Chapter Text
Iris answered the door and screwed up her face. “Flix,” she said disdainfully.
“Florrie,” said Noel, and stuck out her tongue. “Dad home?”
“Obviously,” said Iris, and stepped aside. Knowing the rules, Noel stepped neatly over the threshold, then did an elaborate little flourish just to piss off her sister. “God, you’re already on my last fucking nerve,” Iris informed her. “Here to ruin Christmas for everybody again by making it all about you?”
“Literally my birthday,” said Noel.
“You’re a plague,” said Iris.
“Girls,” said Dad from the kitchen, which was categorically unfair, because Noel hadn’t even done anything yet—but not totally unfair, because Noel had stolen Iris’s favorite sweater over Thanksgiving, which was probably why Iris was being a total bitch about this whole thing. “Mum and I will have to leave in about an hour to pick up Aunt Buffy from the airport,” Dad informed Noel, rounding the corner with a gingerbread man in hand. Noel set down her luggage and took it, giving Dad a grateful smile. “You’re both of course welcome to come along if you like.”
“Love you, Dad,” said Noel, skipping forward to drape her arms around his neck. Dad smelled like Christmas cookies and a touch of brandy, which probably meant that they’d have to keep the eggnog away from Iris again this year. “How’s tricks?”
“Much better now that you’re back from college,” said Dad, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled at her. “Is Mum getting the rest of your luggage from the car?”
“Uh,” said Noel, wishing she was even a hair better at lying, “yes?”
“…Has Mum left with the car to do some surprise Christmas shopping?” said Dad.
“Um,” said Noel. “No?”
“Wow,” said Iris. “You suck at this.”
Dad gave Iris a reproving look. “Be kind to your sister,” he said. “It’s a testament to her honesty that she isn’t able to lie on anyone’s behalf.”
“She took my fucking sweater and she will not give it back!” said Iris indignantly. “And I am her baby sister! I don’t have any power in this equation!”
Under her breath, Noel said, “It was my sweater first—”
“It was your sweater two years ago! You have waived all of your rights to that sweater!”
Dad pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “I find myself wishing very profoundly that Jenny had been kind enough to take me with her.”
“She’s shopping for you,” Noel objected, “she can’t take you with her!” and subsequently slammed mittened hands over her mouth.
“See?” said Iris. “Sucky.”
“Noel,” said Dad very tiredly, “would you kindly return Iris’s sweater and put this whole thing to bed?”
“That’ll just make her worse, Dad,” said Noel. “That’ll just convince her that this is an acceptable way to get what she wants. I think we need to teach Iris how to politely ask for things, rather than immediately acquiescing whenever she selfishly demands—”
Iris made a dive for the suitcase.
“Oh my god, you bitch!” Noel shrieked, diving for Iris.
There was then a bit of an impassioned kerfuffle that somehow ended with Iris clutching one of Noel’s favorite sweaters, which felt a fair enough resolution to both of them. Iris took the sweater to her room, came back, made sure that the door to her room was locked, and gave Noel a quick, stiff hug before saying, “Try not to totally outshine me at Christmas this year.”
“It is literally my birthday,” said Noel, and ruffled Iris’s dark hair until it was a mess of static electricity. Iris started trying to hit her with a nearby sofa cushion.
Mom got back with a whole bunch of bags that she proceeded to lock in the hall closet—a pretty performative action, considering that Dad knew how to pick locks, but it got the message across well enough. Upon seeing the contents of Noel’s suitcase strewn across the floor, she arched an eyebrow, said, “Flix, baby, you’re gonna have to pick that up before dinner, okay?” and proceeded to focus in on making sure that Dad was wearing enough overcoats for their drive out to the airport.
“Jenny,” said Dad, “we live in California.”
“Rupert,” said Mom, “global warming is a crazy thing, and you caught a cold just a few days ago. I’m not taking any chances.”
Noel, who had seen the Mom-Strong-Arms-Dad-Into-Self-Care show enough to mouth along to some of the scenes, busied herself with carefully kicking her clothing into a small pile. Iris helped zealously, probably stepping on a few blouses in the process. “What did you get me for my birthday?” Noel asked.
“The same thing I got you for Christmas,” said Iris. “Because I am seventeen and I’m on a budget.”
“Revising the question,” said Noel. “What would you have gotten me for my birthday if you weren’t on a budget?”
“Same answer.”
“Scrooge,” said Noel, and kicked a pair of jeans at Iris. Iris kicked them back.
Casually, Dad said, “Delightful as it is that you two are playing football with Noel’s clothing—”
“Soccer,” Mom cut in.
“We are not having this conversation, Jenny. At any rate, we need to move decisively towards the airport very soon, because I should like us to actually be able to meet Buffy when she arrives.” Dad had somehow managed to talk Mom down to two sweaters, and was donning an overcoat now. Well played, Noel thought. “Will you two be able to behave in the car?”
“No,” said Iris, and smiled angelically at Dad.
“That’s on you,” Mom said to Dad. “Never ask them that question. It’s an easy shot.”
Dad rolled his eyes a little and tugged Mom into his side with one arm, then opened his other arm to make some room. Noel, brimming over with birthday anticipation, skipped over to tuck herself into Dad’s other side, doing her best to angle herself so that there wouldn’t be any room for Iris.
“Noel,” said Mom.
Noel rolled her eyes and moved out a bit. Iris proceeded to walk directly through Noel’s clothing pile before nestling herself into the family hug. “This is why I don’t want her,” said Noel, tucking her arm around Iris’s waist and pulling her all the way in. “Send her back.”
“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” said Dad.
“Never,” said Noel.
Mom cleared her throat and stepped back. She looked at Noel and Iris for just a moment before she spoke—but it was a long moment, brimming over with warmth and love and that quintessentially mom expression on her face. “We should get to the car,” she said. “Your dad’s right. Best not to keep Buffy waiting.”
“And we can stop and get hot chocolate on the way back?” said Iris hopefully. “They have all of those seasonal drinks at that place by the airport, and when we were meeting Willow and Tara, you said—”
“I said we’d save that for when Noel was here,” said Mom. Noel felt a rush of butterflies. “And now she is here, aren’t you, Flix?”
“Here in time for Christmas,” said Noel.
“Isn’t it lucky, then, that Noel’s arrived?” said Dad with a wide grin.
Mom and Iris groaned. Noel had to stifle her giggles in her hands.
Noel and Iris squabbled most of the way to the airport. Jenny was surprised to realize that some part of her had missed hearing them bicker while Noel was off at college. Iris was persnickety and argumentative—she took after her mom like that—but the way that she argued with her sister had a kind of loving rhythm to it. Jenny wasn’t quite sure where they’d gotten that from.
“I’m overheating,” said Rupert sourly.
“You won’t be when we get into the airport,” Jenny reminded him. “You always complain about the AC.”
“As true as that may be,” said Rupert, “was it an honest necessity for me to wear these sweaters while in the car? I feel certain I will combust.”
“I find that hard to believe,” said Jenny.
“Stranger things have happened,” Rupert informed her.
Jenny rolled her eyes a little and placed her hand over his on the steering wheel, lacing their fingers together. The smile that danced across Rupert’s face was the same one she’d seen years ago, brushing her fingers against his accidentally-on-purpose in a town that no longer existed. Twenty-something years later, and he was still smiling like that.