Secret Christmas Twins. Lee McClain Tobin

room, where Erica was sitting on the floor with the twins. “Ruth Delacroix,” he said in answer to Erica’s questioning expression. “She’s a force of nature. Prepare yourself.”

      “Good morning, everyone!” Ruth cried as she came in, giving Jason a big hug and kiss around the baby she held on one hip. Then she spun toward Erica. “And you must be Erica. Andy was telling me about you, that you’re here for a visit with some... Oh my, aren’t they adorable!”

      “Let’s sit down,” Papa suggested, “and Jason will bring us all out some coffee. Isn’t that right?”

      “Sure.” Jason didn’t mind playing host. He was glad to see his grandfather seeming a little peppier.

      When he carried a tray with coffee cups, sugar and milk into the front room, the three babies were all on the floor, and Ruth and Erica were there with them. The pine scent from the Christmas tree was strong, and the sun sparkled bright through the windows, making the ornaments glisten. Papa had turned on the radio and Christmas music poured out.

      “Mason! Stop that!” Ruth scrambled after her toddling grandbaby with more agility than Jason could muster up, most days, even though Ruth had to have thirty years on him. “He’s a handful, ever since he started to walk.”

      Teddy, not to be outdone, started scooting toward the shiny tree, and Mikey observed with round eyes, legs straight out in front of him.

      “Like I said,” Ruth continued, “I’m down a kid, so I’d be glad to watch these little sweethearts anytime you need. A couple of my regular clients are off this week and kept their little ones at home.”

      “Thanks.” Erica was dangling a toy in front of Mikey, who reached for it. “I’m not sure quite what I’ll be doing, but knowing there’s someone who could look after the twins for a few hours is wonderful. I really appreciate you thinking of it,” she added to Papa Andy.

      “No problem, sweetheart.” Papa took a small ornament off the tree and held it out to Jason. “Remember this?”

      “The lump!” Jason laughed at the misshapen clay blob. “Haven’t seen that in years. That’s my masterpiece, right?”

      “You were pretty proud of it. Insisted on hanging it in a place of honor every Christmas, at least until you turned into an embarrassed teenager. And so here it is right now.”

      Jason smiled as Papa reminisced, egged on by Ruth and Erica. This was important, and Jason was starting to realize it was what he wanted for himself. Traditions and family, carried on from generation to generation. Just because his own parents hadn’t done a good job of making a true home for him and Kimmie, that didn’t mean he had to follow their patterns. He wanted to be more like Papa.

      He had some work to do on himself first.

      While he reflected, he’d been absently watching Erica—she was easy on the eyes, for sure—so he noticed when her expression got guarded and he tuned back into the conversation.

      “What are they, seven, eight months?” Ruth was saying. “They’re big boys.”

      “They’re fifteen months,” Erica said.

      “Oh.” Ruth frowned, and then her face cleared. “Well, Mason, here, he’s real advanced. Started walking at ten months.”

      “They have some delays.” Erica picked up Mikey and held him high, then down, high, then down, jumping him until he chortled.

      Teddy did his strange little scoot crawl in their direction. Jason noticed then that Ruth’s grandson was indeed a lot more mobile than the twins, a real pro at pushing himself to his feet and toddling around.

      “Why are they delayed?” Ruth asked. “Problems at birth?”

      “You might say that.” Erica swooped Mikey down in front of his brother, and the two laughed.

      Teddy pointed at the tree. “Da-da-da-DA-da-da,” he said, leaning forward to look at Mikey.

      “Da-da-da-da-da!” Mikey waved a hand as if to agree with what his twin brother had said.

      Teddy burst out with a short laugh, and that made Mikey laugh, too.

      “Now, isn’t that cute. Twin talk.” Ruth went off into a story about some twins she’d known who had communicated together in a mysterious language all through elementary school.

      As the women got deeper into conversation about babies, Papa gestured Jason into the kitchen. He pulled a baggie from a box and started spooning baking soda into it.

      “What are you doing?”

      “You’ll see.” He tossed the baggie onto the counter and then pulled out a couple of syringes. He grabbed a spoon from the silverware drawer.

      Jason stared. “Where’d you get that stuff and what are you doing with it?”

      “From your narco kit, and it’s just a little test. You’ll see.”

      “But you can’t... That’s not—”

      “Come on, hide in the pantry!” Papa shoved Jason toward the small room just off the kitchen. “Hey, Erica, where did you put those baby snack puffs?” he called into the front room.

      There was a little murmuring between the two women as Papa hastily stepped into the pantry and edged around Jason. “Watch for anything suspicious,” he ordered.

      Helpless to stop the plan Papa had set into motion, Jason watched as Erica came into the kitchen, opened a cupboard and pulled out some kind of baby treats. Behind her, Mistletoe sat, held up a paw and cocked his head.