Christmas Eve
A Christmas Eve feast adorned the long wood table. Pineapple roasted ham, creamy mashed potatoes, pan roasted Brussels sprouts, braised short ribs, cranberry sauce, baked asparagus, homemade rolls, and a mulled wine. Sarah helped herself to the mulled wine as people settled themselves at the table. Her parents let her and David drink on occasions like this despite being a couple years too young, so she planned to take advantage. Sarah's younger brother, David offered his mug up just as she was replacing the ladle. She filled it to the brim with a kind smile.
"Thanks." He said, taking a sip of the warm spicy drink.
Depending on who mixed it, extra brandy or sangria found its way into the recipe. This time it was their father's choice, brandy, giving it just that little extra kick.
"Gonna need a lot more to survive dinner." She said, mumbling through the glass pressed to her lips.
David chuckled, but in truth they both rather enjoyed Christmas with their family. It was draining at times and always chaotic, but also joy filled and magical.
Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree
played in the background, masked by the excited sounds of people finding their places. Their softly humming mother sat down at the head of the table next to Sarah, a spot reserved for her because she did most of the cooking and was, in fact, in charge. Tom, their Father sat down across from Sarah with a wide grin on his face.
"Helping yourself to the drink, I see. Can you taste my secret ingredient?" Tom asked.
"Yes, and it isn't much of a secret." Sarah said while rolling her eyes.
"I much prefer the sangria." David added.
"Always picking on your poor Dad."
Mary rolled her eyes at her husband's words, which were far from the truth. Tom was a wonderful husband but had always been and still was, the fun parent, leaving Mary to carryout the scolding and punishing. She was glad her kids were at an age now where she could treat them more as adults, spend less time mothering them.
Fourteen guests had found their places at the long table, with another eight at the 'kid' table nearby. Grandma Patricia stood up, bringing a hush to the excited chatter.
"As always, it's just so wonderful that we could all be gathered here together. Mary, my dear, thank you so much for opening your home to us."
A few mugs knocked the table at Patricia's meandering words, Mary beamed.
"I wish you all a Merry Christmas, and hope that all you desire you find."
She looked around the table.
"Now, let's be drinking!" She said and downed half a mug of mulled wine.
The table broke into a laughter which gave way to the clattering of dishes. They ate, drank, and chatted merrily. Food disappeared and the bowls of mulled wine were refilled.
Mary smiled at the head of the table as Tom told one of his patented stories, a tale of how David had broken his arm in a bounce house when he was eleven. David sat looking embarrassed despite there not being a person in the room who didn't already know the story.
David was an awkward young man, despite his good fortunes. He played wide receiver with enough skill for a full ride scholarship, which left him well muscled but lean. Not like some hulking linebacker, but still strong, defined, and firm. He was intelligent enough, more so than many of his teammates, and had a genuine passion for history. But he was hopelessly inept with women, something Sarah teased him about often.
However, she found her younger brother quite attractive, most women did. A few times she had watched him workout only to find herself enchanted by how sweat clung to and rolled down his rippling abs. The way his muscles bulged and throbbed. It seemed unfair to that she should live with and be so close to this wonderful creature, only for him to be off limits.
Leaving aside his looks, she thought he was sweet. She might make fun of him for stuttering and stammering around a pretty girl, for his apparent skill at finding his mouth with his foot. But she found it endearing in its own way, like an adorable puppy still learning how to walk.
The most recent example Sarah might cite of her puppy-like brother was her recent move into the dorms. David, who was fine at carrying heavy things, had gone to help. His sister's new roommate, Ashley, a pretty eighteen-year-old with a strong southern accent, had shown up around the same time. David had offered to help move her things as well. A true gentleman. Ashley spent the next hours flirting with him, using an increasing brashness that grew until it pained Sarah to watch.
Finally, Sarah told her brother she was going to meet some friends and would be back in an hour, suggesting he stay in the room alone with Ashley. A foolproof plan, she thought. When Sarah returned from her imaginary meeting with friends, she found David sitting at her desk, reading a book titled 'The Guns at Last Light'. Ashley was sitting at a desk as well, not reading a book but glowering at it. She had confided in Sarah later, that she had nearly undressed herself before giving up on David, who Ashley described as "Dense like a mule's muscles".
Sarah eyed her dense brother. He was wearing a pair of flannel pajamas that were at the moment showing off an impressive erection between his solid legs. She understood he was only eighteen, that it sometimes just happened. However, he squirmed in his seat, trying to find something to do with it. Sarah cleared her plate with a new determination and leaned towards her brother. At this point, multiple mugs into the mulled wine, it was less brain and more alcohol doing the thinking. A statement that would prove to hold true for David as well.
Her hand moved to rest on his thigh. David jumped a little at the unexpected touch and looked to his sister, only to find her staring innocently down the table at their grandmother, who was sharing a story about how Tom had broken his own arm when he was young.
