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New Year’s Eve — “Midnight, Almost”
The house didn’t explode into celebration.
It hummed.
Soft lights were strung along the living room windows. The TV was on low, some countdown special no one was really watching. Outside, distant fireworks popped early—impatient people, as usual.
Ben was already half-asleep on Laura’s lap, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, thumb tucked into the corner of his mouth. Every firework made him twitch, but he didn’t wake.
Matheo was convinced he would absolutely stay awake until midnight and was proving it by bouncing between the couch and the floor, narrating his own endurance.
“I’m not tired,” he announced. “This is my strongest hour.”
Megan sat cross-legged nearby, working on a notebook labeled “2025 Goals (Draft 3)”, occasionally correcting Matheo’s understanding of time.
Leah was on the arm of the couch, hoodie pulled up, scrolling—but not scrolling fast. Listening more than she let on.
Peter stood in the kitchen doorway with two mugs—one coffee, one tea—watching the scene like it might disappear if he blinked.
Laura looked up at him. “You’re thinking too loud.”
He smiled faintly and handed her the tea. “Just… end of the year thoughts.”
She took it, leaned her head briefly against his side. “We survived.”
He nodded. “Barely. But yeah.”
From the couch, Matheo shouted, “DOES NEW YEAR MEAN WE CHANGE PERSONALITIES?”
Megan didn’t look up. “No. It means you apologize for last year’s behavior.”
Leah snorted despite herself.
The clock ticked closer to midnight.
Peter glanced around the room—at the kids, at Laura, at the quiet chaos they’d built—and felt the weight of the year settle and lift at the same time.
---
Flashback — Morning
Peter was mid-dream when something landed squarely on his chest.
“IT’S NEW YEEEEAR!”
He groaned, one arm flopping uselessly over his face. “It’s… still dark.”
Beside him, Laura made a low, displeased sound that translated loosely to this better be important.
Matheo stood on the bed, vibrating with excitement. “You said new year is special. It’s a whole new number. That means new things.”
“We just did Christmas,” Peter muttered into the pillow. “Five days ago.”
“That was last year’s presents,” Matheo said, as if explaining something painfully obvious. “This is different.”
Laura cracked one eye open. “It’s six in the morning.”
Matheo ignored her completely and grabbed both their hands. “C’mon. Kitchen. Sit.”
Against their better judgment—and because resistance was futile—they followed him down the hall, half-asleep, shuffling like ghosts themselves.
The kitchen lights clicked on.
“Sit,” Matheo ordered.
They did.
Peter blinked at the table. “Am I being arrested?”
Laura elbowed him. Hard.
Before either of them could ask another question, there was movement from the hallway.
Four small figures emerged.
All of them dressed in ghost costumes—bedsheets with uneven eye holes, some trailing a little too long.
Ben’s sheet was dragging behind him like a cape.
Megan’s had been cut with terrifying precision.
Leah’s was deliberately dramatic, flowing, arms raised slightly like she was haunting a Victorian mansion.
Matheo scrambled back into his own ghost sheet, suddenly shy.
Peter opened his mouth. “Is it Halloween—”
Laura shot him a look.
He shut up.
Laura turned back to the kids, voice gentle. “Okay. Go on.”
They hesitated.
Ben rocked on his feet.
Megan stared at the floor.
Matheo looked like he might bolt.
Then Leah stepped forward, clearing her throat theatrically.
“Ahem. Dear parents,” she began, voice rich with mock gravitas, “we present to you a gift. It is handmade. It is meaningful. It cost zero dollars. And you are legally required to appreciate it.”
Megan whispered, “That’s not how gifts work.”
Leah continued anyway. “This song represents hope. Growth. And the passage of time. Also Matheo wouldn’t stop rewriting it.”
Matheo hissed, “Leah!”
She grinned. “Take it away.”
All (softly):
New year came with sleepy eyes
Sun still hiding in the sky
But we woke up anyway
‘Cause today’s a brand new day
Ben (very proud):
New year, new cheer!
New socks, no fear!
Laura covered her mouth.
Peter is taping his knees at the beat.
Megan (beatboxing, surprisingly solid):
tss—chk—tss—chk—boom
Peter blinked. “Is she—”
Laura squeezed his knee.
Matheo & Leah (duet, unexpectedly in sync):
We grew taller, we grew loud
We made messes, made you proud
Even when the year was hard
You still loved us—every part
Ben jumped back in, off-key but earnest:
We love yooouuu!
All together:
New year here, we’re still us
Still your kids, still a fuss
Thank you for another year
Happy New Year stay right here!
Silence followed.
Peter stared.
Laura didn’t speak.
Matheo tugged at his sheet. “I… um. I made most of the lyrics. Megan fixed the timing. Leah said we needed ‘emotional stakes.’ ”
Laura stood up and hugged him.
Matheo stiffened in shock—then melted instantly, arms wrapping around her like he’d been waiting for it.
The others immediately protested.
“Hey!” Megan said.
“I helped!” Ben added.
“That’s favoritism,” Matheo accused, even as he clung to her.
Laura pulled back just long enough to gather all of them in.
Her eyes were wet.
Peter straightened. “Hey—are you—”
She laughed through it. “Tears of joy. Relax.”
She wiped her face, still smiling. “You are all… so full of talent. And life. And chaos. And I wouldn’t trade a second of it.”
Peter nodded quietly. “Yeah. What she said.”
---
Present Time
A knock echoed through the house.
Laura stood. “I’ll get it—”
“I will,” Leah said, already moving.
She opened the door—and immediately smiled.
“Gabby!”
Gabby barely had time to react before Leah hugged her tight.
“Hey, kid,” Gabby laughed, hugging back.
The others appeared behind her.
“Aunt Gabby!” Ben shouted.
Megan waved. Matheo grinned. Peter leaned against the doorway, smiling.
Laura crossed her arms, amused. “Well. Guess me wrong you managed to come.”
Gabby stepped inside, warmth filling the room. Shaking off the cold, and immediately turned toward Laura.
“Hey,” she said softly—then pulled her into a tight hug that lifted Laura’s feet just slightly off the floor.
Laura huffed. “You’re still doing that?”
“Absolutely,” Gabby replied. “You’re still short.”
Laura snorted into her shoulder, hugging back just as tightly. “You showed up early.”
“New year,” Gabby said. “Figured I’d start it right.”
She pulled back—and immediately spotted Peter leaning nearby.
Her grin went sharp.
“Wow,” she said, looking him up and down. “Still a nerd.”
Peter gasped theatrically. “Wow. Still rude.”
They hugged anyway—awkward for exactly half a second before settling into familiar comfort.
“Hey, Pete,” Gabby said. “You still teaching science like a menace to common sense?”
“Someone has to,” Peter replied. “You still punching things that deserve it?”
“Mostly things that don’t,” she said cheerfully.
Laura crossed her arms, watching them. “You two done posturing?”
Gabby smirked. “Never. That’s our love language.”
Peter smiled. “She once called me ‘string bean with anxiety’ at Thanksgiving.”
“And you deserved it,” Gabby shot back. “You explained quantum mechanics to a cat.”
“I thought he was listening.”
“He licked himself mid-sentence.”
From the hallway, Matheo whispered loudly, “I like her.”
Megan nodded. “She’s efficient.”
Ben waved. “Hi Aunt Gabby!”
Gabby waved back. “Hey, tiny ghost.”
She glanced around the room—kids, noise, warmth—then looked back at Laura and Peter.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “I picked the right time.”
And just like that, the house felt even fuller.
Leah tugged lightly at Gabby’s sleeve.
“Come on, I want to show you something.”
Gabby smiled. “Lead the way—”
“Shoes,” Peter said immediately, pointing down.
Laura chimed in without looking up, “Both of you. Shoes.”
Gabby froze, looked down at her boots, then back at Peter.
“…Wow. Listen to him. So authoritative.”
Peter crossed his arms. “House rules.”
Gabby squinted at him. “You sound like a Canadian.”
Laura slowly turned.
Gabby turned too.
They locked eyes—two women with identical how dare you expressions.
“Excuse you,” Laura said flatly.
Gabby put a hand on her chest. “I am a technical clone Canadian. That’s cultural slander.”
Peter raised both hands. “I retract nothing.”
Leah slipped her costume off quietly, already smiling.
Megan sat at the dining table with her laptop open, fingers flying. “I’m almost done,” she muttered, not even looking up. “Do not touch anything. The countdown matters.”
Leah pulled Gabby toward the hallway. “Ignore them.”
Gabby let herself be dragged, lowering her voice. “You’ve gotten taller.”
“You always say that.”
“Because you always do,” Gabby replied. “Last time I saw you, you were—what— twelve?”
Leah nodded. “Right after the trolley incident.”
Gabby softened. She rested her shoulder lightly against the wall as Leah talked—about school, about projects, about nothing and everything. They stood close, like sisters who didn’t need to fill silence, just share it.
From the living room, Peter glanced down the hall. “Those two have their own world.”
Laura smiled faintly. “They always have.”
---
As the evening wore on, the house settled.
Matheo, despite his earlier confidence, had passed out sideways on the couch before ten—one sock missing, arm dangling dramatically.
“No waking him,” Laura said immediately.
Megan nodded. “Agreed.”
The TV volume lowered. Lights dimmed.
At 11:58, Megan stood by the clock, eyes sharp. She gently nudged Frederick, who had been half-asleep under a blanket.
“Hey,” she whispered. “New year.”
Ben blinked, then smiled sleepily. “Okay.”
Matheo remained undisturbed.
Leah and Gabby sat on the floor, backs against the couch, still talking quietly.
“Ten,” Megan announced.
“Ten!” Ben echoed.
“Five,” Megan continued.
“Four… three…”
The room leaned in.
“Two…”
“ONE.”
Fireworks cracked outside. Cheers from the TV.
“Happy New Year!” Megan declared.
Ben clapped. Leah smiled. Gabby laughed softly.
Matheo cursed having missed the new year.
At 12:01, the noise faded.
Peter and Laura stood near the window, shoulder to shoulder.
They didn’t speak.
They just looked at each other—years in that glance. Exhaustion. Gratitude. Love that didn’t need ceremony.
Peter murmured, “Would you change anything?”
Laura shook her head, resting it briefly against his shoulder.
“…Nothing.”
''Agreed.''
Outside, the year turned.
Inside, everything that mattered was already there.
Whatever next year brought…
They’d face it the same way.
Together.
New Year’s Day — Morning
Kitchen. Morning light. Table half-set. The smell of pancakes.
Peter (at the stove, flipping pancakes):
Okay, rule of the morning—no arguing before syrup.
Matheo (slumped in his chair, dramatic):
I missed New Year’s. Everyone else remembers it. I remember… betrayal.
Megan (without looking up from her cereal):
You remember falling asleep on a couch with one sock. History will judge you.
Matheo:
Shut up, Megan.
Megan (smiling sweetly):
No.
Frederick [Ben] (to Gabby, animated):
—and then the T-rex has tiny arms but big teeth—
Gabby (leaning in, fascinated):
Exactly. But did you know some scientists think they had feathers?
Frederick [Ben] (eyes wide):
FEATHER DINOSAURS?!
Leah (sipping juice, nodding):
He’s been into dinosaurs all week. He corrected a museum sign.
Gabby:
That’s powerful energy, Freddie.
Frederick [Ben] (very proud):
I like the long-neck ones. They eat trees.
Matheo (to Megan):
I could’ve stayed awake. I chose not to.
Megan:
That’s called sleeping.
Matheo:
I hate this family.
Leah (without looking at them):
You’ll be over it by lunch.
Laura (half-asleep in a chair, blanket over shoulders):
Mmm… pancakes…
Peter (grinning):
See? Even unconscious, she supports the process.
Gabby (to Laura):
You good there?
Laura (eyes still closed):
If I don’t move, I can stay in yesterday.
Peter (placing plates on the table):
Breakfast is ready.
Matheo (brightening a little):
Do pancakes count as a New Year’s redo?
Megan:
No.
Frederick [Ben]:
But they are round. Like the Earth.
Gabby:
He’s got a point.
Peter:
Dinosaurs, philosophy, and sibling rivalry before nine a.m. Happy New Year, everyone.
Laura hums, smiling in her sleep as the chaos continues.
---
New Year’s Day — Later Morning
Kitchen. Breakfast mostly eaten. Plates stacked. Laura still half-asleep. Peter wiping his hands.
Peter (casual):
So… Gabby’s here.
Gabby (suspicious):
Uh-huh.
Peter:
Which means—
Laura (eyes still closed):
You’re thinking of outsourcing parenting.
Peter:
Temporarily. Strategically.
Gabby (grinning):
Oh. You want me to babysit.
Megan (immediately):
Define babysit.
Matheo:
Do we get to go outside?
Peter:
Yes.
Matheo (instantly energetic):
I LOVE AUNT GABBY.
Leah (to Gabby, dry):
You’re about to regret this.
Gabby (rolling her shoulders):
I’ve survived worse. I think.
Frederick[Ben] (tugging Gabby’s sleeve):
Can we look for dinosaur bones?
Gabby:
In the yard?
Ben (confident):
They could be anywhere.
Laura (murmuring):
Just… don’t let Matheo climb the fence.
Matheo:
I wasn’t going to—
Megan:
He was.
Peter (handing Gabby a jacket):
Rules are simple.
No injuries.
No missing children.
Minimal yelling.
Gabby:
No promises on the last one.
Leah (already grabbing her shoes):
I’ll help. Someone has to supervise the supervisor.
Gabby:
Wow. Thirteen and already judgmental.
Leah:
I learned from you.
Outside door opens.
Matheo (running out):
LAST ONE OUT IS A SLEEPYHEAD!
Megan (walking, unbothered):
Statistically inaccurate insult.
Frederick [Ben](holding Gabby’s hand):
If we find bones, they’re mine.
Gabby:
Deal, Dr. Dinosaur.
Door closes behind them.
Silence.
Peter (exhales):
…Did we just win?
Laura (finally opening her eyes):
We have at least thirty minutes.
Peter (sits beside her):
Coffee?
Laura (smiling faintly):
Yes. Happy New Year.
Outside, distant yelling.
Peter:
…Maybe twenty minutes.
Lights fade.
A/N: Happy New Year 🎉✨️