Seven's Fool

/lʌst/

I look at him.

In his spot, on the ground near the tree, jolly with flushed cheeks, I can almost see how his whole body is gushing with whiskey.

Nana scoops her great-grandson up and says, "alright, alright. But what do you do before you open your presents?"

George's face warmps into an annoyed frown.

"What do you mean? You just open them, dumbass! C'mon, don't waste time, old woman!" He twists and turns in her arms to get down. Then I remember that George is seven years old.

Nana gives him a slap on his arm. He freezes.

She frowns, her face in bewilderment and her voice a whisper when she asks, "where did you learn that from, George?"

The boy stares back at her. Then she looks at the man sitting on the couch. I look at my brother too.

"Beats me." He shrugs. "Must be some kids from his school he picked up from."

Her eyes go back to George. "Don't ever say that again, you understand me? Or else there won't be any presents for you to open."

The young boy's face goes into shock with disbelief and he quickly covers his mouth before nodding his head.

"Good. And you pray before opening your presents. That's how you show God that you're grateful for all that he's done and given for you."

I look at everyone in the room.

"You know the drill everyone. We're going to do a full round, starting with Hail Mary."

From behind me, he unwraps his arms to get ready to pray. Nana begins, and I watch him do the sign of the cross.

He taps his forehead, his chest, his left shoulder then his right.

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus..."

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Four hours later, we're home. The house is sleeping in the dark before I switch on the lights and walk to the kitchen, my heels clicking against the floor. Tire makes my vision bleary and eyelids heavy, with every bit of my body just begging to sink into the soft bed to get a good night's sleep. I open the cupboard to for a glass and begin to pour myself some water.

Suddenly, I find his hands rubbing out the knots of my shoulders, tenderly massaging with his fingers. I let out a sigh of content as my body starts to loosen.

"That feel good?" he asks.

I relax and close my eyes, hand putting down the jug of water. "Mm."

He travels up from my shoulders to the base of my neck and behind my ears, kneading all the tension before going down my arms. After he's done, he coils his arms around my waist once again and presses a kiss to the ball of my shoulder. He starts to run his nose up and down my throat, pushing my head to fall back onto his chest. With every bit of my skin, I feel his breath shudder each time he exhales onto my body, sending a crawl of prickles up my back.

"You looked so beautiful today," he purrs into my ear and arousal instinctively shoots to my core. Kisses are slowly pressed onto my skin.

I like when he's like this.

But then his large palms feel my hips and thighs, riding my dress up.

Now, it's up to my waist, my legs exposed to the chilly air.