The Very First Webber-Eppes Family Christmas (Patreon)

A oneshot for our March/April winner CallieQ! Happy Birthday, Callie!

“My family is flying out for Christmas.”

Don looked from his newspaper, not finding anything of interest in the sports section anyway. Faith sat on the couch, legs curled up under her as she kept her eyes on the academic journals she was using for some research paper she was doing. Something about the efficiency of different solar panel options (he remembered her mentioning stained glass that could be used as solar panels, which sounded like something out of Star Trek). She was clearly nervous about what she’d said, though, if she didn’t even bother to look at him when she said it. He glanced over at Charlie, who was on the floor, grading papers, and his father, who also had his attention pulled from the paper. Both of them were staring at Faith, which only seemed to make her squirm -- trying to shimmy back farther into the couch cushions like a rabbit into its burrow.

“Oh?” was all Don said in response.

“Yeah,” Faith said, twiddling her blue highlighter between her fingers in an obvious nervous tick. “Normally I’d fly out to them, or we’d go down and see my brother in Florida and go to Disney. But they want to see what California is like since both me and my sister are out here. But she still lives in the dorms...so I’m the one who has to host.”

Alan squinted at her in his typical fatherly concern. “But do you even have room to host anyone?”

Faith sighed, rolling her head back (and everyone winced at the loud crack sound that occured as her neck popped). “No. At least, not that many people. It’ll be my mom, my dad, my brother and sister, and my grandma too. We could maybe have my sister over for a few days, but we don’t have the room to have the rest of them over.”

“Yeah, they’d have to rent out a couple of hotel rooms to hold that many people,” Don agreed. “Maybe if they had come out while you were still working on your Masters’ and living out of that rent house you could have had them at least over for dinner but...wait. Do they know we live together?”

Faith deliberately didn’t look at him as she answered with a long, drawn out, and sheepish “No?”

Charlie snorted when Don made a noise of feigned offense, earning both of them a capped highlighter hurled at them. Charlie ducked. Don caught the highlighter chucked his way with minimal effort. 

“You could have them over here,” Alan offered, settling back into his chair and flipping the page of his newspaper.

“I love how you’re always offering up my house,” Charlie said sarcastically. 

“I love how when it was my house it was constantly full of chalk dust and whiteboards,” Alan returned. 

“I couldn’t do that,” Faith insisted. “It’s your house, and it’s not like you were going to celebrate Christmas anyway.”

“No, but if Donnie ever gets off his ass and marries you, we’ll be celebrating it,” Alan said. “So we might as well start now.” 

“Dad, c’mon!” Don shouted, embarrassed. 

Alan ignored his son, leaning towards Faith and giving her the Serious and Supportive Dad Voice. “You bring your family over here for Christmas. If you’re able to put up with both my sons, you’re basically family anyways. And that makes your family our family, too.”

Faith smiled sheepishly. “Remember that after you’ve met my grandma.” 

Faith peeked out the window, immediately pulling back behind the curtains as her father stepped out of the driver’s side of the car. She turned back to Don and Charlie, smiling to hide her nervous excitement -- it didn’t work.

“They’re here,” she said. “Is everything ready? Where’s your dad?”

“In the kitchen, don’t worry,” Don said, reaching out to pull Faith into a side hug. “Everything will be fine. We got the live tree and everything.”

“You only got a live one because you didn’t want it to take up room in the garage after this,” Faith reminded him testily. 

Don gave her a crooked grin. “Your point?” 

Before Faith could argue, there was a knock at the door. She pulled away from Don, fussing with her hair for a moment before stepping forward to open the door. She greeted the group on the doorstep with a cheer, almost immediately getting pulled into a hug by her mother. 

“Merry Christmas! Come in, come in!” She said, holding the door open as her family filed in. “Everyone, this is Don, and his brother Charlie. Charlie has been super nice to let us use his house for Christmas.” 

“What happened to that Granger boy you were telling us about at Easter?” a thin, sharp voice asked from the back of the pack. “I liked him; he was a good Christian young man.” 

Faith winced, and Don was starting to understand why she’d mentioned her grandmother like she was a warning. She shut the door and quickly moved to Don’s side, as if signalling her new loyalties. 

“Mom, don’t be rude,” Faith’s father warned. He turned, smiling brightly and holding out his hand. “Joseph Webber. You’ll have to excuse my mother, she’s lost some of her manners with age.”

Grandma Webber made a noise of disapproval, eying the Eppes brothers like one eyed an apple in search of bruises. She was ignored by the rest of the family, who greeted Charlie and Don with enthusiasm. 

“Your house is lovely, Charlie,” Faith’s mother tittered. “Thank you for letting us celebrate with you this year. I’m Ruth.” 

“It was my dad’s idea,” Charlie said in a light, joking manner. “It was his house long before it was mine, and he seems to forget it’s not still his.”

Ruth giggled. “And where is your father? I hope you didn’t exile him in retribution.” 

Charlie laughed politely. “Oh, no. He’s just in the kitchen. I’m surprised he hasn’t popped out with food yet.” 

“Was simply waiting for my cue,” Alan said, coming through the swinging door with a plate of All Too Traditional Christmas cookies in hand. 

“Mr. Eppes, this is my mom and dad,” Faith introduced. “And this is my brother Ben, and my sister Hope. And, of course, my grandma…”

“Faith, please, introduce him properly,” Grandma Webber snipped. “His name is Benevolence.” 

Ben looked to the sky as if pleading for whatever powers that be to strike him down there and then. “Please call me Ben.” 

“I can’t believe you’re so embarrassed by your own name,” Grandma Webber huffed, crossing her arms. “I named you myself, you know! Are you embarrassed by me?”

“Grandma, can we not do this again?” Hope pleaded.

“I think I’m going to go back into the kitchen,” Alan muttered, setting the cookies down on the dining table before retreating. 

“How did you two meet?” Joseph asked, desperate to change the subject and redirect his mother. 

Don smiled lazily, and Faith felt better hiding in his radiating confidence. “It’s a funny story actually. How much do you know about her run in with Andrew Weaver?”

Slowly, as Don regaled them with the long, detailed story of Faith’s stalker -- with Charlie, Faith, and even Alan interjecting with details or side stories every so often -- the group migrated to the living room. Don and Faith sat on the couch, Faith curled up into Don’s side as the rest of them settled, pulling chairs from the dining room to accommodate everyone. Even Grandma Webber was captivated by the tale, her eyes narrowed as she parsed over every detail and twist. 

“--and by the time we got up there, Faith was standing over the guy with a baseball bat that I’d totally forgotten was even in that room,” Don concluded. “Didn’t even need me to do anything.”

“Well, I needed you to cart him off to jail,” Faith corrected. “And also to help me get through the absolute panic attack.” 

“Well, yeah,” Don said, turning to press a kiss to Faith’s hair. “But I like the ending that makes you look braver.” 

Before Faith could respond, Grandma Webber cleared her throat. Faith stiffened, squeezing Don’s hand just a little tighter, as she waited for whatever judgement her grandmother was about to pass down. 

To her surprise -- and the surprise of the rest of the Webber family -- her grandmother smiled. She reached over and patted Don on the arm, her thing, boney fingers giving it a squeeze. 

“You’re alright, lad,” she said approvingly. “You’re alright.”