Chapter 1

Christmas time: roasting chestnuts, holiday cheer, people kissing under the mistletoe, and shopping for presents. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, supposedly. Unfortunately, I was stuck in rural Minnesota babysitting my sister Joy, brother Nick, and stepbrother Ethan. Picture a frosty winter wonderland, but instead of sledding or sipping hot cocoa, I was refereeing my siblings.

You can’t really call it babysitting. It’s just that I’m the oldest, technically in charge, and when my parents give us projects while they are out, they expect me to make sure it gets done. Good luck telling that to Nick and Ethan. They’ve teamed up like some dynamic duo of disaster. My parents? Oh, they just got married a few months ago, so I guess this whole “blended family” thing is still a work in progress.

Joy’s laughter echoed from the living room, where she was twirling around like some extra in a Hallmark movie, humming along to Christmas carols. She’s all soft sweaters and sugary smiles, her blonde curls bouncing as she danced to “Jingle Bell Rock.” Of course, her idea of babysitting was making TikToks in front of the tree. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as she paused to fix her lip gloss in the reflection of the ornaments. Joy’s the kind of person who can’t pass a mirror without stopping to admire herself, but you can’t really be mad at her—she’s just so ... Joy.

Joy’s younger than me, but she’s also sprouted boobs—huge floppy ones, and she loves to stuff them into a tight bra and sweater and parade around like she is so mature. I am still dealing with my tiny, puffy nipples, waiting for my boobs to finally sprout while my little sister carries more than enough for the both of us.

It’s extra depressing watching my little sister catching all the attention from older boys, while I look like a boring bookworm who keeps to herself. I need glasses; unlike Joy, my chest is small and I never need a bra for support. It’s not that I haven’t had boyfriends. I had a few back home in Chicago, and I’ve even dabbled a little with girls.

It’s easy for my flirtatious sister to meet someone; she doesn’t even have to try. My sister has never had a boyfriend. She’s had boyfriends (plural) at the same time. I don’t think she’d ever be interested in dating someone seriously or being exclusive. We share a bedroom, but we get along because of her sunny personality.

Meanwhile, Nick and Ethan huddled near the kitchen, whispering like two little gremlins plotting their next attack. My brother Nick used to be my buddy. We’d build snow forts and share gummy worms when we were younger.

However, since Ethan came along, I’ve been benched. With his mop of shaggy blonde hair and that smug little smirk, Ethan fit into our family chaos like he was born for it. Together, they were unstoppable: switching the sugar with salt, hiding my gloves, and generally making my life miserable.

Yes, my name is Mary Christmas. No, I didn’t pick it. That was all my dad’s doing. Sam Christmas, my father, thought it was hilarious to saddle me with a name people laugh at around this time of year. “Merry Christmas, Mary Christmas!”

Christmas isn’t an unheard-of last name, but often, people think I am joking when I tell them what it is. The only time I knew about it being mentioned in books or on television was a “Joe Christmas” from William Faulkner’s Light in August—a book I’ve never even read.

I love reading, or at least I did until I moved to the country—the boondocks of Northern Minnesota. We didn’t bring many of our things from our old house in Chicago. My dad traded a teaching job for the life of a park ranger after he married my mom about a month and a half earlier.

We had an instant blended family: my dad, me, Joy, my brother Nick, Holly (my new stepmom), and her son Ethan, my stepbrother.

At first, everything seemed hunky-dory among all of us, at least to me. My parents were deeply in love, and Ethan seemed charming and considerate. He and Nick hit it off, and I didn’t mind that at all. Nick looked up to Ethan, or at least that’s what I thought.

Things had begun to change with them weeks ago. Ethan and Nick started being a little rude, and Ethan encouraged Nick to do the least possible on his chores. As the oldest, I was responsible for getting things done when my parents weren’t home. We were bickering, but it all seemed normal for a new family trying to gel.

My father hated drama, and he didn’t want to hear the little details. Holly could be very old-fashioned about “boys’ work” and “women’s work.” She assigned chores traditionally, which also made me angry because I believed in equal work assignments regardless of gender. I didn’t argue with my mom about it, but I think she knew I resented it.

There would be no story to tell if it was just some growing pains while we all got to know each other. What I am about to tell you may sound like I was having a really bad day. That bad day got worse the next day, and the following days after that.

However, when I look back on that snowy December, I count this as the best and worst Christmas that I’ve ever had—certainly the most memorable. In the period leading up to my birthday (on Christmas Eve), I learned so much about myself, my family, and what we could be and do if we worked together and kept our minds.

It’s an embarrassing story to tell; when I hear myself talking about what happened in those first few weeks of December, I always blush and wonder how things all managed to work out in the end.

My parents thought it was cute, with my birthday on December 24th. It’s not. Every year, I get a combo Christmas and birthday present: “Happy Birthday! Here are your stocking stuffers.”

The snow outside sparkled like powdered sugar, and for a second, everything looked picture-perfect. But with my siblings, peace and quiet never lasted long.

Nick and Ethan’s snickers snapped me out of my thoughts; I could tell they were definitely up to something. Ethan held a bottle of dish soap while Nick pointed at the porch steps.

“What are you doing?” I asked, assuming the worst.

“Nothing,” Ethan said, his voice dripping with innocence.

Ethan and Nick wanted to take shortcuts with everything; in this case, by soaping the icy steps. The soap could cause someone to fall and crack their heads open. My father had showed us the safer method to clear the ice and snow on the patio and steps using old-fashioned elbow grease and a shovel.

Although technically I was in charge; this was their task., They seldom listened to me anyway when I told them to stop; I still had to try.

“Guys, can you just cool it until Mom and Dad get home?” I pleaded. It didn’t do much good. Nick and I used to be close, and he was never any trouble. Now that he’s with Ethan, he’s been a completely different kid.

“I’m bored; let’s play a game, Sis,” Ethan said.

I’ve accepted calling Ethan’s mother “Mom,” because she is strict and demands it. A former Marine with a sassy Texas accent, Holly has a shock of blonde hair and bright blue eyes. On the other hand, I’m still uncomfortable when Ethan calls me “Sis.” It just sounds weird. I barely knew him before the marriage, and suddenly, we were related.

“What kind of game?” Joy bounced outside. It was chilly out, snow was on the ground, and nothing to do for miles—just pine trees, rocks, and road.

Ethan’s grin widened in a way that put me on edge. “Let’s play Truth or Dare,” he said, leaning against the outside wall like he’d just come up with the greatest idea ever. He’s been suggesting naughty games since we moved here. It’s really off-putting, considering he is supposed to be my brother.

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Truth or Dare? Really?”

“Yeah, come on!” Ethan said, his eyes full of mischief. “The real version, not the baby one you probably played in middle school.”

Joy, of course, clapped her hands and squealed. “Ooh, fun! I love Truth or Dare!” She flounced over to Ethan. I could see her breath as she encouraged him.

Nick smirked. “I’m in.”

I sighed, knowing things were already spiraling out of control.

“Guys, we have to finish these chores before our parents get home. You haven’t even started shoveling the driveway, and we have cleaning and decorating for Christmas to do.”

“That can wait,” Nick insisted. It wasn’t like him to ignore instructions from our dad.

“Yeah, play the game THREE rounds, and then we’ll do everything, I swear!”

“Okay, but keep it PG, alright?”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Lame. Fine, here’s the deal. If you choose to dare, you have to follow through. Like, I dare you to streak through the yard right now.”

My mouth dropped open. “Absolutely not!” I snapped. “What is wrong with you?”

We were bundled up, except for my sister in her sweater and jeans. Earlier, I had suggested she get her gloves and jacket. In this cold, running around naked was crazy. It was too over the top, even though the road in front of our house was screened by trees, and we lived out in the country where nobody was around for miles. I just wasn’t interested in going that far.

Nick burst out laughing, and even Joy turned red, giggling into her hands. “Oh my gosh, Ethan! You can’t just dare us all to get naked and run around.”

“What? It’s just us!” Ethan said, shrugging like it was no big deal. “Come on, it’s not like anyone’s around for miles.”

I pointed a finger at him. “New rule: no dares involving nudity, public humiliation, or anything illegal. Got it?”

“I’ve got a truth for you then, Sis. You’re no fun,” Ethan groaned. He quit playing and went inside, where he and Ethan started playing Xbox and ignoring their chores.

“When Mom and Dad come home, I am going to tell them you didn’t do anything,” I insisted. “I am in charge!”

“Then you should take responsibility when we fail to meet our goals,” Ethan said.

Then I really pissed them off; I unplugged the TV and took the power cord into my room. They chased after me and pounded on my door. “Give that back; it’s not yours!”

“Do your work, and you can have it back,” I promised.

“You’re not the boss of me!” Ethan argued, and Nick agreed with him.

“I am the oldest, and our parents have put me in charge!”

Frightened, my pulse was racing. I didn’t want this kind of confrontation, and the flimsy door didn’t offer much of an obstacle. Much to my surprise, they stopped pounding and stepped away.

I assumed I had taught them a lesson. However, when I finally emerged from my room, they were actively messing up all the work Joy and I had done earlier.

“Why are you doing that?” I demanded; it was one thing to do shirk their chores, but to actively mess things up again made no sense to me.

“Play truth or dare with us, and we’ll stop.”

“I said I would, but only if it’s PG rated!”

“PG-13!” Ethan countered.

“What even IS PG-13?” Joy asked with a dumb expression.

“Boobs!” Nick said.

That was my sister’s magic word. She loved wearing tight tops to show off her big tits. I had never seen her lift her sweater and show them off. Smiling, she showed the boys her bra—exposing massive cleavage.

I was shocked. “JOY!!”

The boys were dismissive. “Who cares about some dumb old bra? We want to see your ACTUAL knockers.”

Joy started to reach behind her back to unsnap her bra. I was beyond shocked and forbid her to show them her boobs.

“Meanie Butt,” Joy seemed disappointed, but she stopped taking off the bra and covered them back up. I was flabbergasted she’d be so willing to expose herself to them.

The guys were angry with me and Joy.

“You guys are just teases pretending to be cool,” Ethan said as he went to the kitchen and started dirtying up dishes on purpose.

I tried to calm the situation and implored everyone to help me, but eventually, our parents came home.

My parents were having a good day; they had bought some presents and seemed to be in a positive mood until they noticed the work wasn’t done, and things seemed even messier than when they left.

“What happened, Mary?” Dad asked.

“Ethan and Nick didn’t do their work,” I seethed. I was enraged.

“I told YOU and Joy to clean up the front room and kitchen, but it’s sloppier now than when we left. How is that Ethan and Nick’s fault?”

I wanted to tell my father how they were going to make us play truth or dare and then actively messed things up to pressure us. I could see from the look on Ethan and Nick’s faces they were going to be even angrier if I ratted them out.

I could have handled that, but I was afraid that it would come out that my sister was going to flash her actual boobs, and I try to protect Joy whenever possible.

“She took our Xbox power cord and started acting EXACTLY like Adolf Hitler, Mom.” Ethan acted like a wounded little bird, hugging his mother.

She believed her son over me; she assumed I had antagonized him.

“Yes, they were playing games and not working, but when I took the cord they retaliated by messing things up,” I offered defensively.

“I see,” Dad didn’t like the drama. “You were in charge, Mary. I hold you accountable for what happens. It sounds like, rather than motivating and inspiring, you got into an argument, and things spiraled. Clean this mess up now.”

“Yes, Daddy!”

Ethan and Nick started acting like perfect angels; they began helping me and my sister clean the living room and kitchen.

“So, that’s it, Sam?” My mom asked my father, “No punishment?”

“What would you have me do, Holly? Spank the lot of them?”

My father has never spanked us. As for my biological mom, I almost never see her.

“Just the ringleader!” My stepmother singled me out! Her audacity stunned me. Holly’s devilish progeny instigated the whole thing. If anyone was the ringleader, it was him. He almost had my sister topless and turned my brother into a lazy hooligan!

Now he was acting like a little blonde and blue-eyed angel, offering to bring in the presents for his mom. Instead, she told him that she’d get them, because he might peek and see what she got him this year.

“I hope it’s something cool like a new Bible,” he said.

The little asshole! I couldn’t believe she didn’t see right through him. My new mom is super Christian and conservative. We believe in God, but my biological siblings and didn’t go to church before Holly. Now we go every Sunday.

I didn’t exactly get in trouble, but my mom kept staring at me intently over dinner. I felt like Ethan probably made up some story about me to make me sound even worse.

That evening, my sister and I were in bed, shivering under the covers. In backwoods Minnesota, we live in a double-wide (a manufactured home), and the heater isn’t that great. It’s much warmer in other parts of the house.

I’ve been sharing a room with Joy for most of my life, and we usually talk before falling asleep.

“Why did you stop me from showing them my boobs, Sis? I would have flashed once, and it would be done. The guys would have stopped arguing with you, and we would not have been in trouble.”

“You can’t just show boys your boobies anytime you want something?”

“Why not? They are just boobs, and if it gets me what I want, what’s the big deal?”

“What if they took pictures? Or made you show them more?”

“I would have run naked around the yard. Why not? No one was home, we don’t have neighbors, and it might have been fun. I could have hopped through the snow like a little bunny rabbit.” Joy preened and stuck out her two front teeth.

She’s a giggly optimist and adventurous. While she is chubby, she is super cute. We are very close, but we are also polar opposites in a lot of ways. I am tall, lanky, almost no boobs, a pert butt, and geeky. With my glasses, I fit the nerd stereotype.

Joy jumps into life with both feet; I am a lot more cautious and pragmatic.

The only thing we have in common physically is a slightly upturned nose that we got from our biological mother.