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The Plight Before Christmas(55)

Author:Kate Stewart

“We’re all in this together,” Whitney says definitively, and I know she believes it. She has every reason to. Thatch and Serena’s wedding follows. Just after, Brenden and Erin’s wedding plays out, prefacing pictures of the births of each grandchild. It’s then I look over to Whitney, the only Collins girl unspoken for. Glancing around, I realize all individual families are bundled together as Whitney sits alone, seemingly undeterred in her position as both maestro and memory keeper. Though I feel every bit of the disappointment for her, all I see in her expression is devotion, and it’s like a battering ram to the chest.

She deserves the same success story. She deserves the life she wanted, the life she romanticized and always has.

I wanted it for her as much as she wanted it for herself.

The question is, why didn’t she have it?

As the video comes to an end, a picture appears of two elderly people huddled together in the cabin’s back yard. Easily, I identify them as Grandpa Joe and Grammie P, short for Penelope. I feel the crushing weight of their loss in those surrounding me before their images slowly fade away, and GRAVITY appears in block letters on the screen. The video cuts to black as sniffs sound throughout the room. The silence broken when Ruby speaks up.

“Have one more, Son,” Ruby says, slowly turning to Brenden. “I dare you, have one more.” No doubt she’s referring to her earlier statement about Whitney, and I feel the maternal love flowing from her as Ruby’s pride and tear-filled eyes drift to her. “What a blessing you are, beautiful girl.” Ruby stands just as Whitney gets to her feet. The two embrace for long moments, both sniffing and smiling.

“That was incredible,” Ruby whispers. “Thank you.”

“Happy Anniversary,” Whitney says softly as Allen interrupts their hug to give her a bear hug of his own, his eyes red. “You got us good, Sweet Pea.”

“Glad you liked it, Daddy. I already uploaded it to your Drive.”

“Overachiever,” Brenden growls from his chair as Erin rolls her eyes, brushing a tear away. “No, seriously, you did good, sis,” Brenden says, rare emotion in his own eyes. “That was so awesome.”

“Can’t take all the credit,” Whitney tells her parents. “Serena helped me sort the pictures and videos for months. I guess Brenden chipped in a little too.”

“Thanks, sis, that bus tire felt great.”

“God, you didn’t tell me it would be that cool,” Serena stands, wiping her eyes free of tears. “You did so good, Whit.” Serena pulls Whitney into a hug, and they separate, smiling.

“I only had like six pictures in there,” Gracie pipes in, disgruntled, which breaks up the raw sentiment and has us all laughing.

“Oh, the vanity,” Thatch says, grabbing Gracie and knuckling the top of her head while managing to keep Peyton snoozing on his chest. “Don’t worry, Gracie, I’m sure you’ll star in the next one, in your own ugly prom dress,” Thatch assures.

“My dress won’t be ugly. Mommy won’t let it be ugly.”

“Damn straight,” Serena agrees as Thatch stands. “We’re off to bed.”

“Us too,” Erin says, standing and holding out her hand to Brenden, who does the same.

“I’m taking my bride to bed as well,” Allen proclaims.

“TMI, Dad,” Brenden interjects as he follows Erin upstairs.

Everyone says their collective goodnights, and once vacated, Whitney begins to straighten the living room. I stand, gathering Peyton and Wyatt’s scattered toys from the floor and putting them in their designated plastic bin.

“That was fucking awesome,” I tell Whitney, grabbing the opposite end of a large throw as she starts to fold it.

“Thanks.”

“Really, Whitney, it was…” I shake my head, “you truly do have an incredible family and every right to be proud of it.”

She bites her lip, her face solely lit by the light of the Christmas tree and the dying fire.

I frown. “What?”

“I didn’t know if it would bother you.” The fact that she was concerned about my reaction only further reminds me that I still know her.

“It’s been a long time. I’m not as sensitive about it. But thank you for—”

“Was it your parents?”

I draw my brows. “Was what my parents?”

“Was that why you were having such a hard time when we…”

“Were together?” I nod. “A lot of it was, yes.”

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