Ripper Christmas - 1. Christmas Eve

“Heavens, but she’s beautiful.” Jack Liston held Liebe against his chest with a hand; the other one he used to wipe away errant tears with the handkerchief Owen handed him. CJ used his phone to record the man’s initial meeting with his great-granddaughter. “Thank you for bringing her to Australia.”

Following CJ’s graduation from Georgetown University, he and Owen embarked on a new adventure: fatherhood. Even with the help of CJ’s grandmother as a live-in nanny, the couple struggled to find balance between family, work, and friends. Their social life diminished, their frequent forays to New York City all but disappeared, and their motorcycles sat unridden for weeks at a time.

“Liebe, look at me.” CJ attracted his daughter’s attention. “You too, Jack. Let me get a picture.” Switching modes on the phone, CJ snapped a couple of shots before he resumed filming. “Those are going to look really cute.”

They had taken one trip in early July, flying to Milwaukee for a visit to the Harley-Davidson Museum. Their friend, Harley Wilkinson, and his family had purchased a decorative rivet to commemorate the birth of Elizabeth Liston Abelló. Liebe would one day see it on the same plaza where a similar one celebrating her fathers’ wedding was, also a present from the Wilkinsons.

The trip to Wisconsin preceded a conference Owen was required to attend for the Nature Conservancy, his employer. After a day in Milwaukee, they rented a Harley-Davidson Ultra Limited motorcycle and rode through Wisconsin’s heartland to Minnesota. While Owen remained in Minneapolis for his meetings, CJ returned to Washington to coordinate the move into their house in the Capitol Hill neighborhood.

“My turn, Jack. Hand her over.” Spencer, Owen’s brother, had waited patiently while the Liston patriarch held her first. “She looks so much like Liz.”

The fleeting sadness in Owen’s expression mirrored Spencer’s. Their sister had died from cancer three years before. Prior to chemotherapy treatment, Liz had eggs frozen and bequeathed them to CJ and Owen. Using CJ’s sperm, Liebe was conceived.

“She does.” Owen nodded vigorously. “But she has a lot of CJ in her too. Look at the size of that nose.”

CJ could not resist the opportunity. “Hell, we already started a savings account to pay for rhinoplasty.”

While the brothers and their grandfather chuckled, Pamela Liston was not amused. “You men are all the same. I can’t believe you’re making fun of her, and she’s only eight months old.” When her granddaughter was born, Owen’s mother had flown to Washington and spent as much time as she could with the newborn. “Her nose’s just fine. As a matter of fact, she’s perfect!”

“Somebody get me a bucket?” CJ took a step away from his mother-in-law anticipating her reaction. “I think I’m gonna barf.”

Pam’s stare would have withered lesser men. When her sons again laughed, both received equal treatment. Owen tried to mollify her. “Mum, we hear the same stuff from CJ’s side of the family all the time. We’re kinda tired of it. She’s definitely not perfect.”

“Ceesh. Agua.” Liebe had apparently tired of her uncle and reached for her father.

Spencer looked surprised as he handed her over. “Did she just call you by your first name and ask for water?”

“Yeah… Oz, wanna get her sippy cup out of the diaper bag?” Owen’s middle name was Zachary. Days after arriving in the United States, one of CJ’s friends started calling him Oh Zee. He claimed since César Marcos Abelló, Jr. went by CJ, it was appropriate the newcomer should have a similar nickname. Oh Zee soon became Ozzie, and CJ often shortened it to Oz.

“What diaper bag? I don’t see one.” Pam stared at the two black-leather backpacks the couple had carried in and the matching duffle and garment bags.

“It’s the larger rucksack, Mum. We decided to repurpose it since we have a few of them.”

“But there’s so many pretty bags in the shops. Maybe we can get you one before you fly back. Something with pink flowers would be cute for a little girl.”

“Hell no, Mum. We got a couple of proper ones as presents and donated them to a shelter for abused women. We’re fine with what we have. We meant what we said before. No pink. We’re not forcing any silly gender stereotypes on her.”

CJ noticed Pam did not look happy and sought to distract her. “Anyway, Spence, her first words, in order, were Aba, Osh, Ceesh, and agua.” CJ grinned at his brother-in-law. “She’s added a couple more since then. Maybe we’ll try and get her to learn your name this trip. Whenever we video call, my brother tries to get her to say Ritch. Hasn’t worked so far. Maybe you’ll have better luck. She should definitely learn both her uncles’ names.”

“And you don’t mind her calling people by their first name? Don’t you want her to call you guys dad, daddy, or something like that?” Spencer tickled his niece under her chin, eliciting happy gurgles from the girl.

“Nope. We don’t use or allow baby talk. We talk to her as we would an adult. Her calling us by our name fits. I read using normal language accelerates their speech. And for the record, Aba’s short for abuela. I called my grandmother that when I couldn’t say the full word. It stuck. My brother called her the same thing. And since she takes care of Liebe and spends the most time with her…”

“The two of you are very strange parents. I noticed CJ called his fathers Brett and César most of the time when I was in Washington. I don’t think I’d like my sons calling me Pam.”

“Don’t worry, Mum. Spence and I only do that when you’re not around.” The grin on Owen’s face did not please his mother; she scowled again.

“Here! Give me the cup and my granddaughter. I’ll take care of her. Spencer, help them carry the luggage to their room.” She pointed at CJ and Owen while taking a breath. “You two make sure the crib we borrowed’s proper. Then try on your outfits to make sure everything’s fine. Jack, please get me a room-temperature bottle of water.”

Owen’s stare flickered between his mother, brother, and husband. Shaking his head, he picked up the two backpacks and walked away in silence. CJ and Spencer followed with the remaining pieces. Once out of hearing, Owen nudged his brother. “What’s with her? I’ve never heard her be so bossy.”

“Oh, she’s been a proper cunt for a few weeks, I’d say.” Spencer glanced back for a moment when CJ guffawed. “Mostly my fault, I admit. She keeps coming up with all these ideas we don’t like, and I tell her to fuck off.”

“Spencer!”

“Don’t Spencer me. You and CJ were bloody lucky. She was 15,000 kilometers away and couldn’t interfere with your wedding plans.”

CJ felt bad for his brother-in-law. “I guess you’re getting the brunt of it. How’s Tilda dealing with her?”

“Not a problem at all. I promised her I would handle my mother. After the first time Mum made a scene, I told her if she had any more ideas she had to run them by me first.”

“Bet that went over well.”

“Shit, CJ, the tirade went on so long I lost it. Told her to go fuck herself. That she was uninvited. And that we might just run off to Sydney and get married there instead of doing it here.”

“Ouch! And your dad?”

“He took over then. Forced us to sit at the kitchen bench and listen. He explained to Mum we were adults and it was our wedding. If she couldn’t respect that, she shouldn’t bother attending whatever we did. He made me promise I wouldn’t reject anything Mum suggested outright. I had to wait at least a day and preferably discuss it with Tilda.”

“Smart man, your father. Okay, let’s look at the crib and then we can check out the skirts.”

“They’re not skirts, you bloody Yank!”

In contrast to CJ and Owen’s nuptials, Spencer and Tilda opted for a nighttime, formal event. A constant flow of e-mails and photos, a Scottish shop in Alexandria, Virginia, and The Men’s Shop at Neiman Marcus allowed the American couple to cobble together most of the required items. CJ was uncertain when he would again wear Scottish Highland Dress, but he insisted on buying the components instead of renting.

Hanging the garment bag on the closet door, CJ methodically extracted its contents. “Let me tell you something, Spence. As a kid growing up in the middle of Miami’s Cuban community, wearing all this stuff’s the last thing I would have thought of.”

“You should have seen him at the shop.” Owen chuckled and shook his head. “After your e-mails, CJ hit Wikipedia and a bunch of other websites. He talked Mr. MacDughlas’ ear off. That’s the store’s owner.”

“Hey! I did not!” CJ appeared aggrieved. “At least I sounded like I knew what I was talking about. I told him the groom would be in classic Prince Charlie formal wear with the rest of the family men in formal Argyle.”

“That’s when I lost it, Spence.” Owen’s laughter made it difficult to get the words out. “The guy asked CJ where in Scotland his family hailed from.”

CJ slapped the back of his husband’s head. “Your asshole brother shouted out ‘Havana!’ which thoroughly confused the man.”

“But you’re a stickler about pronouncing your last name properly. Didn’t he figure out Abelló’s a Spanish name?”

“We booked the appointment under Liston. He had no clue.” Owen unlaced his sneakers and kicked them off before unbuttoning and dropping his jeans. “Anyway, wanna bring in the kilts? Let’s make sure everything looks good before we show Mum.”

CJ celebrating his birthday 30,000 feet in the air was nothing new. It had happened before when traveling to Australia in December. Although it was a day after his twenty-third, Pam Liston had planned on a family dinner and a cake. When told CJ and Owen intended to dine with the rest of the wedding party at a pub, she was not pleased. CJ wisely stayed out of the ensuing argument and allowed his husband and brother-in-law to handle their mother.

“Sorry we’re a little late. Mum acted up again right before we left.” Spencer wrapped an arm around Tilda’s waist and kissed her cheek. The three men had met the rest of their group outside the Australia Hotel. “I swear I’m going to kill that woman.”

“Oh, hush. You’re too hard on her.” Tilda managed to wiggle out of her fiancé’s grasp to hug CJ and Owen. “It’s so good to see you again! Thank you for coming. I’m so excited you’re here.”

“Yeah, right. As if we would miss it.” CJ and Owen had planned on the trip since the previous year when Spencer asked Tilda to marry him. They had been on Times Square on New Year’s Eve, and the proposal had made the celebration that much more special. CJ allowed the bride to slip an arm through his and nodded at the others standing around them. “You gonna introduce us, or do I have to do it myself?”

Spencer spoke before anyone else could. “Everybody, this is CJ, and the blond’s my brother, Owen. Let’s get inside, grab a pint, and we’ll do proper intros then.”

Owen was his brother’s best man with CJ the lone groomsman. Tilda had not wanted a large wedding party; her sister, Margot would be her matron of honor and the sole bridesmaid was her best friend, Alexandra Wilson. “Call me Alex,” she told the Americans when introduced.

Christopher, Tilda’s brother and Alexandra’s boyfriend, and Lachlan Taylor, Margot’s husband, filled out the table.

After completing introductions and ordering a round, Tilda took control of the conversation. “I’m dying to meet Liebe! The pictures you guys have shared aren’t enough. She looks adorable.”

“She is!” Spencer’s enthusiasm made CJ and Owen grin. “She stared at me with those big, blue eyes when I held her, and I was in love. Sorry, Tilda.”

“You’re just like all men. A pretty young thing comes up, bats her eyes at you, and you get all distracted.” Margot’s comment elicited chuckles all around. “We get to meet her tomorrow, right?”

Owen passed his phone over to the sisters; the Liebe album had more pictures than any other. “There’s recent pictures of her in there.”

“How old is she?”

“Eight months. As of two days ago.”

“Oh, so she’s not talking or anything yet.”

“You kidding? She inherited her father’s gift of gab. She has about half-a-dozen words she uses. Liebe may end up talking more than CJ.”

“Asshole…”

Tilda turned the phone around for a moment. “Who’s the giant holding her?”

“Lincoln. He’s an FBI agent we met when a building inspector tried to blackmail us. CJ and I liked the guy, and we’ve hung out with him a lot since then. That picture was taken about a month ago. Right before he moved.”

“So, he’s not in Washington any longer?”

“Nope. He’s now attached to the US embassy in Mexico City.” CJ drained the remainder of his beer and looked for their server to order more drinks. “Ozzie and I hope we can go visit him next year. It all depends on where the hell the State Department sends me.”

“Are you guys ready to order food?” Spencer pointed at the menu scribbled on a chalkboard. “By the way, what are you going to do with the house when you go overseas?”

“Their place’s gorgeous,” Tilda repeated the comment she had made while in Washington. “Big, old house. We saw it before they did any work, but their plans sounded great.”

“Give me my phone back one second.” Owen tapped the screen a couple of times and returned it to Tilda. “There’s a bunch of house pictures in that album. Inside and out.”

“Oh, wow. Who are all those people?”

CJ craned his head and glanced at the screen. “Friends and neighbors. We moved in mid-July, and we wanted to have a housewarming party. It happened over Labor Day Weekend—”

“That’s celebrated the first Monday in September in the US,” Owen said.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Sometimes I forget we have different holidays. Anyway, we invited all our friends and everyone living on our block. The place was full most of the day.”

“The caterer fired up the giant barbie around noon and didn’t stop cooking until it was almost dark.”

“Caterer?” Chris seemed confused. “You hired someone to cook?”

“And to serve, mix drinks, and clean after. CJ’s a damn good cook, but neither one of us could have handled feeding a couple hundred people.”

“A couple hundred?” Chris now sounded surprised. “Crap. That’s more people than there’ll be at the wedding. It must have cost a fortune.”

Spencer shook his head. “Not a problem for them, Chris. Didn’t your sister tell you my brother married a millionaire?”

“You’re an asshole.” CJ did not sound pleased.

“CJ’s right, Spence. You’re a bloody, flaming, ass. I thought you knew better than to bring money up.”

“Don’t look at me. Chris started it. You guys are rich and neither one of you has any problem spending.” Spencer cocked an eyebrow at his brother and grinned. “I remember talking to you about CJ after his first visit to Australia. Didn’t you complain about him showing off by trying to pay for everything? My how things have changed.”

“Really?” An obviously interested Tilda asked. “I haven’t heard that story.”

While Owen recounted their meeting seven years before, CJ leaned back in the chair and brought the glass to his lips. It was a pleasure listening to his husband explain how they ended up together. It had not been smooth at the beginning. His smile grew as he realized how at peace, how comfortable he felt surrounded by mostly strangers. His ease in dealing with the unknown and new people was not the cause. It was the realization that in the Hunter Valley, family enveloped him. If they lived closer, Spencer would already be a full-fledged member of The Squad. He liked his Australia peeps. That he had chosen the right man to marry was a given; getting such great in-laws was but icing.

Tilda flipped the phone around to show her brother a picture. “That’s the front entrance. You should have seen it before they started renovations. The brickwork was a mess. I told them you would have been perfect to do the work.”

Chris grabbed the phone and splayed his fingers over the screen. “It looks pretty good. How old and how big is the place?”

“It was built in 1896. When CJ and I bought it, nothing had been done to it in like fifty years.”

“The house’s listed on the National Historic Register. The neighborhood’s close to the US Capitol, and most houses are attached to their neighbors. One reason Ozzie and I liked it was this one was different. It’s the tallest one on the block. It’s on a double lot, so we have a large courtyard on one side, and there’s an alley on the other one.”

“Because of the historical designation, we can’t change the outside appearance. Most of the work we did was inside.” Owen leaned over and swiped the screen until he reached a section with images of the master suite. “We’ll have the entire top floor for ourselves once we move Liebe to a room on another one.”

“Mate, the house’s huge!” Spencer’s comment had Tilda nodding. “Four levels, plus a basement. You have pictures of the wine cellar?”

“Yeah, scroll through, and you’ll find them.”

“So, you have the biggest house on the block, and you did lots of work. How much did you guys spend on the place?” Apparently, Chris was not letting the financial comments die.

“You’re such a wanker. Didn’t they just say they don’t like to discuss money?” Taylor reached for the phone. “Give. Margot and I want to see.”

Conversation over the meal revolved around plans for Christmas the next day and the wedding on Saturday. Tilda, Margot, and Alexandra planned on spending that morning at a spa; Chris and Taylor were banned from the Linsay home and would hang out with the groom and the visitors at the winery. The five men and the remainder of the Liston clan would travel together to the church.

It was close to midnight when they returned home. Liebe slept in the crib with the monitor attached to the railing. CJ assumed Pam had the receiver in her room so he turned it off. No need for her to wake up in the middle of the night if the baby cried. Her fathers were there to care for their daughter.