“Dad, please don’t let her take my phone!”
Mom sighs. “You better get your things and get back in before it really starts coming down, and please don’t forget the booze.”
“No chance of that.”
After sneaking my suitcase past my sister’s fighting family on the second floor, I take the steep steps up into the tiny attic bedroom. Walking over to the twin bed, I plop my suitcase on the mattress and eye my mother’s childhood dolls, Raggedy Ann and Andy, where they sit situated on the pillows. Running my fingers over Raggedy Ann’s yarn hair, it warms me from inside out that four generations have made memories in this cabin.
For me, family is the definition of gravity.
After ditching my suitcase, I haul my wrapped presents in and place them neatly under the tree before lugging the box filled to the brim with booze into the kitchen.
“Bless you, child,” Mom tosses over her shoulder as she sticks a ginormous pan of her lasagna into the oven.
“Sure you don’t need help?”
“No, kid, mix yourself a drink and go say hello to your father.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After pouring myself a stiff iced whiskey with a splash of coke, I set off to find my Dad. Being an aunt is one of the greatest privileges of my life but being commandeered in a house with my nieces and nephews for days on end is a different story. There’s nowhere to hide, and I’m used to a more uneventful and calm state of domestic existence. In that sense, I’m a true old maid.
Taking a healthy sip of Jack, I make my way from the kitchen to the adjacent den and exit the sliding glass door. Stepping onto the massive porch that corners the right side of the house, I soak in the mountain view across the street before following the sound of soft grunts. I find the lower half of my Dad on a ladder as he staples lights to the low point of the roof.
“Hey, Daddy,” I greet him, and he ducks under the cover of the roof, snow falling steadily past his coated shoulders, a smile lighting up his face. “Hey, Sweet Pea. You just get in?”
“Yes, Sir. What are you doing stringing up more lights? You know you’re only going to have to take them down in a week.”
“Joe would’ve wanted it this way.” My father is a bear of a man, large frame, large hands, prominent features, a stark contrast to my mother and me. I study his profile as he descends the ladder and take note that the man I once saw as immortal and invincible is starting to show real signs of aging. This makes his brief hug priceless for me and the drive one hundred percent worth it. That is until he grabs my drink and tosses it back like it’s his.
Glass empty, he sucks some of the ice into his mouth, siphoning as much of the liquor as he can. “Your mother won’t let me have a drink until after dinner, the witch.”
“Feeling a little stressed, Dad?” I laugh as he again drains the glass for a drop more. I half expect him to tongue it like a giraffe with the way he’s bleeding it dry.
“No, why would you ask that?”
I raise my brows as Gracie’s voice echoes through the window above us.
“Fine,” he lifts guilty eyes to mine. “I’m pretending to be busy so I can avoid Gracie. She’s been screaming at your sister since they pulled up yesterday.”
He wipes his mouth and darts his fear-filled eyes past my shoulder, lowering his voice. “She’s my first grandchild, and I love her. God knows I do, but any name with the word grace disguised in it was not the right call for that one.”
I laugh through my scold. “Daddy!”
“What? She’s awful. All she does is whine and bark orders at your sister and mother.” He takes one last pull at the empty drink. “Thanks, Sweet Pea. I really needed that.”
“Apparently.”
He looks me over. “You look beautiful, healthy. How are things?”
“Honestly, pretty shitty. Another break up with a guy I didn’t even like, and I got passed over for a promotion I deserved. Oh, and my car just kicked the bucket.”
“Gravity,” he reminds me.
“I know, and trust me, I’m feeling more thankful by the minute.” I glance at the spacious length of yard bordering the cliff rock past the edge of the deck, which is becoming blanketed by the rapidly falling snow.
“You missing Grandpa Joe?” My father and grandfather were the best of friends despite my father eloping with my mother when they were only nineteen. It was quite the scandal in this small town where they grew up before my parents moved to Nashville. And Triple Falls is small town in every sense. It seems very few secrets are kept here.