Wayward Wolf

Uncle Charlie

Raymond

I'm hoping celebrating with her family will be enough to distract Eve from Mark. Frankie argued against tagging along, but it wasn't up for discussion. Not a chance in hell was I leaving my little brother alone in my house with that sick freak still roaming around. He's grumbled the entire drive about the people, the early time, and how cold it is. I'm close to socking him in the nose just to get him to be quiet.

Christmas was never a big holiday when I was a kid, but it became nearly nonexistent after I went blind. Between the school in Boise and that Mom died not long after I came back, we haven't had a decent Christmas in years. I'm not quite sure what to expect other than it'll be overwhelming because it seems the Scotts are incapable of half-assing anything.

As I open my door and unfold my cane, I can hear the door behind me slam shut and Frankie grumble, "There's kids here, isn't there?"

"Yes," I hear Eve answer before feeling her fingers wrap around my free hand. "And two of them are chaos incarnate."

I can feel Frankie sulking behind us as we make our way to the front doors. Just like every other time I've been here, I can hear little voices screaming and little feet thumping around before the door is even opened. My fingers tighten around Eve's as she opens the door. I can smell all four of the babies and Trevor and Travis, their scents all mixing and wafting from the same area. There are other voices, more muffled, in a room to the left, and the smell of cooking food. Eve didn't let any of us have anything more than coffee before dragging us out of the house, so I'm starving.

Suddenly, the screaming and thumping stop. I feel a handful of eyes on me and, after a beat of silence, hear a familiar shriek and a couple of very soft and unsteady footsteps. Everyone seems to gasp and hold a collective breath, but I'm not sure why. There is suddenly a rush of much more steady footsteps, followed by a soft thump. Little bodies slam into my legs before arms wrap around my calves, and weights press down on my feet.

"Did she just?" I hear Trev further in the room, his voice a little awed.

Confused, I start toward Emme when I hear a soft whine from the direction of the thump. It's difficult to pick up my feet with Nicole and Naomi cackling and weighing down my legs like ankle weights, but I finally manage to get close to where I can smell Emme. The tip of my cane hits a piece of furniture, the couch if I had to make a guess, and I offer my arm for Emme to grab, so I know where she is. When the little hands wrap around my forearms, I realize she's a little too far from the couch. She must have taken a few steps before she got bowled over. I slip my hand underneath her before lifting her up into my arms while she laughs. Just as I get her situated, I feel a tug at my pant legs who I assume must be Ryan.

All these damn kids. Why does this keep happening?

"What the hell?" Frankie grumbles from behind me.

I struggle to get to the couch with no free hands and the little ankle weights, but I feel a soft hand at my elbow to make sure I don't fall or drop a kid. When I sit, Emme immediately stands on my thighs and starts squishing my cheeks with chubby hands again while the triplets jockey for positions at my side.

"Charlie here is a regular kid magnet," Trevor says from somewhere on my left.

"Charlie?" I ask, raising a single brow in question.

"Easier than saying Ray Charles or Stevie Wonder all the time," Trev answers.

Voices and footsteps grow closer as more people shuffle into the living room. From the smell, it's the rest of the Scott family. There is shuffling and a few mumbled words before it seems everyone is seated somewhere.