Page 120 of Checking It Twice
Before I can answer, the front door flies open, and Karen comes rushing out, not even bothering with a coat. Behind her, I catch glimpses of movement—family members huddled in the doorway.
“Oh no,” I breathe.
“Oh yes.” Mitch grins, completely unbothered by the fact that we’re about to be swarmed. “Welcome to the madness. Come on, Clare Bear.”
The next ten minutes are a blur of exclamations, hugs, and everyone wanting to hold Charlie. Our daughter, who screamed bloody murder for the entire hour-long drive from the airport, immediately stops crying the second Karen takes her, looking around at all the new faces with wide-eyed curiosity.
I only blink.
“She knows where she belongs,” Grandma June announces, somehow managing to sneak Charlie away from Karen with the stealth of someone who’s been stealing babies for decades. “Look at those eyes. That’s pure Drake stubbornness right there.”
“She gets that from her mother,” Mitch says, slipping his arm around my waist.
“I am not stubborn.”
“You spent twenty minutes this morning trying to decide which onesie would photograph better with the Christmas tree.”
“That’s called being prepared.”
“That’s called being Clare.” His mouth brushes my temple, and some of the anxiety in my chest loosens. “Which is why I love you.”
The house smells like cinnamon and pine needles and the sort of comfort I never had growing up. Evan and Maddie’s kids are racing around wearing various combinations of Christmas pajamas and superhero capes, and there’s some kind of heated debate happening in the kitchen about whether the ham needs more glaze.
It’s loud and chaotic and absolutely nothing like the quiet, controlled Christmas mornings I’d imagined when I was planning Charlie’s first holiday.
It’s perfect.
“Aunt Clare!” Sophie comes barreling toward me with enough enthusiasm to knock me over. At nine now, she’s all long legs and missing teeth. Plus the confidence that comes from beingadored by an entire family. “Can I hold the baby? I’ve been practicing with my doll.”
“Let Aunt Clare get her coat off first,” Evan calls from the living room, where he’s trying to untangle what appears to be a string of lights that somehow got wrapped around the coffee table.
“I don’t want to wait. I’ve been waiting forever.”
The casual intimacy of it, the way he can still make me feel like the center of his universe even when we’re surrounded by his entire family, makes heat bloom in my chest.
“In a little bit,” Karen calls from the kitchen. “Clare, honey, come help me with the rolls. Mitchell, your father wants you to look at something in the garage.”
“What’s in the garage?” Mitch asks suspiciously.
“Just go.”
He drops a quick kiss on my lips before heading toward the back door. “Don’t let them overwhelm you,” he murmurs against my mouth. “And don’t let Sophie convince you she’s old enough to babysit.”
“I heard that!” Sophie calls.
The kitchen is warm and bright, filled with the rhythm of women who’ve been cooking together for years. Maddie’s rolling out pie crust while Karen checks on approximately seventeen different dishes. Grandma June has somehow managed to maintain control of Charlie while simultaneously directing everyone else’s efforts.
“How are you holding up, sweetheart?” Karen asks, handing me a bowl of dough. “I remember Evan’s first Christmas. I was convinced I was doing everything wrong.”
“I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing half the time,” I admit, grateful for the familiar rhythm of kneading. “Like, she’s fine when it’s just us at home, but the second we go anywhere or change her routine...”
“She’s a baby. They’re designed to make us feel incompetent.” Maddie laughs, flour dusting her hands. “Emma spent her first Christmas with a stomach bug. I spent the entire day convinced I was the worst mother in history.”
“But you figured it out.”
“Eventually. And so will you.” Karen’s smile is warm and understanding. “You’re doing better than you think, Clare. That little girl is lucky to have you. Both of you.”
Through the window, I can see Mitch in the garage with his dad and Evan, their breath visible in the cold air as they examine something involving a lot of pointing and head shaking. Even from here, I can see the easy way he fits back into this family dynamic, how natural it is for him to be here.
