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After a blissful hour spent lying flat with my eyes closed, drifting on dreams of gingerbread, I drag myself from bed fully prepared to spend the remainder of the afternoon baking.

“Guys!  Who wants to help me make the Christmas cookie dough?”

Alastair suddenly appears before me like a speeding bullet.  “Me!  Are we going to make gingerbread cookies too?”

“Absolutely!” I respond with glee.  “I love gingerbread men.”

“And women!” Janna asserts from the doorway to her bedroom.

“And houses!” Alastair adds.

“Actually, the houses are the best.”  I glance at Janna.  “Where’s Lyric?”

“Not in my bedroom, Mother,” her voice is lower than normal.

“‘Mother?’”  I cross the hallway and place the back of my hand against her forehead.  “Are you feeling all right?  You never call me Mother.”

She harrumphs.  “Lyric had to pick Melody up from a music lesson.  He’ll be back soon.”

I start giggling.  “Melody had a music lesson?”

Janna rolls her eyes at me.

“Sorry, it’s never gonna get old,” I say annoyingly.  “Where’s Emmie?”

“Right here,” she speaks from behind Janna.

I quirk my right eyebrow.  “And Kookie?”

“Beating Everett and Abs at Shadow,” Alastair supplies.

“Was he beating you too?” I ask as I stare down at my little cutie pie.  I reach out to ruffle his dark hair.  I slide my fingers through it, drawing it out of his eyes.

He grins suddenly.  “Nope!  I wasn’t playing.  I’m ready to make cookies!”

I glance up at the girls.  “How about you two?”

“Sure,” replies Emmie.  As she moves into the hallway, I can see her peeking into Kookie’s room.  She spies him sitting on his bed, game controller in hand.

“Sorry, Emmie.  He’s in a parallel universe right now.  There’s no getting his attention,” I murmur quietly.

But Kookie proves me wrong as his eyes dart over to her face.  So I decide to question my adorable oldest.  “Kookie, did you find the cream of tartar?”

“Yep.  It’s on the island.”  His eyes have already returned to his game.

“And are you planning to make cookies with us?”

“Nope,” comes his soft voice.  “You know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen?”

“Oh,” I respond flippantly.  “You mean the one about only the cooks – or should I say Kookies? – in the kitchen get to sample the cookie dough?  Or eat the first batch of cookies hot out of the oven?”

He frowns.  “That’s not the saying.”  He heaves a deep sigh.  “I’m coming.”  Then he puts his game face back on and is dragged into his game world once again.

I lean towards Emmie.  “At least, he surfaced long enough to look at us.”

“And to speak,” Janna points out.  “Don’t forget that monumental happening.  JK the Gamer speaks.”

I glance at her sharply.  “Why did you just call him JK?”

She shrugs.  “I don’t know.  His initials are J and K.”

Eerie.  That’s what this is.  Eerie.

We head to the kitchen.  Eventually, I’m surrounded by seven kids.  All with various amounts of flour dusting their shirts.  Or their faces.  I glance at my younger twins as a chuckle escapes me.  Somewhere along the line, Alastair wiped a streak of the white powder across his left cheek, and Abner has a matching one dusting his right cheek.  They are definitely mirror images today.  

Everett and Noel are standing at the table working on cutting out a batch of gingerbread houses and placing them on a cookie sheet.  Emmie, Janna, and Kookie have just finished making the butter cookie dough. They’re wrapping it in plastic wrap before putting it in the fridge to chill.  

As the oven timer dings to signal the end of the gingerbread kids’ bake time, the doorbell sings.  Janna’s face lights up.  

“Lyric is back!”  She disappears into the living room.  

I check on the cookies quickly.  They’re done, so I remove them and place the pan on the already crowded stovetop.  

“Time to frost the first batch!” I announce.  Glancing over at Alastair and Abner, I instruct them to put all the cooled gingerbread girls and boys onto our extra cookie sheets and carry them to the dining room.  I begin to move bowls of colored icing to our big, family-sized table.  

“Kookie, can you and Emmie bring the trays of gingerbread men?” I call.

But my attention is caught by Janna and Lyric.  They’re standing by the front door.  Speaking seriously in low voices.  Something doesn’t feel quite right.  Distracted now, I wander towards them.  But I still can’t hear anything.

Lyric’s face looks pinched.  So does Janna’s.  And her brow is furrowed.  They’re not standing very close to each other anymore.  She says something.  He shakes his head as a pained expression floods his face.  Then he turns towards the door.  Janna is standing straight as a board.  Something is definitely not right here.

What’s going on?

“Mom?” Kookie speaks into my ear a moment later.  

I jump.  A mile high.  I had no idea he was so close to me.  “Hmm?” I ask, not glancing at him.

“Do you want us to bring all the cooled cookies out to this table?”

I nod.  “A tray for each person.  There’s eight of us, I guess?  It doesn’t look like Lyric will be joining us.”

As I say this, Janna turns around and rushes off to her room.  Lyric glances up at me before opening the front door and exiting the house without one word to me.  But I’m too nosy to let things lie.  I go after him.