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Authors note
Hi, guys. I'm not dead!
I know I probably should have waited to post this, but I've got to at least get it out there. With that said, I hope you enjoy my story!
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"It's Christmas, huh? Season of hope, season of miracles."
"Season of forgiveness too,"
"Exactly. The season of-"
Lincoln Loud turned the radio off, not wanting to hear any more of the podcast he set to play. He'd been driving for hours, having just landed at Pearson Field in Washington. He was shaking through the entire drive. He gripped the steering wheel of the rental car tight, but that didn't seem to help.
The morning was hazy, white, pending with an incoming snowstorm. Particles of frost in the air. Lincoln stared at the house, eyes bulging at the site. He killed the car engine, and wrestled with his seatbelt, freeing himself from the hold. Then pushed out the car and stuffled across the street. Lincoln knees were rickety, weak.
This was huge.
"It's okay, you can do this." Lincoln said to himself, breath leaving his mouth in a thin could. He jammed his finger into the doorbell.
The doorbell rang.
High-pitched yapping sounded after the chime of the bell. The bark of a Maltese dog.
It was a long wait.
Long because Lynn was injured, of course. Lincoln predicted she was upstairs, maybe still in bed, wondering who the hell was knocking on her door this early in the morning. And long because the anticipation was a bitch.
Footsteps sounded behind the door.
"Hush, Oscar. Quiet. Hey, get down from there! Relax. Relax."
Her voice.
Lincoln's heart was on the verge of self-destruction.
Lincoln traded one last look at his car before the door pulled open.
Lynn Loud grunted, heaving the door open. It was tricky with one arm holding a small puppy and one leg unable to support her completely.
She froze in place, lips parting, soft brown eyes studying the presence of the man. Her brother.
The eyes blinked. Almost wondering if he was a figment of her imagination and he'd disappear if she looked away.
Oscar the Maltese squirmed out of her loose grip and ran around by her bare feet. Barking like crazy.
As freezing as the air was, Lincoln felt warm. As biting the breeze was, his entire figure had gone rigid and still with Lynn's. Too still. Too quiet.
...
Lincoln was the first to speak. "Hey, Lynn."
Lynn's lip trembled, which she prevented by pressing them together tight. She took a wobbly step forward; well-built arms open wide. She enclosed Lincoln in a tight yet tender hug. Lincoln held her back, crushing his older sister in a grasp like never before. Lynn sniffed on her brother's shoulder, and Lincoln could feel the cotton material wetting by helpless tears.
"Hey, Linc," she croaked, voice already broken.
Lincoln pressed a hand on the small of Lynn's back. "Miss me?"
"Of course I did, holy hell… this is…oh my god." she said, and rushed into his arms again. Securing herself on her good leg, she rocked with him, crushing him in a hold. "Damn, Lincoln. It's good to see you." She drew out of the hug.
"Hell yeah," Lincoln said, he was tired from his reunion already. Tired, overwhelmed, happy. "Mind If I come in? I'm freezing my ass off out here.
"Yeah, of course. Sorry if it's messy. I really wasn't expecting anyone to stop by."
Lincoln trailed a limping Lynn through the spacious foyer into a polished living room warmed by a crackling fireplace. Since the fire was active, Lincoln was relieved to think he hadn't woken Lynn up with his surprise arrival. A Macho Man poster hanged to the far wall, along with a shelf of various other sports. Oscar had calmed down a bit since he came in. He hoped on one of the couches, spin in circles, then laid down into a fluffy ball.
"Let me make you some coffee. Or hot chocolate. It seems like the right day for it."
"You need help?" Lincoln said, noticing Lynn's sluggardly steps towards the kitchen.
"Nah, I'm getting more used to it. I need to keep it up if I wanna get my strength back."
"You're sure?"
"I insist. Thanks though."
Lincoln would be there anyway. Just in case. He moved into the kitchen behind Lynn. Christmas music playing from her phone, plugged into a speaker to boost the sound.
Lincoln felt pity. Big house, injured performer. All alone at Christmas time. At least she had Oscar- and now, Lincoln.
"Just let me help you," he said.
"Fine."
Lincoln gathered the needed ingredients for Lynn's hot chocolate anyway. Lynn whisked together the right amount of cocoa powder, sugar, and salt. He measured out the water and added it into the bowl, then Lynn continued stirring. "Uh, thanks," she said softly, like she was embarrassed to be thankful for help.
"This is like, old-old-fashioned hot chocolate," Lincoln said. "Almost from scratch. Did you make the powder yourself outback?"
"I can cook, but I'm not a wizard."
"What's hot chocolate without marshmallows?" Lincoln says as he tugged on the pantry doors, finding a bag.
"Like pizza without pepperoni. Good, but it could be a lot better."
"Or home without you," Lincoln said.
"Wow. Way to make it sappy in here, Linc."
But Lynn was looking over Lincoln, smiling. Lincoln smiled back. God, had he missed her.
He feasted on a handful of marshmallows. Lynn had to take the bag away from him, to preserve some for actual drinks. They added milk after a while, they stirred to a brew, then it was finished.
Lincoln helped hold the cups steady as Lynn filled each one with the sweet, hot drink. "Don't burn your tongue, alright?"
Lincoln scoffed. "Yeah, that does sound like something I'd do."
They loaded their cups with mini-marshmallows. He stayed by Lynn's side on the walk- ehh trudge- back into the living room. It pained Lincoln to see her moving like this. So hurt. So restricted in everything she did now. Lynn Loud wasn't used to that lifestyle. It must have been aggravating. He couldn't even imagine.
Lincoln sat down, by the sleeping puppy.
It was quiet. The Christmas music was nearly inaudible from the kitchen. Lynn sipped her drink. Her eyes were on the soft, squishy carpet beneath her feet. She was dressed like she hadn't been out of the house: workout shorts, a loose t-shirt, no socks.
Quiet. Too quiet, again.
Reality was setting in.
Making hot chocolate had been a tender moment. Now reality wanted to kick down the door, and slap both of them in the face.
Everything that was happening… was really happening. The past hurt. The present sucked. But Lincoln had found a way to alleviate some of the pain. Some.
"...I still can't believe you came all this way," Lynn said, "My mind is blown."
Quietness.
"Are you happy to see me?.." Lincoln knew the answer, or he thought he did, but he wanted to hear it.
…
"I couldn't be happier."
His balloon of anxiety popped.
"...I was nervous about it. Didn't think you'd want much to do with me," he picked a marshmallow out of his cup and plopped it into his mouth.
Lynn looked touched. "I'm sorry you were worried about it. If I'd known, I would have told you…" she licked her lips, placing the cup to her mouth. "Shit, I'd probably would have been nervous, too. I wouldn't have known how to react. I'm kinda glad you surprised me. That way I had no choice but to accept it. And yeah, right now, I'm happy. This feels...good, nice."
"It does. And it should. We're family, "Lincoln said. "It doesn't just go away. It feels like nothing changed."
"But things have," she gazed at him with sad eyes. "Lincoln, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I did. I was an ass. I messed up. There was no good reason to leave everyone behind, without a second thought...I wasn't aware back then that a stupid wrestling tournament wasn't worth the value of my brother."
Lincoln had no words. He sipped his drink.
Oscar woke up, yawned, a trotted onto his lap.
"I was stupid, I was an idiot, I was selfish, and yeah, I was a weasel. But you've got to know something. It's not who I am. I was willing to do whatever it takes, but I'm not that person. Especially looking back on it now...I don't even know who that was. I was- "
"Stop," Lincoln demanded. His voice was guff. The glow of the warming fire lit his face.
"I'm sorry. But know it, Linc. Believe it. Please. I'm sorry."
"I believe you," Lincoln said, voice barely over a whisper.
…
"And Lincoln, I'm not asking you to forgive me, alright? I'm not expecting it at all. I know you're a great guy, but you were hurt. I hurt you. I understand what I did."
…
They listened the fireplace cracking for a few minutes. Oscar's gentle snoring.
…
"I'm not going to say I forgive you, because it's Christmas time and 'tis the season and all that stupid shit." Lincoln interrupted himself with a long drink of hot chocolate. "I'm not going to say I forgive you because you're limping. I see you in pain, and it breaks my heart. Nor because I'm so happy, you have no idea how much I missed you. Nope, when I say I forgive you, it will be because I really do. No emotional compromise. No fluffy feelings to encourage me."
Lynn leaned back in her chair. Her messy hair fell in strands over her face. "I understand. I do. I might hear it someday."
"Not might. You will. When it's time."
"Absolutely."
It was quiet again.
But the silence isn't awkward. It isn't edgy or tense or uncomfortable. In the moment, it was Christmas time and it and great. They were siblings again. Together again. Lynn was far more relaxed. And Lincoln seemed a little better after his spiel.
Peace. Peaceful.
It physically hurt for him to say this: "I better get going. My flights gonna take off soon." he said, softly. "But let me do you a favor and get these dishes cleared, huh?"
"It's not necessary-" Lynn tired, but Lincoln was already in the kitchen. They rinsed the cups and utensils used to prepare the best hot chocolate Lincoln had ever had, then dispensed them in the dishwasher.
"Damn, I missed you," Lynn told him from the doorway. "I miss everyone."
"Focus less of missing us and more on getting that knee rested, okay?"
It made her smile.
She limped him to the door. "I can't thank you enough for coming by, this was honestly the best present I could have gotten this year. Or any year."
She pulled the door open, ushering in a morning draft. "And be careful out there, okay? Don't crash the car. Don't freeze to death."
"Ditto," Lincoln said.
"Bye...thanks again."
…
He smiled. "Merry Christmas, Lynn."
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Sorry if this was bad. I tried to make something warm for the holiday. I know Lynn is OOC (maybe) but I tried to make it as a real person would react to this. Anyways, review and favorite. Its means a lot.