Just like every year Sharon Raydor nurses her glass of Moscato wine and examines the frozen, naked turkey in front of her. She never knows why she does this. It would be much easier just to buy one. This year was different though. It is Rusty's first Christmas and she wants it to count for him. Picking up the paper provided with the turkey on how to prepare it, she sets the glass down and bites the corner of her lip.

Rusty smiles at the decorations as he enters from his bedroom, "You know, you really didn't have to get me a stocking...or put my name on it." He laughs a little, going to the kitchen, "What are you doing?"

"You wouldn't happen to know how to cook a turkey, would you?" She glances to him, a nervous expression covering her face.

"Not off hand, but I'm sure it's not hard to figure out. I know it takes a long time." He nods, moving closer to it and slapping a hand against it, "It's still frozen."

"I just removed it from the freezer ten minutes ago."

"When are people supposed to get here?" Rusty raises an eyebrow.

"It's only my children...and maybe Jack. I told him he was more than welcome. I hate when he has no place to go for the holidays." Sharon nods, picking up her glass to take another sip before placing it back down, offering him the paper in her hand, "Here, see if you can make any sense of this."

"When are people showing up?" He asks again.

She shrugs, "Could be a couple hours, could be ten minutes. It always varies with this family." She smirks, "You are the fortunate one. No need to travel. You are already here. While attempting to work out the best way to cook a frozen turkey-"

"You should have soaked it in brine overnight to thaw it. This isn't going to be ready." Rusty shakes his head.

"Well, we can do that. This isn't a one day thing, Rusty. Why do you think I went out of my way to see if there were holes in the inflatable mattresses?"

"Because your kids like to drink and they may need to spend the night?"

She raises an eyebrow, "That's only part of it." She sighs, "I know my son will be staying over, possibly my daughter...hopefully. I haven't seen her since Easter."

"At all? You haven't talked on the phone?" He looks to her.

"Occasionally. My daughter is knee deep in her studies. Honestly, I don't ask many questions for fear she will hang up on me." Sharon smirks, watching her foster son as she takes another sip of her wine.

"Do you, um..." Rusty folds the paper up, putting it on the countertop, "Do you think they'll like me?"

"Oh honey." She shakes her head, moving to him and wrapping her arms around him, "Rusty, regardless of what my children think of you, it will not change my opinion of you. You're an intelligent and creative young man...I will always care very deeply for you. Nothing will ever change that."

"So...that's a no."

Sharon looks at him above her reading glasses, "I can't speak for my children."

Rusty nods, "I guess I can understand that." He licks his lips, "So, I'm going to look up the best way to brine a turkey and maybe it will be ready to cook by tomorrow."

She chuckles, "Thank you, Rusty." She picks her head up at the sound of the buzzer to her condo blares through the establishment like a fog horn, "Let's see who that may be." She places the glass back on the counter, adjusting her black cardigan near her neck. She glances through the peep hole and lets out an exasperated sigh before swinging opening the door, "Jack." She steps aside, a wave of her hand motions for him to enter.

The gruff tallish man steps through the doorway, a few festive gift bags hang from his fingers and a tan field jacket around his back, "Sharon, Thank you for the invitation." Jackson Raydor smirks to his estranged wife, leaning in and kissing her cheek. He picks his head up, "And you must be Rusty."

Rusty doesn't say anything, not too keen on anyone else being in the condo with exception of he and Sharon. It ruined his balance. He stands straighter, looking at the man. His gaze turns to Sharon, motioning to her husband, "You're married to that?"

Sharon smirks, closing the door and following behind the man, taking Rusty's wrist and offering a smile to Jack, "Excuse us a moment." She leans the teenager to his room, "You cannot do that."

"I can't do what? He looks like someone you'd lock your car door if they came to close. In fact, I'm not entirely sure he hasn't and you haven't." Rusty watches her.

"You can't be so rude, Rusty."

"I don't know him." He offers a reason.

"Exactly. You can't be rude to people you don't know. It leaves them with an impression that you're a...that you're a smartass." Sharon nods, whispering toward the end.

"What? Me?" Rusty feigns horror, "How could they possibly think that?"

"Funny. Now, if you want people to like you...you have to show the smallest scrap of compassion. You have to be cordial."

"Fine." He sighs, "Do you have a bucket for this stupid turkey?"

"You haven't even looked at the computer-"

He holds up his phone, smiling a little, "I think I might have this covered."

"You're welcome to whatever we have. I don't believe there is a store open-"

"Sharon, it's Christmas Eve. A lot of places are open." He nods, "I'll go and-"

"Hell with the Turkey, Rusty. I will buy something tomorrow." Sharon touches his forearm.

"Chinese food? That's like...the only thing open." Rusty smirks.

"Then it will be Chinese." She smiles, leaning in and kissing his forehead, "Now, please, remember to be respectful to these people."

"Your husband and kids."

"Yes. Respect." Sharon nods, leading him out to the living room, "Jack, could I get you something to-" She stops, realizing the man had already taken care of it, "Yes, well, good then." Sharon moves over to the sofa, sitting down next to the man she married twenty-five years before.

Jack nods, sipping his scotch, "You still kept my brand in the usual place."

"Anger does not make me throw a $300 bottle of scotch away, no." She watches him, "I thought you were going to quit."

"And pass the chance of a sip of $300 scotch?" He slowly, "I'm not stupid."

"Well, please finish by the time the children get here." She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, "And that will be the only glass you have."

"Yes, Captain." Jack salutes with his free hand, "So, your plans are to have us all stay here?"

"I bought inflatable beds and Quinn can bunk with me." Sharon nods, "If she wants to, of course."

"Of course." He nods, "I'll take the couch, boy can have the bed."

"You're going to kill your back that way."

"And I'd like to be on my son's good side for a change." Jack nods.

"Why are you on his bad side?" Rusty takes a seat in the chair behind Sharon's desk.

The older man picks his head up, taking a sip from the glass, "Just years of..." He shakes his head, almost unable to answer the question, "Living."

He furrows his brow slightly, "Okay." He draws the word out, "Your daughter."

"Same. Can sit in a room with her, she won't say a word to me. Like I'm not even in the room." Jack nods slowly.

Rusty notices his foster mother is remaining suspiciously quiet during the conversation, "Wonder where she got that from." He smirks, glancing over toward her.

Sharon rolls her eyes, leaning back into the sofa, "Jack, I can't promise anything, but I've never deterred them from having a relationship with you."

"I suppose my past indiscretions have brought this round circle."

"Like?" The teenager wasn't being a smartass, just thinking out loud. Inquisitive and what some may call nosey, he wanted to know it all.

Jack glances to the young man, "I wasn't around much when they were kids. Moved to Las Vegas. Drank a lot, gambled a lot. I've gotten better with that though."

"Gotten better too late." Rusty nods, "And I guess one out of two isn't too bad."

"Rusty!" Sharon gives him a look.

"Why are you helping this guy? He left you with your kids when they were little. His kids hate him because he left them. He left you!" The teenager shakes his head, "You can't sugar coat it. That's why your kids barely talk to either one of you. You're trying to sweep the past under the rug and pretend they're still kids and they won't remember. We always remember being hurt." Rusty shouts at the both of them, standing, "I'm going to the store, I'm going to buy a bucket for this stupid turkey."

She knew he was right, and she knew it was best to be left alone with her estranged husband, "Take $20 from my wallet. My keys are in the glass bowl by the door."

"Where they always are." The young man nods, walking away from the both of them.

Sharon sits in silence for a few minutes, flinching when the door slams behind Rusty, "Jack, I'm sorry about-"

"Kid's right. Never apologize for being right." Jack nods, setting his now empty glass on the table and leaning forward, folding his hands together, "I don't know what to do. How do I help them see how much I love them?"

She shrugs, "Honestly," Sharon pauses, shaking her head, "I don't know."

He stands, moving to the kitchen to wash his glass, "Tree looks nice, Shar."

"Thank you." Sharon smiles softly.

"Noticed some of my grandmother's ornaments."

"Yes, I thought it would be nice to put them on...I want this year to be different." She gazes at the tree, the perfect size for her small space.

"How so?" He pulls open the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of water before returning to the living room.

Sharon swallows, nervous at how silly it all seems, "I just want everyone to be happy. I want Christmas to be that one time of the year that we're all happy to see one another and we can get along...and honestly mean it."

"That's particularly optimistic." Jack smirks, taking a swig from the bottle.

"Rusty has never really had a decent Christmas. Never in his life." She nods, "Never had a family that cared enough about him to actually ensure his happiness."

He sighs, "Damn."

Sharon glances to him, "So...I may have gone overboard with him this year. Our children, obviously, got their fair share, but he's sixteen...I want him to have what other kids his age have." She stands when the door's buzzer sounds.

"A gaming system, gift cards, laptop..." Jack rattles off.

She pauses, "How did you know?"

"Just a hunch." He smirks.

"You know me all too well." Sharon smirks, moving to the door and opening it, "Sammie."

"Hey, Mom." The young man walks through the doorway, body built with broad shoulders, like a football player. He wraps his thick arms around her, making her look so small.

She grips her hands onto her son, threading her fingers through his longer hair, same shade of dark brown she had when she was younger. "You should come around more."

"Yeah well." Samuel shrugs, "Been busy." He looks past her, seeing his father. He offers a nod in his direction.

Sharon lets him go, keeping a hand on his arm, "Rusty ran to the store. He should be back shortly."

The young man nods slowly, "How old is he anyway?" He begins to unzipper his goose down vest, removing it, and hanging it on the coat hook.

"Sixteen." She smiles when she answers, walking into the living room, "I want him to have a great Christmas."

"He your new son?" Sam smirks.

"Please, all I ask is that you include him." Sharon glances to the door again when she hears a knock, opening it to reveal her daughter, "Quinn. Did you and your brother ride together?" She smiles, looking the young woman up and down, something was off.

Quinn tilts her head to the side, "Yes, we travel in packs." She answers sarcastically, pulling a small travel suitcase behind her, "I hear I have a better little brother."

Sam rolls his eyes, walking to the living room and flopping onto the sofa.

Sharon nods, leaning into her daughter's ear, whispering, "Your father is here. We're going to make this nice for Rusty. Now, are you able to do that?"

"Mother, have I ever given you reason to doubt me?"

"No, I suppose you haven't. However, best behavior, please." Her mother nods, pulling her daughter in for a hug, which Quinn quickly backs away from.

"Please." Quinn looks to her mother, speaking in a whisper, "Not right now." She walks past her, pulling along her bag.

Sharon takes a mental note as she closes the door, "Yes, well-"

"Daddy." The young woman walks over to him, kissing his cheek, "So good to see you."

Jack's face lights up, so happy that his daughter is even paying him any mind, more or less welcoming of his presence, "You too, baby."

"So, where's this new little brother of mine?" Quinn turns, looking to her mother.

"He ran to the store, but should be back any moment." Sharon walks into the living room more, rubbing her thumb against her fingers.

"You mean I did all that for nothing?" The young woman sighs, "Where can I put my bag?"

"You'll be bunking with me tonight, if that's okay. We're a little on space now, but not to worry, I purchased an inflatable bed and there's the sofa." She places her hands at her waist, her fingertips almost able to touch one another.

"I can't sleep in the guest room?" Sam glances to his mother.

"That's Rusty's room now." Jack nods, emphasizing the boy's name, "We are off limits to it."

"Oh, come on. He's the youngest!"

Quinn smirks, "Well, Sammie, you and father dear could always bunk on the inflatable," She turns, taking her bags to her mother's room.

"That's the final word." Sharon waves her hand in the air for them to stop, "Best behavior."

Rusty, who with his time of staying in Sharon Raydor's condo and his former job before that, has found the ability to sneak around places and let himself into and out of doors with little to no noise, "For what?"

She swings around, "Rusty, I didn't hear you come in. That was fast."

"I didn't go far. Just to get a bucket." The young man shrugs, walking into the place more. He nods to the new man sitting on the sofa, "You Sam?"

"Yeah. You Rusty?" Samuel smirks.

"Yeah."

"Cool." He nods.

"Great, now they're talking like cavemen." Sharon mumbles to herself before walking to her bedroom, looking to see what's keeping her daughter. She stands in the doorway, folding her arms and watching the young woman.

Quinn slowly pulls on a cardigan, wincing as she attempts to put her arm through the sleeve. Bruises on her upper arm very apparent, "Fuck." She hisses, keeping very quiet. The battery operated candle flickers on top of the dresser, illuminating the room with an eerie yellow glow.

Sharon lets her arms down, moving closer to the young woman and gently touches her shoulder, "What happened?"