Page 167 of My Merry Mistake
And while those stories are tinged with sadness, they are alsofullof joy, making it feel like a gift to everyone.
One thing is certain—Finn’s family lives out loud. In living color.
They don’t hold back in their love for each other, the ranch, or simply for being alive. And as I sit and watch them, I think about how many years I’ve held myself back from everything and everyone.
Even my own sisters.
I’ve kept a part of myself from them because I thought I needed to live up to certain expectations I’d placed on myself.
I don’t want to do that anymore.
Finn’s sisters, Rowena and Hattie, want to know what I see in their goofy brother, and I have to stop myself from gushing. Now that the revelation has come, I keep thinking of more things I love about him.
His brothers argue with about ninety percent of what I say, claiming that “I don’t know him like they know him,” and that he “cries at movies” and “farts in his sleep.”
Finn gently tells me to “wait one second” and launches himself, tackling Boone.
I can’t wait for my family to meet this family.
Eventually, his parents tuck their granddaughters into bed with promises of Santa Claus and reindeer and gifts and magic, but the rest of us stay huddled under blankets and coats, warming our hands by the fire until we’re all too cold to stay outside any longer.
It’s a Holbrook Christmas tradition for everyone to sleep at the ranch, so they drag mattresses out into the living room to sleep under the lights of the tree, which might’ve been awkward for me once upon a time, but not anymore. This family has brought me in like I’m one of them, and it’s actually fun. With a capital F. All of it. I can’t even try to pretend it isn’t.
The brothers and Finn argue about which Christmas movie they should watch—and which one’s the best—until they all turn to me for my opinion.
Without pausing, I tell them that it’sA Christmas Story, with little Ralphie and his Red Ryder BB gun, because that’s the one my sisters and I would watch every Christmas growing up. They all agree, rent the movie, and just as Ralphie is getting pushed down the slide, I tell Finn I couldn’t remember when I’d ever had a better Christmas Eve, then quietly drift off to sleep.
Now, it’s Christmas morning, and I wake to the smell of toothpaste and Finn. He kisses my cheek and whispers, “Good morning.”
When I open my eyes, he smiles. “Get up. I want to show you something cool.”
I cover my face with my hands, embarrassed that when I agreed to sleep on the couch surrounded by Holbrooks, I didn’t think through the morning bedhead and bad breath.
“You have to hurry,” he whispers.
“Okay, but if I’m going anywhere with you, I’m brushing my teeth first,” I say, inching my way off the couch.
I see him grin, lit only by the light of the Christmas tree. “Definitelybrush your teeth.”
“Ew, Finn, you’re gross,” one of his sisters says.
We both laugh, and I rush into the guest bathroom where I got ready for bed, brush my teeth, then find him in the kitchen, wearing his coat and boots, holding my coat, along with two stocking caps and mittens.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yeah, I do.” I pull the coat on, shove my feet into my boots, then follow him outside and get in a pickup truck idling in the driveway.
It’s warm in the cab of the truck, and before we go anywhere, he stops and looks at me. “Morning.”
I smile. “Good morning, you weirdo. What are we doing out here before dawn?”
“I want to show you something cool.” He leans over and kisses me. “You’re pretty in the morning.”
I bite back a smile. “I look like roadkill, but thank you.”
He hands me a big, fuzzy blanket, and I move closer to him, spreading it over both of our laps. I loop a hand through his and savor the quiet, easy way it feels to be his.
