Page 8 of Wish For Me

He just raises an eyebrow, and I laugh. “Okay. It’s a plan. Should we go in?”

Leo grits his teeth as he looks up at the overly-decorated house. There are a half dozen of those huge inflatable Christmas characters and enough lights to probably be seen from space. “Is she going to make me sing Christmas carols?”

“I mean, that’s not part of the plan but I wouldn’t necessarily count it out. This is Paige we’re talking about.”

“Whenever I wonder what to expect from your Aunt Paige, I always think to myself, what would Bodhi do in this exact situation?”

I laugh. “They’re frighteningly alike. God knows what madness they’ll inflict on us once she’s his mother-in-law.”

Leo rolls his eyes, but there’s a softness to his face. He can tease his best friend all he wants and try to keep up that dry, sardonic Leo Malone facade, but I know the truth—he’s thrilled to see Bodhi so happy.

There’s a knock on Leo’s driver-side window and we both turn to see the man in question, decked out in a reindeer antler headband, a necklace of light-up tinsel, and a huge grin on his face.

“Jesus,” Leo mutters while Bodhi waves happily through the window.

“Come on,” Bodhi shouts. “We don’t want the hot chocolate to get cold.”

Leo turns imploring eyes to me. “Tell me there’s booze for the hot chocolate.”

I roll my eyes. “My uncles are here. Of course there’s booze for the hot chocolate.”

When we get out of the car, Bodhi hugs Leo like it’s been weeks since they’ve seen each other, instead of mere days. The fact that Leo tries to push him off only makes Bodhi more effusive. He squeezes Leo tightly and winks at me over his shoulder when my husband swears loudly and tries to shove him away. There’s nothing Bodhi enjoys more than giving Leo a hard time, and he seems to think the best way to do that is through regular public displays of affection.

“You know what I was thinking today,” Bodhi asks, slinging an arm around Leo’s shoulder and leading him toward the front door. “We’re going to be related soon. Legally a part of the same family. Isn’t that amazing?”

“We’re going to be cousins-in-law,” Leo says.

“Practically brothers,” Bodhi argues. Leo tries to pull away but Bodhi brings his face closer. “It’s okay,” he says in a loud stage whisper. “I know you’re just deflecting so you don’t have to face your feelings of deep love and affection for me.”

I snort out a laugh while Leo glares at me. He’s still wearing that expression when the front door swings open to reveal Aunt Paige, wearing a nearly identical outfit to Bodhi. My Uncle Reed is standing behind her, a Santa hat on his head, his expression more closely resembling my husband’s.

“Looking good, Reed,” I say, and he scowls at me.

“Tell me there’s booze in there,” Leo mutters before Paige pulls the three of us in for a loud, squealing, limb-flailing hug.

“I got you, kid,” Reed says.

The living room is filled with a predictable level of chaos. It’s looks like everyone made it here for Paige’s annual cookie decorating party. There’s a chorus of greetings as my cousins and siblings welcome us in. Everly comes sprinting towards us and throws herself at Bodhi, who kisses her like they’re reuniting after war, despite the fact that they live together and saw each other this morning, not even caring when Uncle Reed makes a growling noise at them.

Reed can try to play the protective dad all he wants, but we all know he loves Bodhi as much as the rest of the family. As Leo says, the guy is annoyingly difficult to dislike.

My niece comes running over as fast as her nearly four-year-old legs can carry her, squealing my name. Poppy’s little brother, one-and-a-half-year-old Harrison, toddles behind her. I swing them both up into my arms, pressing endless messy kisses against their cheeks while they laugh.

“Your face is covered in frosting,” I tell Harrison.

“We had three cookies,” Poppy whispers conspiratorially. “Grandpa help us.”

I raise my eyebrow at my dad, who’s currently handing Leo a beer. “Thanks for selling me out, kid,” he mutters to his granddaughter, leaning over her head to kiss me on the cheek.

“Don’t worry,” I whisper. “We won’t tell Aunt Paige.”

“Tell me what?” Paige demands, but she gets distracted as she looks at my dad. “Daltrey! Where’s your Santa hat?”

“I must have accidentally lost it,” he says drily. “Shoot.”

She gives him a purely evil grin. “Then it’s a good thing I have extras.”

Ten minutes later we’re all wearing some kind of hat—my Uncle Cash looks particularly smashing in a red and green striped elf cap—and sitting around the long tables Paige has set up in her living room. Will and Eva have joined us, with their one-year-old baby, Theo, and the Littles have arrived from their college campus to great fanfare. You’d think they were hundreds of miles from home the way everyone acts when they show up, rather than a mere twenty-minute drive.