Page 76 of Love It or List It
“Oh, Joe, it looks wonderful.You’ve done such great work on the place.And the decorations are lovely.”
Joe gave a little smile and admitted, “Most of them came with the house.Also, the kids helped a lot.Gavin and Will were responsible for the mistletoe.”He nodded down the hall.Bunches of fake mistletoe hung over every conceivable doorway and a few non-doorways.“It seems DeeDee was a fan.”
His mom chuckled.“Somehow, that seems apt for the woman.”
Joe bit his tongue on agreeing that mistletoe was the low-key version of leaving a house to two queer single men.Instead, he smiled and said, “Yeah.It fits.”
This last was said as they walked into view of the tree, and Gavin, sensing a conversation to snoop on, turned and asked, “What fits?”
“DeeDee’s love of mistletoe is in character.”
Gavin’s eyes lit up.“Isn’t it great?Of course, participating in mistletoe kissing is totally voluntary.We don’t want anyone feeling uncomfortable.”
God, Joe loved his kids.
“I’m sure she’s not planning on kissing anyone she doesn’t want to, dumbass,” Alex said, but couldn’t hide the fondness in their voice or gaze.
“Hey, peer pressure is real.Everyone should know that the mistletoe is just for fun and not a requirement.”
The next few hours were chaos of the best kind.
Drinks and appetizers were worked through while Joe finished dinner prep, and then they all sat around the brand-new table to plow their way through the various dishes.
When Joe placed the plate of sliced turkey in front of Austin, he gazed up at Joe with hearts in his eyes and eagerly reached for it.Totally worth the effort, Joe thought—even later, when the turkey clearly failed the popularity contest next to the lasagna and Austin admitted that he didn’t really like it, even smothered in gravy.
“It’s just so dry,” he muttered softly to Joe with apologetic eyes.
Joe didn’t take offense.“Turkey is the worst bird.”
Meg arrived as they were finishing dinner, and everyone gathered in the living room to distribute presents.
Wrapping paper littered the room by the time Alex pulled the final package from under the tree and handed it to Joe.“For you and Austin.”
Joe lifted an eyebrow, wondering what on earth the kids thought they should share as a present, but he didn’t ask.Asking might get answers too close to the truth or questions he wasn’t ready to answer.So he opened the bag and pulled out four hand-painted ornaments.Each live-edge wooden disk had a portrait of one of the animals on one side.On the back, each had a similar inscription—First Christmas 2025.
Joe was not going to cry over this.He was not.
“Will found this local artist who does them for pets and babies,” Gavin explained, all eager puppy.“So we sent them pictures and they made them up.”
Walker’s portrait showed him sitting on a flannel-clad shoulder—it must’ve come from a picture Austin had sent the kids.Pepa’s featured her prosthetic.Joe ran his thumb over each picture and then handed them to Austin to admire.
It wasn’t a perfect night.Joe’s mom committed a party foul by dropping a full glass of generously spiked eggnog on the dining room floor; at least Austin had insisted on plastic cups, for cleanup’s sake, so there was no glass to sweep up, just a rag to run over it.The bathroom doorknob had fallen off again, so Austin had stuffed one of Pepa’s tug toys into the gap, and if someone wanted privacy they had to hold the rope while they used the toilet.Austin regaled everyone with the months-old story of Joe’s heroic bathroom rescue, including the anticlimax where Austin saved himself, and Joe’s mom cackled and threatened to tell Joe’s uncles, who all worked in construction, that he’d forgotten how doorknobs worked.
“Wait, didn’t you actually work for them a couple summers?”Gavin asked.Joe could still take his Christmas present back.
“Oh, shit, you did.I remember that,” Meg put in.“You kept showing up to swimming lessons with black thumbs.”
Austin’s eyes lit up.“Are you telling me that you work with chainsaws every day but you can’t swing a hammer?”
“Youliterallywatched me frame the floor in the kitchen—”
Will, like a little sleeper agent, piped up from somewhere behind a mountain of wrapping paper.“I showed him how to use a hammer.”
“Betrayer,” Joe gasped theatrically.“That was supposed to be our secret.”
“This is excellent, actually,” Joe’s mother said under her breath to Starling, who was squashed in at her elbow.“Getting to tell my brothers a ten-year-old taught my adult son something they didn’t?Blackmail material for life.”
“I think that story deserves dessert.”Austin stood and went toward the kitchen.“Nobody get up, it’s crazy in there.I’ll bring it out.”
