let Nicholas get a seat before you inundate us with football talk.” She stole a quick glance at her wristwatch. “And it’s almost time for Santa’s helpers to start putting stuff together. We’ve got two Barbie dollhouses, some racetrack thing and at least six tricycles!”
John laughed. “I think we’ll probably have more fun with the football!”
Marah narrowed her gaze at him. She stood on tiptoe to kiss his lips, gently pressing her mouth to his. “I like football, too, but not all the time, and not when there are a million things that have to be done to pull off this holiday.”
John laughed as he gave her a light squeeze. “I’ve got you, baby! Don’t you worry about anything. I personally guarantee all your elves and Santa’s helpers will get everything on your list done before the chubby guy falls down that chimney!”
“Nicholas, are you hungry? There’s a ton of food,” Marah said, shifting the conversation.
“I could eat.”
“He never stops eating,” Nathaniel added. “We probably should have warned you!”
Marah laughed. “Naomi did,” she said, referring to their older sister.
A hurricane of noise and limbs suddenly burst through the space, a cavalcade of youngsters racing past the adults. They ranged in age from three to almost twelve and sounded like a hurricane in the making.
“Gabrielle! Irene! Stop running!” Marah admonished. “And I mean it! You two are keeping all your cousins stirred up! Santa’s not coming if you two don’t get it together! How many times do I have to tell you both to set the example for the younger kids?”
Both little girls suddenly came to an abrupt halt, the others falling in line behind them. They eyed Nicholas warily. The younger of the two, Gabrielle Stallion shifted her gaze from his face to the bright white running shoes he wore on his feet. Her eyes moved from him to Nathaniel, shifting as she took in their identical features. She pointed an index finger. “You two are twins!”
The adults laughed.
“That’s right,” Nathaniel said. “This is my twin brother.”
“Gabi, you don’t remember your cousin Nicholas?” John asked, his gaze on his daughter’s face.
Gabi shrugged, the gesture dismissive.
“Did you bring presents? Everyone else brought presents,” Irene Stallion questioned, her small hands resting on her lean hips.
Nicholas laughed. “I did bring presents. They’re still in my car. Are you going to help me carry them in?”
Irene narrowed her gaze on the man’s face. “I’ll go get Collin. He does things like that,” she said with a shrug.
Gabi echoed the sentiment. “Collin does ’dem things. He’s a big boy,” she said.
“Girls can do boy things, too,” Irene said matter-of-factly.
Two of the older boys looked from the girls to the adults. One small voice suddenly spoke up. “Uncle John, are we still going outside to play kick ball?”
John turned his gaze to eye the nine-year-old and ten-year-old staring at him. “We’re ready when you are, Jake. But I thought you and Lorenzo were having fun playing with the girls?”
The youngster named Lorenzo gave them all an exaggerated eye roll. “Irene and Gabi are too bossy,” he said emphatically.
“Am not!” Gabi snarled.
Irene snapped her head in the young boy’s direction, her eyes narrowing into thin slits. “Humph!” she grunted.
Lorenzo’s eyes widened, and he took a step backward, bumping into his cousin Jake.
“I’m playing, too, and I’m going to be the pitcher,” Irene said as she turned on the toes of her cowboy boots. She then tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and moved toward the back of the house.
Gabi gave the boys a take that look as she skipped after her older cousin. The line of noise followed behind the two, the wealth of it rushing toward the other side of the home.
John called after them, “Gabi! Your mother said to stop running!”
Marah tossed up her hands. “You guys know your way to the kitchen. I need to corral the toddler brigade back upstairs to the playroom.”
“I’m still trying to figure out how they all got out!” John exclaimed, his own head shaking.
He and Marah exchanged a look both answering at the same time. “Frick and Frack!” they exclaimed, referring to Gabi and Irene.
Nicholas laughed. “And how old are the girls now?” he asked.
“Gabi is eight and Irene just turned eleven.” Marah answered.
“Eleven going on thirty,” Mark Stallion, John’s brother, suddenly interjected, hearing his daughter’s name. “It’s good to see you, cousin,” he said as he moved to Nicholas’s side to shake his hand.
Marah gave her husband a quick nod. “John Stallion, you have only two hours until all the children need to be in bed. Please tire them out before we all go crazy!” she admonished as she rushed in the direction of the noise, an argument ensuing in the other room between the younger kids.
John laughed. “You are just in time, Nicholas. How are you at running the bases?”
“I’ve never had any problems before,” Nicholas answered, chuckling deeply.
The others all laughed with him.
“Well, Mark’s daughter is one tough cookie,” John interjected. “And she throws a mean ball. You may have just met your match.”
* * *
The men from the Stallion and Boudreaux families and their children were divided into two teams. John was captain of one, and Nicholas had volunteered to lead the other. The women watched from the rear patio as the men and children played kick ball in the makeshift field.
Irene’s mother and Mark’s wife, Michelle “Mitch” Stallion, shook her head. She and Marah exchanged a look, their two daughters bickering at each other in the outfield. Despite admonishments from both their fathers, neither little girl was interested in playing nice.
“She’s trying to break me,” Marah said. “Gabi has made it her mission to try my last nerve and break me down.”
Marah’s twin sister, Marla, laughed. “It was that parent curse. Daddy had wished that you’d have a daughter just like yourself, and voilà!”
Marah cut an eye in her twin sister’s direction. “I was never that bad!”
“You really were that bad,” their older sister Eden said.
Katherine Boudreaux chuckled. “We all have one that challenges us. Thankfully they grow out of it,” she said.
“Which
