Countdown to Midnight
Book/Series: Endless Summer
Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f) Variego, Grace x Aleister
Summary: Post-ending. The La Huerta gang see in 2025. Yeah... it took me a lot longer than expected, it's a little late!
Word Count: 5065
Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!
Six Hours to Midnight
Baby Liv sat on her Mama Estela’s lap, nestled against her chest. It was a moment of stillness that was becoming rarer; at some eighteen-months old, the dark-haired, rosy-cheeked child was an agent of chaos… but even little monsters had to recharge at some point.
Holding her baby, Estela was cross-legged in front of a garden patch, one marked with an engraved stone. There was no grave at which to visit her mother, but she had this.
“I think…,” she said, “it should be a boring one-- in a good way. There’s a few things we’ve been talking about with Catalyst, but I don’t wanna take on too much. Livi is what matters.”
Estela talked to her mom about Liv now and then; it was the best she could do. Small comfort was better than no comfort at all. The passing of years was healing in some ways, while some aches only deepened. Olivia Montoya-- the first-- was a distant memory, fading further out of reach, and that was shit.
“We, uh, we’ll head stateside for at least a little while though; Michelle and Quinn are getting married. Liv’s got a gig as a flowergirl!”
Then, she was quiet. She held Liv tighter as her eyes began to sting. Thirteen years…. It wasn’t fair. Almost half her life ago. Closing her eyes, Estela nestled into Liv’s hair, and the scent of her was a balm. Of all the dates the anniversary had to be… that it fell on a day what should have been about looking forward was cruel. What about it wasn’t cruel? ‘Cruel’ was something Estela could not abide, and maybe that fire it brought out in her was a gift, had actually done some good in the world. But she still had to live with what had happened.
Soft footsteps. Immediately as Taylor sat down, Estela leaned into her.
The arrival of her second mother was enough to put Liv back into wriggle-mode. She squirmed halfway onto Taylor’s lap. “Mama Tay! Fwowas?”
“Yeah,” Taylor whispered, “I brought some flowers for Abuelita. They’re really pretty, aren’t they?”
“Fwowas,” Liv agreed, and she reached for the colourful objects. ‘Flowers’ was a new word, and one of Liv’s favourites.
“Uh-ah!”
Thankfully, Estela had quick reflexes, sharpened by time spent in the company of her own grabby toddler, and her nephew as well. “What am I going to do with you, huh?” she laughed. Then she placed the flowers down against the stone. “Te amo, Mami.”
When they’d sat for a few moments more, Estela heaved a big sigh. “Okay; we’d better head over. You’re ready to go?”
Taylor kissed the side of her wife’s head. “Diapers packed, coffee downed. I’m ready if you are.”
Five Hours to Midnight
There was a spring to Diego’s step, and he swung Varyyn’s hand as he walked. This next year was shaping up to be a good one.
“It is nice to see so wide a smile on your face,” Varyyn said, his eyes twinkling and warm in the evening light. “For all the work you have put in, you deserve it.”
Diego gave a little squeal and a hop. “I just can’t believe I heard anything back, today of all days-- after all these months of waiting and trying--”
“Perhaps,” Varyyn said, smiling, “the publishers thought it a New Year’s gift. Or they were so enamored by your writing that they simply could not wait until after the holidays!”
Tremendously exciting though his soon-to-be signed book deal was, there was trepidation as well. Diego had barely left La Huerta since retreating back there when Covid hit. Any extended time in the US meant he’d have to put aside what had become a significant part of himself-- for he was culturally part-Vaanti-- and worse, he’d likely go long stretches without his husband by his side.
Varyyn squeezed the fingers entwined in his. He was quick to sense the swooping of fears. It happened that way with Diego sometimes; any highs too dizzying had to be tempered by a surge of worry or sadness. As though his mind could not trust in joy, and sought to bring him down gently rather than have the world force a crash.
“You have spent so much energy believing in me, my love,” he said, gently tugging Diego closer so that he bumped gently against his chest. It was enough-- that beautiful grin returned. “What if I decree as Elyyshar that you must believe in yourself? Or at least, to say the words, whether you believe them yet or not?”
Diego giggled. “Hey-- you can’t just pull the Elyyshar card on my self-esteem!”
“Then shall I enlist Taylor to cheer in your corner whenever you travel away?”
“That’s not fair-- between the two of you, the bullying voices in my head wouldn’t stand a chance!”
Varyyn pulled Diego to a stop so he could kiss him, sighing into it as his love melted into it. When he came away, he looked upon Diego with all the adoration that reverberated through his soul. “True. And that is exactly how it should be.”
Diego closed his eyes, leaning up so his forehead was pressed gently against Varyyn’s. A soft smile curved his lips. “It’s not even midnight yet….”
“I’m afraid not,” Varyyn said, “but how could I wait for the most marvellous of all your traditions?”
Four Hours to Midnight
Reginald squealed, running up and down the hallway, his little legs flailing to the sides in his wild enthusiasm.
Aleister had a hand to his forehead. New Year’s at our place-- it’ll be no trouble at all! No trouble, ha. No trouble….
“Reggie, we’re settling down now! It’s already a very late night for a little boy.”
He was only two. Midnight was out of the question, but it had seemed simple enough in theory to suggest that Reggie would handle a minor change to the bedtime routine, that being Liv’s staying overnight.
Baby Liv wobbled around on her chubby legs, chasing her cousin at a determined waddle. The one-year-old had at least been changed into her nightie, being just young enough that she didn’t put up too much of a fight.
“Weggie-wun!” she cried with a cheerful bounce of her knees.
Reggie run? Oh no, don’t you start egging him on--
But Diego swooped in, scooping Liv up in his arms. “We can take ‘em! Don’t you know my reputation as a story-teller? I’ll have them eating out the palm of my hand in no time.”
‘No time’ stretched out into thirty, forty, then fifty minutes. It was all hands on deck with two over-excited, over-tired, and increasingly fractious toddlers.
Usually, Reggie’s bedtime routine ran like clockwork, his parents like a well-oiled machine as they responded to minor wobbles. Aleister hoped this night was not a sign of the year to come; Reggie screamed, tried to bite Liv when she grabbed his toy car, threw two books on the floor, and hit his mother, father, and Auntie Taylor in quick succession.
“You said you were looking forward to the toddler phase, Taylor?” Aleister commented darkly as his sister-in-law took a breather.
“I know it’s not like this twenty-four-seven,” she replied, picking up one of the books that had become a missile. “Otherwise, people wouldn’t have more than one. And Reggie’s a darling. Watching him become that person is worth the terrible twos, and it’ll be just the same with Liv.”
With Reggie and Liv settled in Diego’s lap to hear Where the Wild Things Are, there was time at last to enjoy calm and quiet. It struck Taylor how grown-up Liv looked joining her big cousin for a story. The time flew so fast… whether they were ready or not. Taylor found herself looking forward to each new stage, but she knew Estela missed the cuddly baby who could easily be kept close, kept safe. In the early days, Estela had been favoured by Liv by a country mile, but more recently, the fun and expressive Taylor was all the rage. Things just… changed.
“Any big resolutions this year, Al?” she asked as they watched the toddlers from the doorway. Sure, they could go and sit down, get comfortable for a little while, but with the storm over, it was nice to just enjoy a bedtime.
Aleister frowned. “Do we really have to make an annual song-and-dance around self-improvement?”
“Well… no. In some ways it is silly,” Taylor admitted. “I always try to do better; I don’t need the year to tick over to force the issue.”
“I have a temper,” Aleister said shortly. “I snap, I scorn, and I promised myself I’d never let Reg be on the receiving end.” He looked at his little boy, bright-eyed and laughing. “I’m not naiive enough to think that I’m special for losing my rag with a belligerent toddler, but I wanted so badly to not be that parent.”
“Maybe a two-fold resolution,” Taylor said gently, “to handle your emotions better… and to cut yourself some slack for being human. I guess you’ll have reassurance of how normal you are when me and ‘Stel are pulling our hair out over Liv.”
The smallest smile tugged at the edge of Aleister’s mouth. It was fortunate to not feel alone as a parent. Not only did he have Grace, but he had family nearby, their struggles shared and understood.
“Heavens, Liv is going to be a pain in the arse of a toddler. And I’m sure you know I say that with love.”
Taylor couldn’t help but laugh. Liv was strong-willed. It would serve her well in life, but would not necessarily make for an easy ride for her moms. That was okay; they could take on anything.
“He’s such a good boy,” she gushed, watching as Reggie picked up Liv’s dropped milk bottle before Diego could even react. “You must be doing something right, something important, because he is a kind little man.”
Yes, he was. Either Reggie had got that from Grace, Aleister supposed, or they really were on the right track.
“So, Taylor? What challenge have you set for yourself? I can only assume you’ve done so if you’re bringing this nonsense up willingly.
“Same as always, really. Be grateful every day. Don’t forget what I went through to be here, even when ‘here’ feels like shit. And I really need to get a handle on my caffeine problem. Between finishing my degree and surviving a baby, I have a very intense relationship with coffee.”
“You know, I hadn’t noticed. Oh well, at least your first ambition was somewhat realistic, saccharine though it might be….”
Three Hours to Midnight
Taylor, pyjama-clad, trudged back down the beach, side-by-side with Diego. As the night had worn on, everyone had seen to change into more comfortable attire, which in Diego’s case had meant a walk back to Elyys’tel to grab his PJs. Taylor, naturally, had joined him, enjoying the fresh night air and the flowing of optimism that came with the eve of a new year.
“I keep seeing all these memes-- ‘95 kids with their thirties looming this year,” Diego laughed. “Who’s first?”
Taylor’s brow furrowed as she ran through the birthdays in her head. “I mean, obviously Jake’s already over that particular hill… but Sean, I’m pretty sure. Earlier in the year it’s mostly us li’l ‘96 kids. It’ll be round for you and me before we know it, though.”
“Feels like a big milestone,” Diego observed, swirling his drink. “The years really do start coming and they don’t stop coming.”
Taylor chuckled. “How do you think I feel? I’ve only been around seven years and I’m already twenty-nine! If I wasn’t so insanely grateful for the life I’ve landed, I could wind up feeling short-changed.” She walked into the shallows, the cool water beautifully refreshing. “I still don’t really know what I want to do when I grow up. Mom, wife, friend, yeah… but professionally has been trickier.”
“I guess it could get easier for you to dabble, if you like, now Liv’s that bit bigger.”
“I’m thinking about it,” Taylor said. “I enjoy counselling, and I want to make myself available to kids in San Trobida, working remotely. That year I was on the ground was pretty rewarding, and I loved connecting with people. It’s just all fallen off since I’ve been away with Liv. I do a little bit here and there, helping out with Catalyst International, but we’ve all definitely lost momentum .”
Diego was thoughtful. It was a difficult balance-- did one chase far horizons or hold tight to the simple things that were dear? La Huerta, with all its secrets, was so far removed from the rest of the world that the choice was often a stark one.
“You’re a really great mom, Tay,” he said. “I’m sure you hear it from Estela all the time, but you’re gonna get it from me too. What were we saying about the years flying by? I don’t think you’ll ever regret making Liv your priority while she’s small. The rest of the world isn’t going anywhere… and who can we thank for that?”
“Team effort,” Taylor stated, but she smiled at her friend. “I’ve always put too much pressure on myself. It’s probably an annoying by-product of what Vaanu made me for. Estela is much better adjusted to living in the moment. She’s done. She’s got her family, and anything else can just take a seat.”
Of course, personal experience of how suddenly loved-ones can be snatched away would do that to a person.
“But thank you. It really does mean a lot. If I can only be successful in one thing for the rest of my life, it’s my family, no questions asked. I don’t wanna ever lose sight how lucky I am to have them… by all accounts I shouldn’t even still be here.”
“Yeah… you were never gonna belong anywhere else.” Diego leaned against a rock, easing into sitting down. “There’s actually something I should tell you….”
Taylor read the mood quickly; this was good news. She sat beside him, not minding the sand on her pyjamas.
“So….” He paused for effect. “It looks like I’ve got myself a book deal!”
“I’m sorry-- what? You didn’t lead with that, like, immediately--? Oh my god!”
“I know! It’s a lot to get my own head around, to be honest, but I figured you’d forgive me. I’ve been back-and-forth with a publisher-- they’re based in London-- and, uh, yeah. It’s really happening!”
Taylor squealed and hugged him, almost pulling them both off their perch and into the water. “Congratulations! You deserve this. You really deserve this.”
“It’s just crazy-- I can’t believe it!”
“I can,” Taylor said, beaming proudly.
Diego laughed out loud, “I know you can, you’re there with Varyyn heading up my cheer squad!”
“I’m on such a high right now; I mean, the logistics and everything it means keeps threatening to drag me down, but I want to spend at least a little while longer feeling the accomplishment. I’ve actually got a publisher on board!”
Taylor took his hand and grasped it tight. She understood. Nothing was ever easy so long as La Huerta and everything that came with it remained prominent in their lives; they wouldn’t change it for the world, so they just made space for that complication, that emotional upheaval.
“The ins and outs you’ll work out. We’ll work out, because the cheer squad isn’t going to leave you high and dry, not for anything. You’re right to want to bask in this-- it’s huge.”
“Yeah, huge is the word.”
Editors, schedules, marketing, interviews… it was a world away from what Diego’s life was now. Did he even know how to fit in outside La Huerta? He could barely manage such a feat before that fateful summer vacation.
“We’ll be behind you, all the way,” Taylor said firmly. She looked out at the sea. It would be hard to leave this place; even harder for Diego, who could not do so with his partner, his soulmate, at his side. “And you know… we have a pilot on Catalyst International’s books. I’m not saying we could get you home in a jiffy or anything, but you’d just have to say the word.”
Diego gave a dry chuckle. “A private plane? What happened to CI’s environmental consciousness?” he ribbed.
“Oh, don’t you worry. We’ll plant more than enough trees to cover your footprint. You know how much Estela likes throwing money at trees. And you, actually. Consider us investors.”
She knew it took a lot for Diego not to protest. Accepting tangible support and backing was uncomfortable, but with his Catalyst family, a helping hand could be taken. He knew well enough he’d do the same for any of them in a heartbeat.
Diego met Taylor’s eye, and smiled at her. “Okay. I’ll take it; I’m not too proud.”
Taylor smiled back, and exhaled contentedly, allowing herself to just enjoy what she had. This beautiful place in the world where she belonged, her best friend beside her, out in their pyjamas beneath a million twinkling stars.
Two Hours to Midnight
“What do you think? I thought you might like this one.”
In all honesty, fractal art was not Estela’s cup of tea. Some of the pieces were admittedly striking to look at, and she admired the depth of skill and knowledge that went into them, but it was hard to connect to them emotionally.
This one gave her pause. The eerie familiarity of the colours and shapes. For a few moments, Estela was uncertain whether she liked it a lot, or hated it.
“How did you do it, Grace?” she asked, transfixed. This wasn’t just plain old shapes and patterns, this was a journey through the fabric of time and space.
“A lot of experimentation,” Grace replied, her features lighting up at the response she’d gotten. She’d always felt her sister-in-law’s genuine support, but she’d never really reacted much to any of the pieces before. “It felt as though I was on a journey through another plane… just like when we sought the Heart.”
“It’s got… the feel of it. Huh.” Estela shook her head, finding herself getting caught up. “I’ll have a copy of that one off you. I-- if that’s okay.”
Grace laughed gently and hugged her. “Of course. The offer has always been there. Maybe you and Taylor can help me think of what to call it. I think this one needs a meaningful title.”
She paused, taking measure of her companion.
“I’ve been meaning to ask how you’re doing,” Grace said. “I know it’s not always easy.”
Estela took a moment to take stock of herself, to give an honest answer. She’d shed a few tears earlier, but it had been a good night. Dinner with her family was usually a good time, and the kids had their way of keeping her busy enough that she couldn’t dwell on sad anniversaries. She’d indulged Aleister a little bit of shop talk; one of the hopes they shared for the next year was to work out an effective way to invest in San Trobida’s education system-- and bring them closer to offloading the vast bulk of their inherited riches. Diego and Varyyn had been good company; full of the joys as was usually the case when it came to the anniversary of their first kiss. Taylor was in her element, laughing the night away between quite moments of connection with her friends, and Liv… well, she just lapped up the attention. Estela felt… content.
“I’m fine,” she said at last. “New Years is always… everything all at once. Kind of like how that makes me feel.” She nodded toward Grace’s fractal masterpiece. “Everything that’s good, it all stands out more because it’s set against pain and sadness.”
Estela blushed a little at Grace’s thoughtful gaze upon her. You know, ‘fine, thanks’ would have been enough.
“The shadows give the light significance,” Grace observed.
“Yeah…,” said Estela quietly. She didn’t really want to talk on it anymore. She’d done her hurting and moved into a place of peace, at least as far as this new year was concerned.
“Do you… do you have plans for this year? I guess your exhibition is huge….”
Grace smiled broadly. “It really is! I’m excited, but it’s daunting with Reggie to consider. I’ve set myself the goal of reading more; personal learning is something that’s fallen by the wayside-- especially with the sleep regressions we’ve been having. But I need to learn to make ‘me’ time, even if it’ll take work to train myself that I deserve it.”
“Just takes practice like anything else,” Estela commented. She knew self-love wasn’t something that came easily for Grace, but she’d already come so far in treating herself better.
“We’re back!” came a call from the other room. Diego. It had struck Estela as excessive that he’d felt the need to traipse all the way to Elyys’tel to put on his pyjamas if the actual goal was to unwind. Perhaps he’d just wanted the feel of a late-night adventure, even for something so mundane.
The group gathered together again in Aleister and Grace’s lounge, Estela having brought Taylor into a cuddle half-perched on her lap, while Diego had settled on the rug while Varyyn lovingly played with his hair from behind. It was cosy. Estela was certain she preferred this to the more extravagant celebrations had with a larger group; she was probably never going to be a big party person.
Diego left the room briefly before enthusiastically placing down a casette-style box on the coffee table. “Blockbuster time! We’ve gotta split into two teams--”
“You don’t mind if Grace and I hop onto your side?” Aleister piped up swiftly. “I’ve always had better things to do with my life than stare slack-jawed at a screen, and you-- er, balance out the gaps in my knowledge.”
So, the group split. Estela imagined that she, Taylor and Varyyn might have an uphill battle on their hands to best Diego at Blockbuster: The Game.
Taylor cracked her knuckles. “All right, Diego. You and me for the first head-to-head? You might have written the book on this stuff, but I’m not going down easy!”
One Hour to Midnight
“Well,” Aleister said, passing Grace a steaming mug of cocoa, “it wasn’t my favourite game, but I think we performed admirably.”
She chuckled. “In no small part due to Diego!”
Aleister had a mind to add ‘and Estela’s being useless at charades’ but made the choice to be nice. Instead, he snuggled up to his beloved wife and took a sip of his drink.
It was an odd sort of family they had, but nowadays… he wouldn’t change a single part of that messy tapestry for the world. Estela had long been a challenge for him. That belligerence, Aleister had come to realise, had actually been a gift, holding him accountable as he took over Rourke International and their father’s estate. Estela didn’t mince her words, and he’d come to respect that about her.
But no… she was no good at charades. Both Estela and Taylor were all but crashed out on the other couch, surely feeling the late night. Late nights were something parents of toddlers were not best equipped for.
Aleister yawned widely. “Heavens-- is it just me, or does midnight feel later every year? I can barely keep my eyes open.”
A soft smile on her face, Grace nuzzled against his cheek. “Just hold out a little longer, sugar. We don’t want our guests to have to carry us to bed!”
Oh, the indignity. No. They couldn’t have that.
Still, he let himself close his eyes to the feel of Grace, warm against him. Another year, side by side. It had been New Year’s the first time they made love, hiding out from a looming enemy. How things had changed…. Aleister had been so afraid back then, barely trusting himself to believe in the friendships he was forming. He came so close to squandering them, to losing Grace, all because fear made him a lesser man. Grace had always been different, though; she was downright courageous. Possibly even more scared than he was, and yet she faced every challenge head-on, and with a kind and open heart. Without her, would he have been brave enough to embrace such qualities in himself? He doubted it. Grace believed in him then as she believed in him now, and it turned his world around.
“Is it next year ye-e-e-e-et?” came the ominous sound of a toddler’s voice. Reginald, awake.
Aleister groaned out loud. “There’s no peace for the wicked, is there?”
Diego sighed sympathetically. “Reggie’s Hot-Cocoa Sense must be tingling!”
And then--
“Maaamaaaaa--”
“Welp, there’s the other one!” Diego laughed.
“Oh, god, Liv!” Taylor grunted, hauling herself from the couch. “I’ll get her. See if I can settle Reggie as well.”
She was, however, unsuccessful, and the gang were joined by Reginald and Liv for the scheduled group call.
“Happy birthday, Michelle!” they all chorused-- except for Liv, who lacked the vocabulary.
Michelle beamed. “Thank you. Apparently, doing the call before midnight is the key to not getting forgotten.”
“Jeez, one time,” Craig muttered. “And I forgot Taylor, and she was actually on that day!”
“Are we going to all count down together?” Quinn asked eagerly. “It’ll be almost like old times.”
Jake snorted. “What, and I’ll just awkwardly hang around watching when y’all are making out at midnight? Sounds fun. Really.”
“Hey,” said Taylor, grinning, “Liv will blow you a kiss, I’m sure. No one’s allowed to feel unloved.”
“Still… hard pass.”
Group video calls, Aleister had long since decided, were vastly overrated. The more domineering, outgoing personalities always took over, and those who didn’t fancy crowding around a screen were unintentionally edged out. Not Reginald, though. He was on Taylor’s lap, which was to say, in the thick of things.
“Happy birthday, ‘Chelle!” Reggie said again, for birthdays were a subject he knew enough about to confidently converse. “What’s you?”
Grace was on hand as translator. “He’s asking what number you turned today. What age are you?”
“Oh-- thanks Grace! I need to brush up my ‘toddler-ese’. I’m twenty-nine today, Reg! The same number as Daddy, I’m pretty sure.”
“Wow!” came the awed reply, as if Michelle had just told him that she was some ancient being from the dawn of time. “I’m two.”
“Being two is the best,” Raj gushed. “Make sure you live it up, dudeling.”
“I’m not ‘dudeling’, I’m Reggie!”
Aleister couldn’t help but smile. That’s my boy. More than that… Reggie was confident, even for a naturally shy boy, knowing he’d be listened to. Their odd little family could only ever raise him up. Perhaps, he thought, they’d ensure this coming year allowed more opportunities for Reggie to connect with this village; surely, Quinn and Michelle’s wedding would be the perfect excuse. By Reggie’s age, Aleister was already a lonely child, unloved and barely wanted; it would not be a repeated cycle, of that he was sure.
Countdown
Varyyn’s heartbeat quickened. He could read Diego like a book; how much this meant to him. Just a moment, commemorating another moment, but that was the moment that changed everything. Varyyn could see Diego swallow hard, nervous anticipation, exhilaration. It could be that night under the dancing lights all over again. How marvellous to have such vulnerability, to be laid bare and offer oneself in tenderness.
“It always feels important,” Diego said quietly. “I don’t want to ever not appreciate it, appreciate you.”
“Knowing you, I do not believe it is even possible.
“So, uh, happy seven years.”
“Variego forever!”
Diego giggled helplessly, but pulled himself together as Grace began the count-- with little Reginald counting down along with her.
“Ten, nine, eight….”
Liv passed out in her arms, Taylor leaned expectantly toward Estela, beside her on the couch. She mouthed an ‘I love you’, and the smile in return told her it had been heard.
“...seven, six….” Estela joined in. She shuffled even closer, so she could see every faint freckle on smattering the bridge of Taylor’s nose.
“...five, four, three….”
Watching his little boy count down the numbers on his mother’s fingers, Aleister could feel his heart swell dangerously. It was the little moments that mattered. He looked over to Taylor and Estela, whispering in the New Year so as to not wake Liv, who appeared misleadingly angelic in slumber. Then to Diego and Varyyn, who had eyes only for one another; it was their anniversary after all.
He met Grace’s eye. Lovely beyond words, bright in every sense.
“...two, one….”
“Happy New Year!” came the whispered chorus, which gave way to quiet. Varyyn cupped Diego’s smiling face and drew him into a tender kiss, which deepened as they lingered there. Estela kissed Taylor softly, gentle as necessary to not disturb the sleeping baby, then went in for another-- one for Taylor’s birthday.
“Kissy-kissy-kissy!” Reggie chortled, looking up at his parents, and watching as his father immediately flushed pink.
“Don’t mind if I do!” Grace jumped up on her tippy-toes and gave Aleister a smooch. “Happy New Year, sweetheart!”
And he had to laugh, affection bubbling up within him. He kissed Grace again, while at their feet, Reggie loudly asked why it was still dark if it was tomorrow.
“Because, my little love,” Aleister replied, “it is so very early in the morning that it is still night. And I think it’s about time we were all off to bed.” He held out his hand to his little son, then led him across the room so he could offer his other hand to Estela, who took Taylor’s hand, who took Diego’s, who took Varyyn’s, who took Grace-- completing the circle with the yawning Reggie.
Quietly, Aleister began to sing. “Should old acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind?”
The squeeze of his sister’s fingers and the knowing smile meant much. This occasion was, to her, one of hurt, but she allowed it to be something different. Something hopeful. For all of them, a year up ahead could be faced with courage and optimism, hand in hand.
“Should old acquaintance be forgot, In the days of old lang syne?”
