Lost and Found Pieces 2

Like he hadn’t been enough for his mother…
Aiden blinked at the realization, suddenly aware they were still sitting in the car in the lot. It was the time of season for family, and he was beginning to see that his lack of family was directly impacting his current life. Aiden shook his head, smiling crookedly. “I love you,” he told her, leaning over to press a kiss to her lips. “Let’s go see those damn kids, as John likes to say.”
Angela seemed a little bemused by his change of direction, but she smiled and reached for her coffee cup. “I think he uses a different word, but yeah, let’s go.”
* * *
Shannon opened the door with a harried smile, trying to keep one of the twins in with one hand while she opened the door with the other. “Come on in,” she said, swinging the boy up into her arms as she backed away.
“Dane!” the boy squealed, arms outstretched for his uncle.
Aiden dropped the oversized Christmas gift bag just inside the door. “Hello, Wyatt, my man. How the heck are you?”
Wyatt launched into a spate of chatter, patting him on the cheeks. His dark hair was slicked down on one side, like he’d gotten food in it or something and Shannon had slicked a towel through it to clean it. The baby’s cheeks were rosy with health and his pale gray eyes were clear.
“I don’t know how you tell them apart so easily,” Shannon murmured, hands on hips.
Aiden looked at her. “You can’t tell them apart?” he asked curiously.
“Well of course I can,” she huffed, “but most people can’t.”
Aiden quirked a brow at her. “I’m not most people.”
Shannon went around him to hug Angela, pulling her inside the house and closing the door. “I know you’re not,” she laughed. “How are you, Angela? Catch any bad guys recently?”
“Of course,” she murmured, leaning into the hug. “But they’re all very considerately taking a break for Christmas, letting us lowly cops have a break.”
Shannon snorted. “Right…”
John rolled into the room from the kitchen, the second twin wrapped around his neck like a monkey. The little boy tried to lunge off John’s lap when he saw his favorite aunt and uncle at the door. The wheelchair ran into the couch as John struggled to stay balanced with the boy trying to climb down. The child landed on his feet with a thump and took off, his little legs churning toward his uncle.
“Just so you know,” John growled, “they wouldn’t take their afternoon nap because they heard us talking about you coming over. It’s been ‘Dane and Angel’ all day.”
Aiden laughed even as he leaned down to catch a hurtling Caden. “Hey, wild man!”
Hoisting both boys into his arms he tried to follow their gibberish conversations. Every once in a while, he would catch a recognizable word and he would repeat it. Shannon probably understood what they were saying better than he did, but he caught the gist of what they wanted. “You want to show me the tree?”
The Christmas tree had a place of pride right in front of the main window, six feet tall, at least. It was decorated beautifully with colored lights and a profusion of ornaments, although there seemed to be less ornaments on the bottom. Had the boys rearranged?
Aiden set them on the floor and they each took a hand, leading him toward the tree. “Hey, John,” he said, laughing as he was towed across the room, past his brother.
“Hey, ‘Dane’,” John snorted, cocking an arm over the back of the chair.
Aiden knelt down beside the boys and looked at the ornaments, his attention caught by one in particular. It had the Navy SEAL crest on it, and his name in gilt along the bottom. His throat tightened as he looked at every individual letter of his name. Then he reached out and ran his thumb over the blue globe.
The boys’ chatter faded as he looked over the rest of the tree. It was beautiful. He’d been around Christmas trees before, but none had had his name on them, even when he was little. If his mother had decorated, he certainly didn’t remember it, and the orphanage had been too poor. They might have had a tree and he might have gotten a present, but it had surely been a generic boy gift, probably donated or handed down.
Nodding to the boys, distracted, he looked around the room. Shannon had decorated the house and tree beautifully, but that tiny little detail, that ornament, made it feel more like a home to him than anything else. He looked at Shannon. She stood with her hand on John’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he told her, but she shook her head, nodding her chin at John. “He did it. Not me.”
Aiden looked at John, and there was an understanding there that very few people in the entire world would get.
Wyatt turned his head forcefully to look at him. Aiden grinned as the boy told him something and Aiden felt the emotion more than the spoken words. He reached out and hugged the little man who looked so much like his big brother. Aiden expected him to wiggle away, but he let Aiden hold him for several long seconds before being distracted by his brother.
Angela brought the present bags toward the tree, distracting the boys even more. At eighteen months old, they were very pleasure driven. Everything was supposed to make them happy, or they objected. And now, as Shannon told them they couldn’t open the bags yet, they yowled.
“After dinner,” she said firmly.
Angela had brought a broccoli casserole. She disappeared into the kitchen with Shannon, leaving John and Aiden to watch the boys.
“It’s a little weird, isn’t it?” John asked him, sitting back in the chair as the boys played on the floor.
“What?” Aiden asked.
“Real life.”
Aiden laughed, feeling exposed, but nodded. “Very. I’m trying to be all cool and sh-crap,” he changed quickly, glancing at the boys, “but the holidays put me