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❛ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴇʏᴇꜱ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴄᴀᴘᴇʟᴡᴏᴏᴅ
ᴄʜʀɪsᴛᴍᴀs ꒱


❝ I'M THE SMART ONE ❞

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"Now you will be on your best behavior," Barron told his younger brother in an uncharacteristically stern voice. "This is Daly's and Juliet's first Christmas with us and we don't need them upset because you decided to be an asshole."

Greg gave him an affronted look. "It's not my fault people can't take the truth. I'm always on my best behavior."

"Like how you insulted our niece's best friend?" Sam piped up from where he sat with Taylor on the couch.

"He could have been up to something!"

"You certainly didn't need to say it to his face," the eldest Capelwood admonished him, "or hers for that matter. This Christmas is going to go perfectly."

"Of course it will," the lighter-haired man called over. "That's why Taylor and I are here to run damage control."

"I didn't have to be here, you know," Greg retorted. "I could have been in Russia on a business trip but you were the one who insisted I join you. If anything, whatever happens is your fault."

"And you wonder why you're alone on Christmas Eve," Barron shot back.

"I don't, actually."

Before he could respond, the intercom on the wall buzzed to alert them of their visitors. Sam stood and offered a hand to his boyfriend. "Smiles, everyone. This is supposed to be a happy occasion."

Taylor gave him a fond look. "I'm not sure if now is the best time to quote Monty Python, love."

Sam stuck his tongue out childishly at him as the quartet went to the door which opened to reveal the family's two redheads. "Merry Christmases" were exchanged all around as they greeted each other before the group migrated back to the sitting room.

"So what's the plan for today, dad?" Juliet asked as she looked around the room at the assorted Capelwoods and Kelly.

"Well, I was thinking we could introduce you to some Capelwood Christmas traditions. Our father used to throw this huge Christmas blowout but we've done away with that since we always hated it as kids. It was our mom who had most of the traditions with cutting a fresh tree, sledding down the hill and ice skating on the lake. It's so cold up here that it freezes straight to the bottom so it's perfectly safe," he answered brightly.

"What about our traditions?" Daly wondered. "We didn't go seventeen years without making our own."

"Alright," Sam said agreeably. "What are some of yours?"

"We usually spend the day watching home movies," Juliet replied, "and we make hot cocoa—"

"Hot chocolate?" Greg demanded. "That's not a Christmas drink! Everyone knows eggnog is the way to go. Spiked, preferably."

"Greg," Barron's voice held a warning tone, "there's no reason why we can't have both drinks. How would chocolate eggnog would be?"

His brother muttered something that sounded suspiciously like disgusting but he was ignored. Sam smiled encouragingly at his niece. "Anything else?"

"We usually make a Christmas ornament each year and then spend the evening at the Matthews listening to Mr. Feeny read A Christmas Carol. I also have traditional presents but they've already been taken care of."

"Traditional presents?" Taylor asked.

"Yeah." The redhead nodded. "Mostly just with Shawn but every year since I met him I've given him a book. I don't think he reads them but he's never complained so it's sort of our thing."

"Aw," Sam cooed teasingly, causing the younger girl to turn pink and glower at him.

"Shut up."

"Juliet," Daly put in reproachfully, "we don't use that language with family."

"'S alright," the man brushed it off as he waved an airy hand. "So, shall we get this party started then?"

"Sounds like a plan," Barron agreed.

🌎🌎🌎

After setting up the tree— which would be decorated later that evening— everyone was cold from being outside for so long, so they moved to the kitchen where Barron pulled out the ingredients to make hot drinks. Juliet and Daly stood waiting in the work space to help while Sam, Taylor and Greg took seats at the long island in the middle of the room.

The younger redhead accepted the milk and eggnog that was passed to her as her father asked, "so, do you like hot chocolate with milk or water?"

Immediately, she made a face. "What are you, a barbarian? Milk, obviously."

Everyone but Greg chuckled at her response. 

"Sorry, sorry," the dark-haired man said, raising his hands in self-defense. "I thought that would be the answer but I didn't want to assume."

Juliet handed the cartons to her mother who had a saucepan heating up on the stove. Barron hunted around for cocoa powder before Sam suggested he look in the pantry. He returned, successful, and handed the box to Daly with a smile. "You know, I'd like to see some of those home videos if you don't mind. I'm sure everyone else would, too."

Next to him, Sam heard his brother mumble I wouldn't count on it but thankfully his words went unheard. He spoke over the brunet: "that sounds like a great idea, Ronnie. I'd definitely like to see little Juliet."

The redhead rolled her eyes. "There's not much change between now and then. I've only gotten taller and some would say that hasn't changed either."

"Who would say that?" Taylor asked, amused.

"Shawn, probably."

"Her boyfriend," Daly teased her as she poured in the milk to bring it to a boil.

Juliet turned pink. "Mom."

"You finally asked him out then?" Sam questioned her.

"He asked me out," she corrected him. A fond smile formed on her face as she remembered how nervous he'd been as they left the restaurant.

Sam leaned over to his boyfriend and in a loud whisper, said, "she's in love."

"I am not!" the redhead protested. "We just started dating. That would be way too soon."

"Please," Daly countered. "Even I knew you two would end up together the first time he came over."

"Now I really want to see those movies," Barron commented.

🌎🌎🌎

After the hot drinks were ready, Daly went to the car to collect the videos before they went upstairs to the more comfortable "viewing room" as Barron called it, which was really just a larger version of a family room. The forty-five inch box TV stood proudly in front of a setup of couches with a coffee table in the middle where they put their various drinks.

Greg opted for the chair that was slightly separated from the group while Taylor and Sam claimed the loveseat on the opposite side which left the remaining three to take the couch. It took a moment for Barron to set up the video cassette player but a picture soon appeared on the screen.

A little Juliet, approximately age four, looked up at the camera with big blue eyes. She had caught her mid speech, her childish voice sounding high pitched: "let's take you to the store! Let-let's take you to the store."

"Darling, where's your money?" Daly's amused voice asked off-screen as the redhead bent down to pick something up.

"In-in my pocket," the girl replied and the woman let out an interested hum.

"How much do you have?"

"Eighteen monies," she responded proudly.

"Eighteen?" Daly repeated, earning a positive answer. "Wow, that's a lot! Can I borrow some?"

--

The next footage showed two children (Juliet, of course, and Shawn) walking down the street of Philadelphia as Daly presumably trailed behind them with the camera. They stopped at the street corner as cars rushed past to wait for the walk signal.

"You gotta hold my hand, Julie," Shawn said in a very serious voice. "It's accordant for crossing the street."

A look of confusion showed on the girl's face before she realized what he meant. "Important, Shawnie. Not accordant."

"Right. Hand?" He offered his own to her.

Juliet looked directly into the camera and gave the lens a humorously exasperated look for such a little girl before she took the boy's hand, rolling her eyes as she did so.

The scene cut due to Daly's editing so the trio was now outside a tall, stately building. The woman directed the camera to point downwards to show that Shawn was still holding Juliet's hand before it focused on the children. "Do you guys know where we are?"

"The Philadelphia Museum of Art!" the redhead announced confidently, though her excitement made her slur her words together.

Next to her, Shawn started laughing. "You said fart!"

She turned and huffed at him. "No I didn't. I said Museum. Of. Art." She annunciated her words very carefully before she turned back to the camera. She looked at it importantly to declare: "I'm the smart one."

"You're both very smart," Daly acknowledged. Juliet gave her a doubtful look as she turned to the still-laughing Shawn who giggled out "fart!" again.

"I don't think so, mommy."

--

Now it was Juliet behind the camera with Shawn standing in front of it, a skateboard at his feet. He'd borrowed it from Cory so they were older now. The redhead was holding the camera with surprising steadiness. "Shawnie's skateboard tricks, take one," Juliet reported dutifully. "What's the name of the trick again?"

"Pop shove it," he said as he stepped onto the board. He bent his knees and attempted to jump while flipping it up but only managed to stumble off it, making a sound of disappointment.

"You can do it!" the redhead cheered encouragingly. "Again!"

This time, he managed to flip the board in a half-circle but crashed to the ground. Shifting slightly, Juliet started over. "Take three!"

On the third try, he almost rotated it but landed on the curved lip, causing it to flip over only partially. He grumbled in annoyance. He stepped back onto the board. "Okay, take four everybody!" He didn't make the trick again and he reset the board. "Okay then, Julie. Let's try an ollie."

"You try an ollie. I'm the video person," she reminded him immediately.

"That's what I meant." Shawn turned so that his back was facing her as he got on the board and tried to flip it a round. When he wasn't successful, he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "One more."

--

Juliet was behind the camera again which was pointed at Shawn as he lay in his bed, splayed out in mock sleep (this was obvious as he was still fully-dressed.) The alarm next to him went off abruptly and the boy shot up, flailing his arms wildly. "I'm ready!" he cried dramatically before he promptly flopped back down on the bed and pretended to snore.

The redhead's giggles could be heard off screen and the camera captured the boy's lips curling into a soft, fond smile even as his eyes remained closed before the image went fuzzy.

--

"Daly's right," Barron observed after several more scenes played. "You and Shawn really are meant for each other."

"Did you see that look on his face on the third one?" Sam asked. "He was whipped even back then." Hastily he added, "I know, I know, I am too."

"You said it, not me," Taylor said with a grin. He leaned over to press a brief kiss on his cheek. "At least you're not denying it anymore."

"Public humiliation was enough to convince me I was."

"That was hardly public," the other man scoffed. "You're just a big baby."

"Am not," Sam complained. He crossed his arms and pouted.

🌎🌎🌎

Later that evening, they decided to open presents Christmas morning and spent the rest of the day making their own homemade ornaments from the supplies Barron had around the house. It wasn't much but the Capelwood girls knew how to work with what they had so the decorations turned out nicely. Then, they settled back down on the couches after the Christmas meal so Barron could read A Christmas Carol since Juliet always enjoyed it when Mr. Feeny read the story. True to form, everyone except the redhead fell asleep within the first few chapters.

"'And so Tiny Tim said 'a Merry Christmas to all; God bless us, everyone.''" Barron looked up from the book to the scene in front of him. Daly had fallen asleep with her head resting on her hand, propped up on the arm of the chair. Taylor and Sam dozed against each other with their hands clasped between them. Even Greg had nodded off in a similar position as Daly in his chair. The dark-haired man sent a questioning look to the wide-awake redhead.

Juliet nodded. "It's like this every single year. That's why I'm Mr. Feeny's favorite. I don't fall asleep during his reading."

Her father sent her an amused look. "I'm sure there's more to it than that but you're certainly my favorite for staying up."

She grinned at the wink he sent her before she stood. "I think I will go to sleep now, though. I don't want to be tired for presents tomorrow!"

The redhead approached the chair and looped her arms around the man's neck while he sat. "'Night, dad."

"Whoa, whoa, hang on. You're not getting out of goodnight that easily," Barron protested and he gently detached her arms. He stood and turned to face her so he could hug her properly.

Juliet returned the hug as she wrapped her arms around his waist and closed her eyes against the soft deep-green material of his button-up shirt, enjoying the fact that she could actually hug her father. Even now, when he'd been around for more than a year, she still tried to remind herself not to take his presence for granted and to remember how often she'd longed for this relationship.

🌎🌎🌎

Christmas morning dawned bright and sunny in a way that had the light reflecting off the white snow that blanketed the ground. In other words, a perfect hallmark Christmas card. The family met in the kitchen for a breakfast of French toast before they sat down by the tree that had been placed opposite of the sitting area. Sam reluctantly woke Greg (who'd been left in his chair overnight) so they could include him in the festivities.

The youngest brother remained remarkably un-Grinch-like and even dutifully participated in gift-giving. Juliet received a collection of books from everyone in her family and she teased them that they'd gone the "easy route" since everyone knew she liked that present. Out of all the presents she received, though, her favorite was (perhaps obviously) from Shawn.

After the earrings from last year, she wasn't sure what direction he would go next but it had, perhaps, been even more touching than the jewelry.

🌎🌎🌎
[December 20th]

Shawn walked Juliet home from school and the pair stopped before they were in view of the Matthews' home so they wouldn't have any onlookers for their traditional exchange. The redhead released her boyfriend's (her boyfriend!) hand and opened her backpack to withdraw a very book-shaped present.

"Let me guess," Shawn said. "A book?"

"You got it!" she exclaimed cheerfully. She gave him a bright smile that made his expression soften. "Remember, don't open it until Christmas Day, okay?"

"I promise, Julie," he replied, rolling his eyes only because she'd already made him promise three times.

"You better not cheat," she huffed as she zipped her bag up.

"I won't," he insisted before he shifted with sudden nervousness. "I, uh, got you something too."

"You didn't have to do that."

"Yeah I did. This is our first year as a couple, Julie. I wouldn't let that go," he told her before he opened his jacket and took out a wrapped, slightly wrinkled package and handed it to her. "Uh, here."

Juliet smiled at his abrupt tone and accepted the gift. She was about to slide it into her bag before she paused. "Did you want me to open it now?"

The boy scratched his fingers through his hair, looking undecided. "Uh, if you want to."

"It's your present," the redhead urged. "I can wait if you want me to."

Shawn hesitated a moment before he nodded. "Um, yeah. I do want you to. Open it, that is."

She gave him an amused look at his uncharacteristic discomfort and swore that she saw his face tint pink as he avoided her gaze. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," Juliet countered lightly before she turned her attention to the package. It did look suspiciously rectangular. The redhead neatly opened the gift and her eyes widened slightly at the title: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.

"I hope you haven't read it yet," he started awkwardly as he tugged on the sleeve of his leather jacket. "It came out this summer so I wasn't sure but—" He was cut off by his girlfriend throwing her arms around him. He could feel the cover of the book press against his back as she continued to hold on to it even as she hugged him. Smiling slightly, he returned the gesture and buried his face in her hair. "You like it, then?"

"I love it," she breathed in reply, more touched than she could say that he returned their yearly tradition.

[written may 2021]
[edited may 2022]