Page 22 of Reindeer in the Headlights
The door opened before we reached it, and a woman who I guessed was my mother-in-law pulled us both in for a hug. She kissed me on the cheek and dragged us inside, shouting, “They’re here.”
If I wanted to make a quiet entrance and slink into the gathering, that was crossed off the list.
“Wyndham. I’ve been so looking forward to meeting you.” She took the dessert I was clutching and pulled me into her embrace, whispering that I could call her Iris. Her scent carried a smidgen of her son’s, and it calmed my tummy.
“And these must be my grandbabies.” She fussed over the kittens as other family members appeared in the hallway.
“Like that, is it? I mate and everyone ignores me.” Ambrose’s grin was almost as wide as his mom’s.
“Oh, you.” She took him in her arms until the rest of the family barged in and broke up the reunion.
Jeffrey waved, and there was a round of introductions. Rodney, my father-in-law, Jeffrey’s mate, Cecil, two uncles and a cousin whose names I didn’t catch. I’d have to pick those up in conversations or nudge Ambrose. Or do that thing where you never used the person’s name.
The kittens got everyone’s attention as they scampered out of their carriers and raced into the large living area. We followed them, with Ambrose’s hand in mine.
The main room was very different from the cabin. Ambrose had told me to expect “reindeer” type decorations, as well as the human kind. Christmas decorations covered every surface, and along with traditional “human” ornaments and lights were bunches of lichen and moss on the walls. Bowls of carrots sat on side tables that were a reminder that humans often left out a carrot for Santa’s reindeer on Christmas Eve. There was a banner over the fireplace that read “Santa’s Favorite Reindeer” with a cartoon reindeer wearing sunglasses.
Jeffrey appeared at my side with Cecil, and he handed me a glass of mulled wine. I clutched it as if it was my lifeline. “We’re so glad you could make it. How’s the car?”
“I’ll get it back after the holidays.” The damage was more extensive than we’d anticipated, but I was fortunate I didn’t have to get up early and take a bus to work while it was being repaired.
Ambrose’s cousin, whose name I discovered was Tilda, sat on the floor and entertained the kittens and made sure they didn’t eat the lichen, and though they turned their noses up at the carrots, they tipped over a bowl.
No one complained or freaked at the bedlam. They merely removed items from the kittens’ paws or picked them up and cuddled them.
“The kittens fit in with our family gatherings.” Iris put an arm around my waist, which wasn’t awkward, and I leaned into her. “None of us likes quiet.”
She wasn’t kidding because the house was full of talking, laughing, and the occasional bout of singing. It was so different from the Christmases I’d spent with my folks years ago. And it was a contrast to my mate, whose home had been a sanctuary of calm, until the kittens and I arrived.
But it wasn’t awkward, and I wasn’t hiding in a corner until we left. Instead, it was welcoming, and I embraced it.
Rodney tapped my elbow and beckoned me to one side of the room. I guessed he was less boisterous than the rest of his clan.
“My son is happy,” he stated.
I glanced at Ambrose, who had a hand on his brother’s shoulder and both were belting out a certain Christmas carol about a reindeer.
“I hope so, because I’m deliriously happy.”
“That was all we wanted for our boys, and we’re so glad you found each other.”
I blinked away tears as voices announced dinner was ready.
The long dinner table was decorated with holly and ivy, along with more lichen and carrots. The family, apart from Tilda who was single, shared stories of how they met their mate. There was an accidental shift in a restaurant, a chance meeting at a farmers’ market, and bumping into one another as one person was coming out of a cramped plane toilet.
The kittens were fed bits of turkey before being tuckered out and falling asleep in front of the fire, and they were so cute, I got teary.
Though the family didn’t do gift-giving, Iris brought out two gift bags for the kittens and explained they made an exception for Tinsel and Mistletoe. Inside were new collars with AirTags and tiny sweaters. I shared a glance with Ambrose because we knew they’d never wear the sweaters, but we could wrangle them into them for a quick photo for the grandparents.
After dinner, when we were all nursing mugs of hot chocolate, we played charades. But Charles, who was Rodney’s brother, tried to act out that famous Christmas carol. He did a partial shift and sprouted antlers. Everyone shouted that it was against the rules, but he demanded to see the rule book, which no one could produce.
I laughed, and my belly, which had been knotted in fear, now ached from giggling. Ambrose draped his arm over my shoulder, and we shared a chocolatey, marshmallowy kiss. This was so different from the office Christmas party I’d avoided and the past holiday seasons with my parents.
Everyone helped clear away the remnants of dinner, and while Iris and I were rinsing dishes, she said they’d been worried about Ambrose because he led a solitary lifestyle compared to the rest of the family. I told her that being alone wasn’t the same as lonely, and he’d seemed content when I met him. Not that I was the most objective judge, because when we met, he discovered I was his mate.
“He enjoys solitude, and I’ve discovered I like it too, living in the middle of the woods.”
“That’s how it should be.” She patted my hand.
