Kylie Bray (Love, Hate and Billions) novel Chapter 24

Christmas in Liston Hills is the time of remembering who we are, appreciating the life we get to live every day. In my home, it is the only time of the year that the Bray and Stones are all in one place. Papa however is not. He doesn't do family stuff or any social scene unless it pertains to work. He used to but not anymore.

My family and friends of the family are all over the place- the Stones, Brays, Orniels, and even the Delroy's. The house is now decked with FESTIVE decorations. There is no mistaking what holiday we are celebrating.

Mistletoe's hanging on white and gold chains suspended from the ceilings.

Two Christmas trees competing to almost three meters in height taking up the big guest hall that's catered for the occasion. Tables surrounding the walls filled with ginger biscuits, tarts, Christmas cakes, puddings, biscotti’s, cookies, you think it and I'm sure it is there.

Distant cousins, nieces and nephews, playing hide 'n seek, running in between the older one's legs, trying to get the perfect hiding spot.

My aunts running around like they did when I was younger, screaming for some silence. What they don't realize is that they make more noise than the kids.

The older crowd, mostly the men, stand around the television area, discussing stocks, bets, playoffs, and business. Their Cuban cigars filling the air, while they puff and laugh in those ridiculous jerseys, except the few that are still wearing suits.

All in all, A typical Christmas eve at The Estate.

I walk down the hall, toward the main kitchen in the back of the first floor, with the empty blue plastic bowl mama asked me to get from the pantry outside, ignoring David and Diamond's bickering happening in one of the art rooms I pass.

The SMELL of roast turkey, beef, and the assortment of food that mama shoved in the oven twenty-odd minutes ago wafts through the air, getting my taste buds wet, reminding me that I haven't even eaten breakfast yet.

We spent the morning from four preparing for Christmas lunch and dinner. It is the only time in the year mama cooks. My smaller sister Victoria or Rae as we love to call her and I were tasked with the job of salads and cutting the veggies.

Last year mama's sisters came to help, making all this work a lot less.

This year there were only the three of us prepping the meals.

The Estate is currently occupying at least sixty guests.

Cooking a meal to feed two hundred should come with catering, but mama insists. She started prepping two weeks in advance and it is still a workload of a dozen people.

Family started arriving from nine last night and were still arriving this morning, Texas time. We're lucky that we have three industrial ovens to do the meals or else we would be royally screwed. I personally hate cooking. If it was up to me, the only cooking I would be doing is with my fingers on my phone burning through takeaway menus.

By the deep frown set on Victoria's forehead, I am certain she is thinking the same thing.

Victoria is the youngest of the Stone siblings, mama's baby, and my youngest sister. Mama wanted to have another girl, but couldn't have any more kids the normal way, so somehow they got themselves a surrogate to carry Rae.

I send my sister my retribution look, raised eyebrows and a tight jaw as I watch her freckled cheeks widen in a big ass grin.

“I am pretty darn old Kylie and I don't understand either, so please do tell your mama the difference between seeing someone and dating them?”

Mama has now stopped what she's doing and is looking at me.

I stare at her for three seconds before lifting my head toward the ceiling.

Why can't the white chandelier just fall on me and save me from this conversation? It isn’t going to end well.

This is my mama, if she didn't like something, then she didn’t like it, period. There is no changing her mind.

I groan, turning back to my task, adding balsamic vinegar to the salad dressing I'm making, “It means I'm keeping my options open mama.”

“Kylie Bray, you are turning out as bad as your older brothers. It will be nice if one of my children would just settle down. David doesn't know the meaning of settle, he can't even choose who he wants to date on a Monday.

Michael is too busy perfecting the term perfect and with his new like for those busty blondes I don't want him to settle right now. I want grandchildren not a brothel.