“Aw c’mon dude, it wasn’t THAT bad.”

Alphonse was stewing in the seat beside Zack Tate, his big arms crossed. The two large furs were barely able to cram themselves into two seats in the same row, even without a third passenger taking up the seat between them, and the rat’s frustration was so thick in the air it left an odor. Or maybe that was just the smell of zorilla and rat up against each other in a small airplane cabin. Either way the others on the plane were doing their best to avoid making their complaints too noticeable. They didn’t want to rile up the already angry rodent.

Finally, Alfie spoke up. “Easy f’ you t’ say, ye big tit! My first big game on the telly an’ I didn’t get piss all done! Fuckin’ Alley’s prolly watchin’ it an’ thinkin’ ‘at I’m runnin’ round wit’ me tail up me arse every game!”

The tall zorilla laughed. It was a big laugh, raspy as always, and it made his lean stomach push into his thighs thanks to being wedged in a seat made for someone half his height. “Dude, bro, for real. Ya had that kickass play, that shit was highlight material! Betcha it’ll be all over the news back home. C’mon. Can’t have ya in a bad mood goin’ into Christmas.”

Grunting, Alphonse put his head back against his seat, making the rear spikes of his mohawk crunch and fold into the material. “Yeh, ye got ‘at, mate.”

Zack’s grin widened, the image made all the more comical thanks to his lopsided face. “And hey, looked like ya were gettin’ all fired up with Scoonie. Is my li’l Arfie makin’ frieeeeends?” he teased, leaning in toward the rat and reaching up as if to pinch at Alfie’s cheeks.

Despite his best efforts to maintain his grump, Alfie let out a laugh and leaned away from Zack against the window, pushing and smacking at the zorilla’s hands. “Aw fuck off, mate! Y’ain’t me mum! Gerroff!!”

Zack kept pressing, “But I’m so proud of ya, Arf! You hardly punched any nannies! If I didn’t know better I’d think you were growin’ up!”

A hard thump of a punch to Zack’s shoulder finally got the polecat to back away, Alfie’s expression severe again. “I ain’t no nonnie-lova, mate. Just makin’ nice wit’ ‘em cuz it’s me job. At’s all.”

A light chuckle came from the zorilla, his shaggy head nodding once, knowing he shouldn’t press further. “Sure bro. Sorry, didn’t mean nothin’ by it.” He knew not to press Alfie when it came to discussions about non-rats and his relationship with them. Friends as they’d become, Zack knew well that Alphonse’s mood could flip at a moment’s notice, and with several hours of flight ahead from Alaska to Hawaii he didn’t want the remainder to be sitting next to Bad Mood Alfie.

Moments passed, zorilla and rat next to each other in silence, the latter with his arms crossed again, and the former taking a deep breath. Zack wasn’t a fan of awkward silences, and often found himself racking his brain for ways to break them.

“Hey, uh… Arfie?”

“Yeh?”

“Ya got any kinda plans for Christmas? Like… is yer fam comin’ out?”

The big rat let out a deep breath, putting his hand over his eyes. “Neh, mate. I know we’re big ol’ celebs, but… tryin’ t’ fly everyone out… just ain’t in the cards. I sent ‘em a letter to tell ‘em… feel like shite.”

Alfie’s response left Zack with a droop in his shoulders. It was true that he wasn’t making a trip to California to see his family, but they weren’t that far out, and it wasn’t hard to meet up at some point over the holidays. Alfie, with his twenty family members all the way out in Liverpool, had a much more difficult situation. He looked at his knees a minute, and Zack weighed his options.

“Hey, man.”

“What?”

Zack leaned over toward Alfie. “I know it’s rough, and this is gonna sound nuts, but hear me out…”

——————

The weekly mail in Liverpool usually came and went with little fanfare. The only member of the family who got anything worth notice was Philip, and even that was just his stack of flyers from various car companies. There was rarely any mail from the outside world that came for any of the Norwiches, but today was different. When Mr Campbell came with his delivery, sat atop the colorful advertisements was a single white envelope, addressed to the family.

“Oi!” Philip called over his shoulder. “It’s a letter from Alfie!”

The din of the Norwich house silenced for a moment, all dozen and a half rats gathering as Pip dropped down on the couch to open his letter. It wasn’t the first their older brother had sent, but each one was an event. Since the season had started, Alphonse had written a few times, regaling the family with stories about his time in America. So Philip sat and leaned back into the couch, unfolding Alfie’s letter and coughing theatrically to start reading it.

cveryone,

can’t come home for christmas. sorry.

Alphonse

Philip turned the letter over, looking at its back, as though there might be more written there. The family’s initial enthusiasm quickly petered out, the older rats exchanging awkward glances while the younger sat confused.

“But… but Alfie HAS t’ come ‘ome… dun ‘e?” Josie asked, stretched up on tiptoes to look at the letter for herself.

“Er… I guess Alfie’s… got a lot goin’ on,” Philip replied, quietly folding the paper back up and tucking it in its envelope.

With a huff, Charlotte stood up, storming out into the kitchen. “Yeh, tossin’ a ball ‘round an’ sleepin’ wit’ every girl ‘e can get ‘is paws on. No time fer ‘is family, Alphonse is too busy!” She turned the knobs of the kitchen sink, noisily gathering dishes to wash them, less concerned about the mess than with doing something to distract herself.

“PIP!!”

“Yeh, mum?”

“Boiler’s out again!”

Philip grunted and stood up. “Course it is. Why wouldn’t it be.” He nodded at a small rat sitting next to him, dragging himself back down to the basement with little Samuel scurrying along behind. Unlike Philip, Sammy enjoyed their trips downstairs.

Overall, life remained fairly simple in Toxteth, little having changed since Alphonse moved away. Occasionally Olivia or Terry would joke that they didn’t have to haul as much back from the shop and that the saved money on food was almost a gift itself, but the humor rang hollow. The truth was that without their boistrous big brother in the house, everything felt somehow quiet, even with all the other noise. Fortunately, the holidays offered a focal point, although their first as an incomplete family was less than festive.

The family sat in the living room, television tuned to the annual marathon of Christmas programming. It kept the youngest entertained and the older siblings enjoyed the tradition of it. For once, the room was fairly quiet, and not because of any tension from subjects being held just out of everyone’s mouths. Christmas Eve in the Norwich house was more placid than most of the year.

Then one rat broke the silence. “Oi, so is Bea dead yet?”

“NICK!” Olivia snapped at her younger brother, gaping at his lack of tact.

Nicholas shrugged. “Wot? Emma ain’t ‘ere, I’s just askin’!”

Seated on the chair next to the couch, Terrence reached smacked his younger brother on the back of the head. “An’ I’s just tellin’, y’ spit like ‘at again an’ it’s ye ears.” He rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Olivia. “But ye, ‘ow is Bea?”

While Nick rubbed at his head and sulked, Olivia shrugged. “Same. Em took ‘er t’ see Doc Howard but ‘e didn’t know what the problem was. Gave ‘er some drops f’ the feva, said come if she don’t improve. She’s still eatin’, so there’s a bless.”

“Oi, Liv?” squeaked up a tiny voice.

Happy for a change of subject, Olivia quickly let her attention shift to Stephan, seated on the floor next to the gap where Samuel had been. “What is it, Steph?”

The small rat looked at the television a moment, watching the cartoon characters celebrating, then turned back to his sister. “When we gonna get us a tree, eh? I mean… a real tree.”

It was a piercing question, one that had been hanging overhead since the first snowflakes fell. Pine trees in Toxteth weren’t exactly common. Years ago, when the rats had a better relationship with their non-rat neighbors, families were less hesitant to head outside the Alley to pick one up, but the practice had waned in recent times. While the oldest siblings remembered decorating actual trees, the youngest were only familiar with the artificial firs.

Which wasn’t to say the family was lacking in Christmas spirit. Artificial as it may have been, the tree propped up in the Norwich’s living room had a few homemade knicknacks and trinkets dangling from it, a few decorations they’d scrounged up. It lacked the pine smell and the sticky fingers from a real tree, but it mostly looked the part. It even helped take up some of the space that Alphonse’s absence left behind.

Still, the youngest wanted to know if they’d ever get a fresh, chopped down pine like they saw on the telly.

Olivia smiled and reached out, tweaking her brother’s ear and eliciting a squeak from the little rat. “We will, just not this year. You wanna try ’n lug one all th’ way ‘ere?”

“Alfie coulda!”

Olivia’s glance went over to Colin. It was unusual for the slight rat to chime into conversations, but when he did it was usually about Alphonse. She hummed and paused. “You think so, Colin?”

The thin boy nodded. “Uh-huh! He’d chop it down an’ carry it ‘ome all by ‘isself!” he insisted, even miming the action, to the amusement of the others.

“Well maybe so, but not this year. Maybe next year. And it’s late. Time for little rats t’ go t’ bed. Santa won’t come if y’ wake!”

Gathering up a dozen little rats who didn’t want to go to bed was something of an event all by itself. Stephan did his usual routine of scurrying here and there to try and hide until Terrance snagged him by the tail and hoisted him up to carry him upstairs. Natalie’s attempts to shepherd them all toward the stairs seemed to do more harm than good, and Nick argued that he wasn’t one of the little ones and didn’t have to go to bed yet. It wasn’t inaccurate, but the older three Norwiches and their mother really wanted a few moments to themselves. Bedtime was one of the rare times they could unwind.

Finally, all the little (and not so little) rats were gathered and up in bed, leaving Terry, Olivia, and Philip downstairs. Charlotte changed her mind about staying up any later, saying she wanted to make sure Simon was okay and that his excitement hadn’t caused him to make a mess, but the others knew it was that the news of no Alfie had left her without much enthusiasm for the holiday.

Terry sat on his chair, absent-mindedly swirling his cider around in its bottle. He’d been helping out at the Leaky Pipe in exchange for the occasional case. This one, for whatever reason, had lost its flavor.

“Can’t fuckin’ believe it,” he muttered.

Philip shrugged. “Ain’t cheap t’ get on a jet, Ter, an’ he has a couple games every week. I was lookin’ up ‘ow the pay works in ‘at FBA an’ it ain’t like he got that contract all in one sack.”

Terrance snorted. “Well tear me tail, never thought I’d see the day Philip Norwich was defendin’ his olda brotha.”

The family handyrat laughed, shaking his head once. “Not defendin’, mate. Just sayin’ I wasn’t expectin’ to see ‘im at all. Kinda surprised you lot were.”

Olivia chimed in. “Well maybe so, but it’d be nice to see him again.”

Pip held up a hand. “No fogs ‘ere, I miss the bastard sometimes, but ye gotta be realistic, Liv. Alfie’s playin’ pro ball in America. Not a good bet ‘at we’ll have ‘im home durin’ the season.”

Sighing, Olivia nodded, arms crossed over her chest. “I suppose.”

Terry lightly tapped the butt of his bottle against Olivia’s leg, nodding at the impressive stack of wrapped boxes beneath the ‘tree’. Trying to get gifts for a family of nearly two dozen was a fight, but somehow they managed to every year, even if just barely. “Th’ load looks good ‘is year, though!”

The oldest Norwich sister brightened up. “It does, dun it? Grahamory helped out a… lot more ’n I thought they would.”

Brow lifted, Philip leaned toward Olivia. “Hang on a tick, Liv. You sayin’ those gifts…”

Olivia quickly shook her head. “Oh, no! No, they’re all either homemade or bought honest. But I ‘ear the twins ‘ave been pickin’ up odd jobs, so they was puttin’ some money in the pot. Right generous, if y’ ask me.”

“Mmm, p’rhaps,” Philip replied, skeptical still. “Doesn’t mean ‘at cash isn’t d-“ he was silenced by a sharp look from his older brother. “…Er, sorry, Liv. It IS a great pile. Think the sibbies is gonna be all grins in th’ morning.”

“I certainly ‘ope so.”

Terrance changed the channel away from the cycle of the same Christmas movies and TV specials to the sports, and the three Norwiches watched for a little while, wondering if they’d catch some news about their brother. As luck would have it, they did, a highlight reel from the day before’s games showing Alfie’s one dynamic play.

“Oi, spread ‘at plague, Alfie!!” Terry whooped with a clap, immediately quieting down again with an ear perked up toward the ceiling. Fortunately, there was no extra stirring. Just the white noise of rats shifting in bed and whispering amongst themselves until they were able to drift off to sleep.

Some time passed, with more idle chatter about Alfie in Hawaii, the state of the house’s boiler, Emma staying with Trevor overnight (“Y’ know it’s just so she can give ‘im a Christmas shag,” Philip said with a laugh), and some futile needling at Olivia about what their presents were. Eventually, though, it was time for bed for the older Norwiches.

As they made their way upstairs, Philip stopped at the front door briefly.

“Oi, what’s up, Pip?”

The rat shook his head. “Oh nuffin’, Ter. Just, er… odd not ‘avin’ t’ keep one ear open f’ Alfie stumblin’ his way home afta we’re all in bed.”

Terry snickered. “An’ that’s a bad thing? Means y’ can sleep easy, eh?”

“Heh… yeh. A’right, I’m gettin’ me beauty sleep.”

“An’ ye need as much as ye can get.”

“Fuck off, Terry.”

——————

Colin was always the first one awake.

He’d never been the heaviest sleeper, but on Christmas Eve it wasn’t even accurate to say that he was “asleep”. His eyes would close and he would quiet down, but never really drift off. Colin’s ears stayed as alert as ever, picking up on the conversations around him, little noises outside, his older brothers and sister shuffling around downstairs (even later than usual). Even if he wasn’t paying close attention to every little thing, he heard them, and waited for the first peek of sunshine to let him know it was time to pop awake. And so, a single ray hitting his whiskers, little Colin quietly creeped out of bed.

Christmas morning was a magical time for Colin. As a younger pup, his older siblings had gotten annoyed with his extra-early wake time, and so Olivia would leave a peanut butter sandwich in the refrigerator, wrapped in plastic to keep it fresh, with a glass of milk. He would go into the kitchen, get his morning snack, turn on the television and get to watch what he wanted to watch with no interruption, and fantasize about what might be in all those boxes until the rest of the family started to stir.

As soon as Colin made it downstairs, though, he stopped in his tracks, staring into the living room, jaw slack.

“M… mum! MUM!!” he squeaked back up the stairwell, frantic. “Everyone! Come quick!!” Colin repeated, scrambling up the stairwell to retrieve his mother, and the rest.

Charlotte was in no mood to be woken up. “Colin, dear, y’ sammy is in th’ fridge…” she mumbled.

After some jostling and tugging, Charlotte woke up and stumbled along behind the nearly quivering Colin, the din rousing the rest. Colin led the whole family downstairs, to show them what he’d found.

The Christmas tree, the little artificial pine that Philip had called a few favors to get, was gone.

Instead stood a real, live fir tree, from nearly the floor to the ceiling, its base in an ornate tree stand. Every single one of the decorations had been transferred over, and were joined by dozens and dozens of others. Real glass globes, tinsel, bells, ceramic reindeer and Santas, shimmering garland. Beneath it all was a pile of presents that would never have fit under their old artificial tree, all wrapped up in shiny paper with bows. There were stockings for every single family member carefully tacked to the wall. Each one was full to the top.

It didn’t look like on television.

It looked better.

The Norwiches walked into their living room, all their jaws slack. Little ones scampered over to the tree, smelling it, poking at the decorations, climbing up and over the boxes. The older rats were in just as much awe, fingers poking into stockings, picking up boxes carefully, reading tags. None could believe what they were seeing.

“Uh… Olivia?” Charlotte quietly said, head turning but eyes forward. “Did you…”

Olivia shook her head. “No mum, when we went up… it was…”

“So where…”

Suddenly, a chorus of shouts came from the kitchen.

“OI, HAPPY FUCKIN’ CHRISTMAS!”

“Yo dudes, Merry Christmas!!”

The entire rat clan wheeled around, staring at the twin Santas, one they knew and one they didn’t.

“Alfie!!”

“ALFIE!!”

“Who th’ fuck is that?”

“WHAT th’ fuck is that??”

Alphonse and Zack, both dressed in Santa costumes, waded their way through the crowd, laughing and trying not to step on any tails (especially difficult for the giant zorilla). Alphonse picked up the occasional little rat and deposited him or her again, all smiles.

“Why it’s just me, Santa Claus! An’ me friend, er… Santa Claus!”

Zack had a grin just as big. “Arfie told me you guys needed a bigger Christmas! What’s bigger than two Santas, right??”

The tiniest Norwiches were agog at the presents and decorations, meanwhile the older were struck by the odd non-rat standing in front of them, none really knowing what to say. Alfie had told Zack that the family wasn’t exactly used to “nonnie” guests, but he hadn’t taken the semi-warning seriously. The awkward standoff told him that it was true. It had been years since some of them had even seen a non-rat in the flesh, and longer still since one had been in their house.

“Er… I’m Zack! Yer big bro an’ I met back at the draft.”

Nicholas wandered over, only partway awake, dressed in an old shirt and sweatpants rather than his usual “street” garb. “Oi… th’ fook izzis nonnie cummin oop eeya loik ‘e a reet Boita!”

Zack laughed and punched Nick in the shoulder playfully. “Huhuh, I think you’re rad too, little dude!!”

Olivia grabbed Alphonse by the arm and tugged him off to the side, pulling him away from the family to have a quick talk with him in the kitchen.

“Uh… Alfie? Have ye lost your mind?”

“What?”

“What d’ye mean what? What’s he doin’ here?”

Alphonse turned and looked over at Zack, who was turning into a makeshift jungle gym for the youngest ratlings. They saw him as more of a novelty than an intruder, not old enough to know about “nonnies” and specism yet. He shrugged. “Looks like ‘e’s handin’ out prezzies!”

“You KNOW what I mean, Alfie! How did you even GET him here? An’ if anyone saw you…”

“Awh, calm y’ tits, Liv. No one’s gonna look twice at a couple o’ blokes in Santa suits on Christmas. Ain’t like we was knockin’ on doors and singin’! Just popped out th’ cab an’ snuck in.”

Olivia was far from mollified. “But… how did you get all this in here? An’ how did you get in without anyone hearing? F’ that matter, how did you get in at ALL, the door’s l-“

Alphonse laughed and put his big hands on his sister’s cheeks, giving her face a playful shake. “How ‘bout we talk ‘bout that lata, an’ right now you jus’ open y’ gifts, eh?”

It was a scene out of every sappy movie. The whole family gathered around, seated on the floor and on the couch, passing presents around as each one was opened. Zack snapped pictures with his oPhone (and helped Alfie do the same) while tiny rats chewed on boxes and paper to open their gifts up and older siblings opened theirs with just as much amazement. It was the first since before they’d lost their father that the family had a true Christmas.

Each Norwich got a few generic gifts, new clothing and little toys or gadgets, plus one big present that had clearly taken a lot of thought. Terry got a shining new set of cymbals, Monica a makeup set and big Hollywood books, Josie new stuffed animals. Colin opened up his box of art supplies, leafing through books and looking at all the different pencils he’d gotten. Charlotte’s were more useful than fun, but he did surprise her with a big, framed version of Alfie’s first Christmas, the photograph taken in a studio so many years ago. Each stocking was crammed with candy and small toys, even for the older Norwiches.

“Whoa, rat dudes! Hold on!”

Everyone stopped and turned to look at Zack, who had taken his oPhone again and pulled a small portable speaker out of his pocket. Tapping on the screen a few times, the speaker sang with Christmas music, filling the house with carols.

“Okay, go ahead!”

While the presents were torn open, compared, gloated about and enjoyed, Philip sat off to the side with his arms crossed, looking surly.

“Oi, Pip, what’s got ye all nipped?”

Philip just grunted in response. Grinning ear to ear, Alphonse tossed him a tiny box. “Heads up, Pip!” he called out with a laugh. “Ye didn’t think I’d forget me favorite pain in the ass li’l brotha!”

Pip looked at his ‘present’ curiously. It was small. Impossibly small. Small enough to hide in a hand. True as it was that he and Alfie were often at odds with one another, he hadn’t expected his brother to completely pass him by when it came to a present. The rest of the family had gotten huge gifts, big boxes full of goodies, and him? A box the size of a cracker. Rolling his eyes, he opened it up.

“…Alfie?” the rat asked, looking inside, then at his brother. He plucked the present out.

A key.

Alfie nodded toward the front door, and Philip Norwich carefully stepped and clambered his way over and around the rest of the family to look outside. There, parked against the curb, was a blue 2004 Ford Transit. It had some wear and tear on it, but it was obviously well maintained. The paint was a solid coat, all the wheels had their hubcaps, the windows were intact.

Philip turned and stared at Alfie. “You… buh…”

Lifting a beer, Alphonse’s grin only widened. “Happy Christmas, Pip. Go look in th’ back.”

Olivia gaped at her older brother as Pip ran out into the cold to look at his new ride. “You didn’t.”

Alphonse chuckled. “Y’ asked how we got everythin’ here. Wasn’t gonna get all ‘at in a taxi! Managed t’ talk th’ owna down on price.”

“What’s in th’ back?”

“Eh, tossed in a toolbox. It ain’t just f’ him, Liv. Alley needs our Mr Fix-It an’ he needs tools.”

Even Charlotte couldn’t stop from smiling as she watched her boy passing out gifts, fraternizing with a… whatever his friend was. She never would have expected it out of him.

The day didn’t end there, though. After the gifts were passed out and the family satisfied (even Nick’s protests at having a nonnie in the house faded), the eldest Norwich brother waved for everyone to follow him into the kitchen. There, he’d gotten more food than even they could have possibly eaten in one meal. It wasn’t cooked yet, but it was all there. Turkey, ham, sweet potatoes, regular potatoes, a goose, stuffing, more cider, a few vegetables, pounds and pounds of it all.

Charlotte took a breath. “Well Liv, this spread won’t cook itself! You get th’ pans out, I’ll start clearin’ out th’ sink!”

Olivia watched her mother sink her paws into the dirty dishes, washing. She let out a single laugh and shook her head in amazement. “It’s a Christmas miracle,” she said simply, and started preparing dinner. Her, her mother, and her sister Natalie working together on a real, true Christmas dinner.

As soon as the meal started, the reason for the extra food became obvious. Their exotic houseguest could eat so much so quickly it was a wonder he didn’t choke to death on every bite. All the while, laughing and telling the family stories about their brother in his Southern California accent. Under other circumstances, the family would have wanted him out, or been less than comfortable with his presence, but the Christmas spirit overrode all.

The little ones especially were fascinated by Zack. His exotic coloring, his size, the way he spoke. They’d never seen anything like it, and seemed determined to explore this new arrival. All the little rats crawling on Zack did cause a problem however.

“Arfie!! Dude! Help!!!”

Alfie’s attention came away from his mother and sister in the kitchen and he looked out into the living room. There was the seven foot zorilla, squirming, laughing, trying to carefully pry little Roger and Robert off of him, along with Ben and all three triplets. Even Colin was getting in on the action. Zack, it turned out, was extremely ticklish, and that just made the “ride” even more fun for his attackers, clinging to his long limbs as he tried to bat them away.

He considered coming to Zack’s aid, but Alfie decided the show was far better, and simply sat back with his mother and siblings, watching as the tall zorilla collapsed into a fit of near giggles, trying his best to get free. The big Santa rat even managed to get a few pictures of the event, although he didn’t have a clue what to do with them after that.

The day wore into evening, and thanks to the extra early morning surprise much of the family was ready to sleep before too long. Not only that, but Alfie and Zack had to get back to the airport. A sixteen hour trip from Liverpool to Hawaii combined with the time difference meant they were cutting it close to getting back in time for their game the next night. Their sleep would be on the plane.

With hugs all around, even for Zack, the Norwiches bid farewell to the dual Santas, and made Alfie promise that they’d see him again soon. Zack even got as close to an invitation back as a non-rat could expect, that if Alfie wanted to bring him along again, they wouldn’t stop him.

It didn’t take much convincing for Philip to agree to drive Zack and Alfie to the airport, more than eager to take his present for a spin. He put the key in the ingnition and let out a sigh of satisfaction as the engine sprang to life immediately, and music played from the radio. The whole trip was a flurry of Philip’s ravings about the van, its engine, its specifications and the history of the model, right down to just how much space the back had.

Zack and Alfie, of course, were asleep for most of the drive. It had been an exhausting, and incredibly long, day for the both of them.

———————

Cleaning up after the meal was a full family affair. There were dishes and table scraps aplenty, and Olivia insisted every paw pitch in to make it go faster. The only exception was Colin, who continued to perch and doodle in his new sketchpad, watching the family as he did. Uncharacteristically, Charlotte told the little ones to go ahead and play with their new toys, she would take care of it all with Olivia. The younger Norwich girl grinned lightly while they worked.

“Well, mum?”

“Well what, Liv?”

Olivia chuckled, “Y’ still think Alfie’s doomed?”

Charlotte glanced at her daughter. “I don’t think I ever said DOOMED,” she protested, with a small huff to her voice. “But no. Looks like my li’l Alfie’s finally growing up. Only took him twenty three years.” She smiled. “I almost saw a bit o’ your father in ‘im today.”

It made Olivia smile again, her cheek muscles almost sore from how many times she had done so all day. “Just a shame Em wasn’t here t’ see him.”

“Oh she’s off with Trev’s family, an’ Alfie left some presents for them. Just might leave out that… other fellow.”

“The skunk, mum?”

“Is that what he was?”

“I think so. Course, he didn’t smell like they say skunks do.”

Charlotte snickered. “After livin’ with your brothers I think a skunk smell would be an improvement.”

Olivia laughed. “Well. Happy Christmas, mum.”

“Happy Christmas, Liv.”

Charlotte finished up her cleaning and sat in the living room, watching her children and grandchildren as they played. She’d hung up that portrait right on the living room wall, that way Alphonse III could see what his eldest son had done for them. It seemed impossible, but Alphonse Norwich IV had, for the first time in his adult life, truly done his father proud.