Abby & Her Baby Brothers
"Sweet Suffering Salazar," Abby said, flopping between her brothers on an overly fancy couch while she double-fisted flutes of champagne (the better to fortify herself with before their mother found her). "Is the brooding contagious? First this one," she nodded at Ben, "pouts all over my place of work, and now you," she eyed Laurie, "look like someone spat in your eggnog."
She took a long sip from one of her glasses. "Buck up! It's Christmas. Or was. Whatever."