when night comes ━━ mike schmidt

𝟬𝟭𝟲 christmas

WHEN NIGHT COMES / Chapter Sixteen
merry christmas! if you don't celebrate, i hope you enjoy this chapter anyway!

It was a well-known fact that Zion Adams was a chronic worrier.

No matter the situation, her thoughts would find a way to churn into an anxious mess, degrading her, nagging her—she could never have a moment's rest. And those worries increased tenfold on Christmas Day.

She needed it to be perfect. Zion—and Mike—had gotten up at the crack of dawn, before the sun could even think about rising, to make breakfast. They made pancakes piled high with whipped cream and squirty sauce, waffles decorated with fresh fruit, pan con tomate (something Mike had been practicing specifically for the day) and more.

Mía had eaten most of it, resulting in a mess of colourful sauce and cream all over her face, and Abby had just ended up eating chocolate instead.

Stubborn as always, Mía refused to clean her face and the one time Zion dared to try wipe it clean, she was met with a ball of wrapping paper to the face. Zion tried to scold her but with their mother laughing louder than her words, it didn't work.

So, here they were: Abby and Mía opening presents, Mike and Zion watching with tired smiles; and Zion's mother oohing and ahhing at the gifts as if she hadn't wrapped them herself.

"Thank you, Santa!" Abby shrieked and shook the teddy bear she'd just unwrapped in the air.

"Santa isn't real," Mía pointed out as she'd been doing for the entire time of gift opening.

"Nuh-uh," Abby shook her head, finally rising to the girl's challenge, "Who gets the presents, then?"

"Zion and Mike!"

"No! They're poor!" Abby argued.

"Abigail," Zion's mother gasped loudly, a hand over her heart in a dramatic fashion, "That's not a very nice thing to say, is it?"

Abby pouted at that, "But it's true."

She gave the girl a firm stare, "But we don't say things that aren't nice, do we? Zion and Mike work very hard to provide for us all."

"Sorry, Carmen," Abby sighed. Somehow, Zion's mother—who she'd known for only a few months—was more successful in disciplining her than her own brother.

"Who do you really need to say sorry to?"

"Sorry, Mike," Abby turned to them as she spoke, "Sorry, Zi."

Zion only laughed, finding the girl too cute to be upset, "It's fine, Abs, don't worry about it."

"Yeah, you're not wrong, Abs," Mike nodded in agreement, "But Carmen's right, maybe don't say it next time."

"Yes, dad," Abby said it in a way that wasn't sincere, it was sarcastic; it meant no, I will not listen to you.

Carmen cleared her throat, "Anyway, Mía, it's very rude to discredit Father Christmas like that."

Mía scoffed, "He's not even real, Mom!"

"Who told you that?" Carmen asked, tilting her head in disbelief.