gets behind the wheel of one of the cars, while everyone divides into their other vehicles. I take Mom’s keys as she gets into the passenger seat of her car, and Ryan takes the back seat.
“It’s good to be home.” I breathe, taking in the air of my hometown.
Mom palms my cheek. “It’s good to have you home. Our family feels complete now.”
She glances in the rearview mirror at Ryan, and I know she means more than just having us back in town.
As I start the car and pull out onto the country road back into Fawn Hill, I think about how long it took to convince my wife to marry me.
Now, how long do you think it will take to wear her down about kids?
After five years together, I’ve come to know Ryan very well. I think I can find a move or two to do the trick.
Looking in the rearview, I smile knowingly at my wife. Before her, I was only keeping my head above water.
With her, I am flying … but only if she holds my hand.
A Very Nash Christmas
A Nash Brothers Extended Epilogue
Ten Years Later
Keaton
The tires of our seven-seater SUV crunch over the gravel driveway, and it’s almost a mile down until the house comes into view.
“Wow.” Presley breathes beside me, looking up, up, up at the massive log cabin we just pulled up in front of.
“Lily really didn’t disappoint with this choice,” I agree, observing the woodland mansion.
It’s a ten-bedroom, eight-bathroom house in the middle of the Pennsylvania wilderness. With a wrap-around porch boasting benches and rocking chairs, windows where most of the walls should be, and actual log details, it’s definitely the perfect winter paradise. When the idea was proposed for the family to get away for Christmas, Lily captained the search just like she usually does for all family vacations. She found the perfect place, and we haven’t even been inside yet. I know that the house also has a hot tub big enough to fit sixteen people on the deck out back, a hunting lodge somewhere on its twelve acre-property, and views of the lake a couple miles out that are visible from the rooftop balconies. Snow covers the roof, the railings, and most of the gravel drive, but I don’t mind navigating the car through it. If anything, a white Christmas would only make it more picturesque.
“Girls, we’re here. Pack it up.” Presley dons her mom voice to get our eleven-year-old twin daughters, Charlotte and Kate, moving.
The girls begin rustling, packing up the coloring books and markers, specific ones I’ve had to search all over Amazon to find, that they were using the whole way here.
“Can we pick our room before anyone else gets here?” Charlotte asks excitedly, the more outgoing of the two.
“You need to wait until everyone arrives. We already told you that,” I say, though I’m about to give in.
I may be the head of the family, but those two girls have me wrapped around their finger. Where I will not bend for a lot of the other people in our Nash tribe, one puppy-dog eyed look from my daughters and I’m a goner. They’re currently fighting me on when they’re allowed to get cell phones, but I’m not ready for that headache. With cell phones comes social media, which brings boys, and lord knows I want them to stay little for as long as possible. They’ve got a lot of their mother in them, Charlotte especially, and I know that they’re going to be wild things in a few years.
“I get to share a room with Jeremy, right?” Max pulls out an earbud.
Our son spent the ride immersed in whatever playlist he concocted with this face simultaneously in his phone. He is a freshman in high school and started dating his first girlfriend. The texting is constant, and while I know it’s probably puppy love, I try to be respectful of it. After all, my brother met the love of his life in high school, and he nearly lost her because of parental pressures.
“Yeah, that’s fine, sweetheart.” Presley flashes a smile to our son in the back seat.
Bowen’s son Matt is his best friend. They’re around the same age and have grown up together, and now they both attend Fawn Hill High School. The four parents are trying desperately to keep them out of trouble and devoutly loyal to each other, because raising kids these days is frightening.
For the most part, all of the Nash grandkids are