Misha glared at his cell phone, his eyes locked onto the big, bold date on the screen.
It was already Christmas Eve.
"What did the poor phone do to you?" Masha teased, appearing behind the sofa and propping her chin on his head, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Has Gabriel not answered your text message yet?"
"No, no, he did." Misha tried to swat his sister away, but without much success. "He said they're going to be a bit late for supper, but not by much."
Gabriel and Jake were overwhelmed by work to the point where only hearing a few snippets of their workload had been enough to give Misha nightmares.
Apparently, uprooting the corrupt idiots in the company wasn't as easy as it seemed, as the workers' rights made it hard to fire someone without a proper reason. Although… These morons were always more than happy to provide a reasonable excuse to get their ass kicked out sooner rather than later. Some still hadn't caught on to the fact that Gabriel wasn't a puppet without a brain, and were still eagerly tempting fate, believing the young, inexperienced man wouldn't realize something was amiss.
Needless to say, whenever Gabriel or Jake brought up what one of these idiots had done, it often left Misha speechless.
But the employees weren't the worst. The brothers also had to handle relatives who couldn't care less about their existence until their parents' deaths, becoming leeches after the funerals. These hyenas were trying their best to influence Tristan and create a rift between him and his brothers, just to gain custody and get their hands on a part of the Laflamme's fortune.
How utterly stupid.
Being young didn't mean the boy was dumb. Misha wondered how long it was going to take for these dumbfucks to realize it.
"Misha!" His mother's voice snatched him out of his thoughts. "Would you mind helping me with the turkey? I also can't seem to get that broth right…"
"Coming!"
This time, Masha released him, albeit reluctantly. Misha pretended not to see the pout on her lips and went into the kitchen to help his mother prepare supper. Things were still a little awkward between them, but he could feel his mother was doing her best to make amends, so he decided to put the pettiness to rest for the time being.
It might be because of the first timeline, where he had grown without his mother, but she was one of the few people he couldn't hold a grudge against, or at least not for very long.
"Mom…" Misha had difficulty not laughing once he was in the kitchen. No wonder his mother had difficulty preparing dinner. The ordinarily neat and organized kitchen was a mess, letting him know just how stressed his mother was about today's supper. She usually wasn't, but it seemed like the thought of receiving her kids' lovers in due form for Christmas Eve was stretching her nerves taut.
"Calm down," Misha said as he rushed to catch a bottle of spice that his mother knocked over, catching it in the nick of time. "Gabriel and Yuki love your cooking. Jake and Tristan, too. Stop stressing."
"I know!" His mother nibbled her lips, rubbing her neck. "It's just that…"
The sentence was left unfinished, and Misha completed the unsaid words in his mind. He had forgotten how anxious his mother could get, and he wasn't sure how to handle it. So, he went with the blunt truth.
"Look, if I'm not holding a grudge, then they certainly won't either." Misha shrugged. Among everyone in the group, he was definitely the most vindictive one.
"Yes, but, you know?" His mother lowered her eyes, refusing to meet his, even as he bent over and craned his neck to force their gazes to meet—as an adult, Misha was now two heads taller than his mother, and today more than ever, she appeared awfully small in his eyes. "I did a really bad first impression as a mother-in-law."
The guilt in his mother's voice made Misha pause, then he playfully tucked out his tongue.
"Neither Gabriel nor Yuki is the kind to let it get to their heads. Seriously, stop worrying and get your hands moving. We don't have all afternoon." Misha stalled mid-movement. "Oh, yeah, mind if Stephan comes over too?"
"Well, no, not really…" His mother cast him a suspicious glance, and Misha's smile grew wider.
"The poor guy's been pinning for Jake for years," Misha winked at his mother's flabbergasted face, "and I feel like playing cupid today. Or more like, Jake is gonna overwork himself to death if he doesn't get a partner to regulate his schedule for him soon."
"…Is he that much of a workaholic?" His mother frowned. "It didn't seem that bad from what I've seen."
Of course, it didn't seem too bad to you. I've prohibited reading reports during dinners, duh! And Jake's persona had still been up in front of his parents, just in case. Now that he didn't need to keep up the charade, Misha had a hunch his workaholic tendency was going to show a lot more. But for now, he had to make his point come across.
"Well, Dad is lazy in comparison."
His mother choked on air, an incredulous look on her face. Misha waved it away and started to organize the kitchen counter a little. In a way, his father was also married to his work, even having an office at home to take care of some documents outside of work hours.
A snort left Misha. He couldn't comprehend either Jake or his father; no way in hell would he ever end up like them! Not even over his dead body!
***
Jake closed the file, pinching the bridge of his nose as he rested his eye for a moment. It felt like it was burning. Maybe he had exaggerated a little bit today, but he wanted to get this done before the Christmas dinner at the Lesskov's.
"You look tired," Tristan said in a small voice, as if afraid speaking too loudly would give him a headache. The boy was sitting on his left, looking at him with worry.
"How many times must I tell you not to read while in the car?" Gabriel threw him a glance through the rear mirror, sitting in the driver's seat. "It's bad for your eyesight. You only have one eye left, so you should take care of it."
Cocking an eyebrow, Jake gave his brother a deadpan glare. This guy wasn't any better, often working late into the night, and making it up by drinking a few espresso shots in the morning. It was the pot calling the kettle black, but there was no point in bringing it up. Instead, he concentrated on his little brother, who was much cuter than Gabriel.
"How have your nights been lately?"
Tristan blinked at the question before smiling sweetly.
"They're so quiet it feels strange, like something is missing. Weirdly enough, I haven't had a single dream about Pierrot's memories since the fire." Tristan paused, a pensive look flashing across his face. "Well, I don't dream much nowadays, too, but I did have a pleasant dream a month ago or so."
From the corner of his eye, Jake noticed Gabriel's jaw tighten in the mirror, a discreet frown creasing his brow.
Did something happen…?
"Anyway!" Tristan bounced on his seat. "Do you think Pierrot is finally, truly out of our lives? Things have been going so well lately… It's almost scary."
In a way, the thought that his little brother could finally breathe freely and feel truly at ease only after his parents died left a bitter taste in his mouth. But Jake decided to ignore the feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach. It was normal for things to feel out of touch when they had grown used to being in a constant state of alertness. He knew it would take time for their nerves to fully relax.
It had taken him years in his past lives.
"…No one knows for sure," Jake offered a small smile to his brother, "but I hope he won't ever reappear."
That damned ghost of his past should stay in the past and not meddle in their future anymore. Pierrot had already meddled enough for a lifetime or two. Why? Jake didn't know, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He had a hunch he wouldn't love what the man had to say.
A deep breath, and Jake chased the thought away.
The car jolted as it entered the driveway. Peering outside the window, he could see Misha's face plastered against the living room's window, his nostrils in full-blown view as his nose was flattened against the glass. Masha wasn't any better, either. In the background, he thought he saw a familiar face, too.
What is Stephan doing here…? Although his inner voice was exasperated, a faint smile still slipped onto his lips.
For now, he had other things to think about. It had been a long time since he last had a warm Christmas Eve. These past few years with Angela and his snobby, greedy relatives hadn't exactly been what he would call joyful. No, it was like navigating a den of vipers.
Thank God, he didn't need to pretend anymore and could call those family parties off.
Jake closed his eye for an instant, allowing himself to think of his past lives with his wife and children. Even if he could never have those raucous Christmas Eves again, he had hope that the next few years would be full of laughter and oh-so-tender moments, now that what had to be dealt with had been dealt with.