Merry Christmas


            Gingerbread houses, fruit cake, eggnog, candy canes and Christmas trees; it’s Christmas season: a time for giving and celebrating Christ’s birth. After a mass on Christmas Eve, my family and I rush home to prepare for tomorrow’s celebration. Guess who I’m inviting; I’m inviting the girl who has been with me ever since high school. Yeah, that’s her. It’s our first Christmas together since I got back.  And yes, I did get her a present! Daniel bought a box of mistletoe.

            “In case a few ladies would want some of me,” he winks then runs up the stairs.

            My brother’s weird but I hate to admit, I might snag one of those. Please don’t ask why, it’ll make me feel even more uncomfortable.

            Every year, my family throws this Christmas party for some of the neighbours and family friends. It’s very fun, and I can’t wait until she comes over.

            My dad and I help out with the finishing touches of the decorations in our living room and foyer for tomorrow. My mom is very laid back with the décor, maybe that’s because we’re doing it and she trusts our judgement.

            In my room, I hop into my pyjamas after stripping off my church out then drift off into a dreamless sleep.

            The next day is rather hectic compared to last night. Amber and Jazzy are running across the slippery tiled floors, running back and forth with ornaments dangling around their bodies. Teddy, the family’s poodle, settles himself down on a carpet by the fire, doing absolutely nothing other than breathing and napping.

            “No, no, they go here, honey.” I hear my mom directing my sisters.

            “Oh okay,” Jazzy answers obediently, climbing onto a little ladder and hanging up streamers onto the line of intersection between the ceiling and wall.

            “Perfect.” My mom’s face is gladdened.

            Meanwhile, a roast is cooking in the oven and the giant crock pot is bubbling over a stove. It smells like Christmas; the smell of fresh pinecones and ginger filling the entire house fluently through the archways. The fire crackles from time to time, begging for more logs. Outside is cold and bright; normal for a winter afternoon.

            My sisters are in baggy sweaters and skinny jeans. Each sweater has a picture of a reindeer with a big red nose; matching sweaters I may say.

            “Nice sweaters,” I say as I walk pass them to kiss my mom on the cheek.

            “Oh shut up, we were forced to wear them,” Amber sticks her tongue out at me jokingly.

            “Stop bickering, back to work,” my mom pesters them.

            “Can I help?” I offer though I look very unpresentable—bed hair, saggy pants and dry throat.

            “It’s all right. Go wash up, there are still more things to prepare. And your sweater is in the bathroom. The dark blue one,” my mother flashes her thin-lipped smile at me. I nod then go upstairs, scratching my head.

            In the bathroom, I find a sweater hanging by the towel rack with a post-it note: David. That’s mine and it’s dark blue. I’m more of a light blue guy, but I guess this can work. Next to mine is Daniel’s and it’s in the colour of moss green.  After a hot shower, I put on a while tank top, then squeeze my head through the stretchy hole of the sweater. When I face the mirror, my sweater has a kitty cat on it and like my sisters, has a giant nose popping out and black whiskers made from yarn.

            I walk out of the bathroom, earning a breathless laugh from Daniel as it is his turn to take a shower.

            “Okay, who picked the sweaters this year,” I come down, announcing to the entire room. My sisters stop hanging up the streamers to look at me then they burst into laughter, holding each other so they won’t topple off the ladder.

            “I picked that especially for you, big brother because I love you oh so much,” Amber cackles.

            Just then my mom comes into the conversation, gasping, “Oh, look at you! If only I made you wear that when you were 12! Don’t you look handsome!” She walks over to me to squeeze my cheeks.

            “I’m 23, news flash,” I cough.

            “Scratch that; 24 in 3 more days!” my dad comes into the conversation. Snow sits on his shoulders as he holds a few cables. I believe he’s fixing up the outdoor Christmas lights.

            ‘Joy To the World’ is playing on the home stereo system in the living room, behind the huge Christmas tree with an angel on the top.

            I help myself to a box of streamers and start hanging them up where my mom instructed me to hang. Through the windows, I aimlessly watch the snowflakes gracefully falling from the sky and land on the driveway where my dad is shovelling snow to the side.

            “Santa hats, everybody!” Daniel yells from the stairs, holding a handful of Christmas hats. “Work, my elves!”

            He puts the bright red hats onto my sisters then on me. I fix mine. He has a Santa hat on his head already. My mom willingly wears one too then laughs.

            I love Christmas.

            We prepare until 6 PM. The sun has already gone by then. The roast is almost ready, the crock pot is whistling away and the entire kitchen is a battlefield with my mom and sisters in it.

            I help my dad and Daniel fix up the Christmas tree and arrange the Christmas presents under them.

            “Nice sweater, David,” my dad compliments me (more of a tease).

            “Thanks, it’s starting to grow on me,” I manage to smile, playing along with his game.

            Daniel snorts from the other side of the tree, “Are you kidding me? That is a girl’s sweater.”

            “Excuse you, what did you get then?” I spew my words out like venom.

            His head and body out peeks from the tree, smiling and showing me his moss green sweater decoration with a dog’s face with its reddish tongue sticking out.

            “Face,” he mouths, placing his hand over his face.

            “Hey, behave. Your sister is coming to visit with Adam, so I expect both of you to act like men,” my dad advises us.

            Claudia is coming with Adam to the Christmas gathering. I haven’t seen her in ages ever since she moved in with him. I miss her terribly.

            The home stereo starts to play ‘Angels We Have Heard on High’ above the fire place. I hear my mom carolling from the end of the hallway, I carol along with her. Soon my dad joins in, then two shrill voices ring from the hallway while my brother mumbles the lyrics a little bit.

            Soon the cats, Katsu and Tsuki, walk into the room and meow along with us. The house is filled with Christmas spirit instantaneously. I’ve never been so glad to be home after a long comeback Christmas tour. My kitty cat sweater seems to grow on me completely. I’m starting to like the loose whiskers dangling on it.

            After hours and hours of labour, the kitchen is finally cleaned up and the dishes are lined up on the counter by courses. The dining table is extended with more tables and chairs. The room has never looked so crammed.

            The first person to arrive is Claudia and Adam. We greet them with bear hugs each. Claudia, as usual, makes fun of my sweater.

            “I picked it out!” Amber chirps from the huge crowd around them.

            “Very smart. You’re doing well at filling my shoes,” Claudia nods in approval. I laugh bashfully. Claudia used to take advantage of my innocent nature to trick me. I don’t mind with the practical jokes, it’s like a training ground for the outside world. Once I was on tour with Demi Lovato and she came bursting through my room, ready to pull a prank on me. Fortunately, I didn’t buy it then she felt bad then left. It took her 5 seconds to leave after I said, “What did I do wrong?!”

            After taking off their coats, Claudia proceeds to the kitchen while my dad keeps Adam entertained with a drink. I still wait for her. I can’t wait to see the look on her face when I give her her present.
  
            Gradually, the house is filled with my relatives. I kiss my aunts on their cheeks, I shake my uncles’ hands and welcome them and no sign of her yet so I stay by the living room, listening to my uncle’s stories about his travels around the globe.

            Then my neighbours start to appear and hot drinks are passed around. I help myself to tea. Chocolate gets me really jumpy, I don’t want to get jumpy when I hang out with her. She’d shoot me a look if I do.

            “Let’s play David’s Christmas album!” one of my aunts exclaims. I start to walk out of the living room after I say, “May I be excused?” I don’t like listening to myself even after years of singing, I don’t. It’s weird, I sound nasally.

            I seek refuge to my mother. Unfortunately she’s too occupied with her daughters so I walk upstairs to see my brother combing his hair in his room.

            “Hey, Daniel,” I knock at his door. He turns around.

            “Oh, it’s Kitty.” He resumes styling his hair.

            “Listen, can I get one of your mistletoe?”

            A smirk starts to form on his face as if he has cheated his way through high school and never got caught.

            “What’s in it for me?” he says.

            “Me as your loving brother. That’s it.”

            “What’s in it for me?” he repeats his question.

            I sigh in defeat. “Unlimited access to the bathroom in the mornings.”

            “And?”

            There’s more!?

            “What else is there, Daniel?” I ask.

            “Uh, to stop singing after 10 PM?” he says obnoxiously.

            “Fine. Do we have a deal?”

            “Take one, not more,” he waves at the little box on his desk. I help myself to one and say thanks on my way out. In the living room, I see my family and a few more neighbours sitting by the fireplace listening to stories with hot mugs in their hands.

            I keep the mistletoe in my pocket to avoid any suspicion. Apparently, they haven’t been playing my album. I feel like I’ve been tricked again for the second time today.

            I keep myself busy, looking for a location to hang up the mistletoe, wasting absolute precious time.

            Then, “hey!” comes from my back.

            I jump in the middle of my search to see a brown-haired girl with a wide grin on her face greet me. She pulls me into a rib-crushing hug.

            “What are you wearing?!” she laughs at my kitty cat sweater.

            My cheeks start to get hot real quick.

            “Oh, Amber… picked it out especially for me,” I laugh along with her, “I like it though!”

            “Yeah, very cute,” she twirls the loose ends of the whiskers.

            Shortly, we’re called for dinner. The roast is amazing along with the casseroles and the crock pot. My family loves to give out ample supplies of freshly cut fruit, so we hand them out without a care. The plates are returned empty, wiped clean.

            As soon as the guests and my family are directed to the living room to unwrap their presents, I drag her away from the bustling scene after getting hold of her present.

            “Isn’t my present in there?” she questions me as I bring her into the tool shed (more like a little room with tools in them, it’s located in the very back of the house after the kitchen) where it is serene. From the little foggy window, I see the bright yellow light of the living room radiate.

            “It’s too noisy there,” I tell her. Next I bring up her present; a fairly medium sized box wrapped in lime green wrapping paper and a purple ribbon around it. Her eyes go wide and her mouth flings open.

            “Oh, what could it be?” she shakes it, placing her ear next to the wall of the box.

            “Open it,” I suggest.

            So she does—gingerly untying the bow and tearing the paper apart. She lifts the lid to unveil the Christmas present, gasping.

            “It’s perfect, David. Thank you,” she places her hands on the left side of her chest with a touched expression upon her face. I got her a compact atlas. The one she was drooling over at the local bookstore. She couldn’t get it, it was… too pricey at the moment. Since Christmas also brings discounts, I got it for her, assuming she was too busy to care for Christmas shopping. Thus, I don’t expect anything in return. Nothing like a girl who adores books, eh?

            “I got you something too but I didn’t place it under your tree. I wanted to give it to you personally.” She fishes out a thin-looking square out of her bag and hands it to me, gesturing me to unwrap it. So I do.

            It’s a scarf.

            “It gets cold here in Utah. Colder than before,” she walks over to me to wrap the scarf around my neck, “Guess what? I knitted it myself.”

            My heart starts to swell. “That’s really nice of you.”

            “Yeah?” she beams at me.

            “Yeah.”

            I grab her into my arms, feeling the warmth of her body sink into my kitty cat sweater. Her mouth presses against my shoulder. I feel her inhale my scent. In the stuffiness of the shed, it feels warm and relaxing.

            To tell you the truth, we haven’t kissed since the night I got back. You know, the night where she blurted out her love for me. We’ve been hugging things out instead, and I like it. They never get old.

            “You smell like pinecones,” she mumbles.

            “In a good way?” I run my fingers down her back.

            “Definitely in a good way. This is how Winter smells like.”

            I agree.

            We walk back into the kitchen to find pieces of wrapping paper scattered all over the floor and a few kids running around with their presents.

            It’s havoc, I’m telling you. The chatter is getting louder by the second. All the smiling faces are the excuse though. My brother waves at me then gives me a thumb up, thinking that I probably nailed this girl (which I absolutely didn’t. I don’t ‘nail’ girls).

            The kitchen looks empty as I continue to watch the people’s eyes light up along with the Christmas spirit.

            “Did you get anything for your family?” she asks out of nowhere.

            “Of course I did. Daniel, a new joystick; Jazzy, a Legend of Zelda shirt; Amber, more Pokémon cards to add to her collection; my mom, a pair of earrings; and my dad, a Nat King Cole album.”

            I spent a lot of money getting those presents but they’re definitely worth it. I see my sisters screaming over their presents in the corner of the room, seeing my mother say, “Just what I needed!” and my dad laughing at his present—it’s a laugh that says, “He knows me, he really knows me.”

            I decide to open my presents later when everybody’s gone. Right now I’m trying to find a way to plant this mistletoe without her noticing. Afraid she might get lost in the crowd, I tell her to stay put as I go look for Daniel.

            When I do find him, I ask him for a favour. He whines at first, I remind him about the deal we made earlier on so he stops. I ask him to plant the mistletoe anywhere in the house (excluding the bathrooms, you never know what Daniel might be up to). After that he scurries off.

            I beckon her to walk outside of my house with me after a few minutes from being dragged into one conversation to another in the living room. We decide to walk about outside my house starting from my backyard. Snowflakes fall in a small amount.

            One falls on her eyelash, I had to brush it away and watch her cheeks go red.

            “Oops…” she mumbles under the breath, fog puffs from her lips.

            By the time we reach my front porch, I see a little green plant hanging from the long rod by the porch steps. Daniel definitely knows how to plant mistletoe all right.

            I take her hand in mine, coaxing us to the steps. She doesn’t protest.

            We sit by the porch, watching the empty streets light up with the luminaries lined up by the sides of the street. She slowly takes off my Santa hat to place it on her head, smiling at me, “I hope you don’t mind.”

            I shake my head as in no, I don’t mind at all.

            Here we are, sitting below the mistletoe (that rhymed). I wonder if she noticed it yet.

            “Any plans for your birthday?” she starts.

            “Um, well, a cake. That’s it,” I laugh.

            “That’s a shame, I thought, you know-”

            “Throw a party? No way, look at this one,” I point to the commotion inside the house where everyone’s clinking their glasses together. “I want a nice subtle birthday.”

            She nods, “You’re getting old, David.” Here comes the teasing.

            “I don’t mind, another year wiser.”

            That gets her to stop talking all of a sudden, she fumbles with the loose ends of her sweater.

            My heart starts to race faster. I should tell her we’re sitting under the mistletoe. I really want that kiss right now. I’m not supposed to lust over things like these but I really want one right now.

            “Hey… uh… look. I think my brother… planted one of them here,” I point toward the ceiling. She looks up when I do.

            “Oh,” she says in surprise. “I don’t mind.”

            She scoots close to me, snaking her arms around my neck then pulls me in for a kiss. Everything feels very right today. My family getting all festive, getting her the present she’s dreaded for and getting a kiss. Nothing can replace this feeling, ever.

            “Merry Christmas,” she says after that, tugging the hand-knitted scarf.

            I kiss her red-tipped nose.

            “Merry Christmas.” 

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