones she does attend, she doesn’t sit with the rest of the wives and girlfriends in a suite. Instead, she chooses to sit alone with the rest of the spectators. She attends only the official social events with me, but picks and chooses anything else. The worst part is that for the past few months, I’ve come home to an empty house half the time. We’ve lived together since we were eighteen. To say that it’s an adjustment is an understatement. The only reason she’s given me is that “it doesn’t feel likehome.”

I’ve told her to find a different house.

She said that the house doesn’t make a home.

So, instead, she flies here a few times a month and stays in the garage apartment. My parents say that they have an openinvite to dinner when she’s here, but she declines. They don’t see her often, not even coming or going. Our friends tell me the same. She holes up in the apartment, alone, and no one can seem to crack the wall she builds around herself whenever she’s here.

I don’t know how to fix it, and even if I did, I don’t even know what’s broken.

“I’m going to get in the shower,” she says, breaking through my thoughts. She’s up and walking away before I even fully comprehend what she’s said.

I wait a few minutes after hearing the shower switch on to go into the bathroom and lean against the counter, my arms crossed, head bowed. I don’t say a word, and even though I know she sees me, she doesn’t speak either. Not until she’s out of the shower with a towel wrapped around her. “God, I feel so much better.”

I peer up at her, my eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

Nodding, she steps up to me, replying, “I think that’s exactly what I needed.” She kisses me once, twice, and I find myself smiling, even if it’s wrong. “I’m so sorry,” she adds, and I hold her to me, too afraid to let her go.

“Don’t be sorry.”

She shakes her head. “And I should apologize to your parents, too. I hope I didn’t ruin their Christmas with my shitty mood.”

“You didn’t,” I assure. “You know they love you, right?”

“I know. And I love them, too. So much. Which only makes things a thousand times worse…”

I hold her closer. Tighter. “Is there anything I can do?”

Her body falls into mine, as if every muscle unfurled instantaneously. “Trust me. You’re doing it.”

“Yeah?”

Her head tilts back, her eyes meeting mine. “You have no idea how much.”

I lower my mouth to hers, basking in the way she wraps herself around me. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she says, kissing me once. Twice.Threetimes. Then she repeats, almostchants, “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

I chuckle against her lips, realizing, once again, that the world is full of invisible threes… and as the engagement ring burns a proverbial hole in my pocket, I can’t help but hope, wish,pray…

Maybe third time’s a charm…

3

Dylan

The best thing about being an uncle is that you get to have all the fun without any of the responsibility. Take now, for example. I’m currently handing my four-year-old nephew two paper plates of whipped cream while we wait for his dad, my brother Eric, to return from the bathroom. Tanner, my nephew, hides under the table while Riley rolls her eyes at my shenanigans. Opposite me, Sydney, Eric’s wife, covers her smile behind a Christmas-themed paper napkin.

We’re currently sitting around a long table in my mother-in-law’s yard, but I have a full view of the back door of my dad’s house since the fence between Riley’s mom’s house and my dad’s—where Eric and his family live—no longer exists. It got to where it was falling to pieces, and after a morning spent taking it down, neither of them wanted to replace it. Now they have twice the yard and access to each other whenever they want.

Holly, my mother-in-law, has been hosting Christmas dinner since Riley and I got married, and when I say she goes all out, I mean it. She sets up a marquee tent with heaters to keepus warm and enough decorations to open her own store. Riley once told me that if her mom hadn’t gotten into the hair styling business, she likely would have been an event organizer. Which, honestly, made me feel kind of shitty for the way we handled our wedding, but hey, at least she got to help with Eric and Sydney’s big day.

“He’s coming,” I whisper to Tanner, who’s sitting silently under the table. The rest of us remain quiet as Eric makes his way over, and I grip the ropes hidden beneath the table nice and tight.

He looks around, then asks, “Where’s Tanner?”

I wait a moment for Eric to get comfortable in his seat, then I yank hard on the rope, connected to the back legs of his chair, and don’t bother stifling my chuckle as the chair tips. Eric falls backward, his hands going out in front of him, grasping nothing but air.

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