Prove It

Chapter XXXII

"Where the treetops glisten and children listen to hear sleigh bells in the snow."

Bing Crosby's voice rings throughout the warm house. The fire is roaring and my family and Marcus are all around the tree decorating the crap out of the gigantic evergreen. We all picked it out this morning and even though it took nearly forever to have it strug together and transferred into the house, I'd say it was well worth it.

The nearly fifteen foot tree stands tall in the corner of the room. With all the other decorations throughout the home, our house looks like it's made for elves to live in. Holden takes such care in laying out the minature manger set every year, making it look as perfect as it can be on the center table. Emma always strings lights, garland and ornaments onto the main staircase, and I take the mantle, hanging the stockings and placing other little decorations on the top.

But we all decorate the tree. It's annoying to get all the ornaments and lights from the attic, but it's a small price to pay.

I can tell Marcus was a bit overwhelmed when we began the day. His family hires people to put up the tree and decorate the house, so I don't think he's ever even gone out to pick a tree, let alone decorate an entire house.

"It's finally done!" My mom looks at the room in pride, her eyes sparkling with happiness. She always eats this holiday stuff up. My mom never really celebrated holidays before she knew my dad, so sometimes she gets even more excited for this than we do.

Marcus slumps back on the couch and I laugh at him. He looks so drained, but little does he know we're not done yet.

"Get up," I say, hauling him up to his feet.

"What are we doing now?" he whines. I drag him up newly decorated stairs and towards my bedroom.

"We're decorating my room now." He groans again, but I hardly listen. I swing open the door and he groans for a thrid time now.

"There's another tree in here!" he complains, rubbing his face. "Can we take a break for a couple minutes?"

I shake my head, but relent. "Sure." I hop onto my bed and pat the space beside me. He crawls next to me and puts his head into my lap and hugs me close to him.

"I can't believe you do this every year," he mumbles into my shirt. I giggle and stroke his hair.

"Come on, it's not that bad. It's fun," I try and cheer him up by singing along to the Christmas carols.

He tickles my stomach and I squirm in my seat. "Stop!" I squeal. He tortures me for a few more seconds before showing mercy and halting the attack.

"For that the break is over," I say. I start to get up from the bed when Marcus strengthens his grip on me.

"No!" he whines. Gosh this is the most complaining he's ever done.

"Get up, this won't take as long," I promise. I struggle out of his hold to stand on the floor next to the bed where he's still laying.

"Come one Marcus," I coax him like I would Charlie to get off my bed, but he isn't budging.

He lifts his head up and puckers his lips. "Kiss me first," he demands. I roll my eyes but kiss him anyway. I give him a light peck but he pulls me back to him for a longer kiss.

I pull back and lightly pinch his nose to which he scrunches up his face. "That was rude," he chides.

"Help me." I put out my hand to get him out of the bed. He takes it and almost pulls me back down with the amount of force he uses to haul himself up.

"You're whiney today," he sticks out his tongue at me like a five year old.

"I'm tired and hungry, I'm going to be a baby until I have rest and food," he grumbles.

"We'll have food after we finish the tree," I try and bargin with him. I would do the rest of the room myself later.

"Fine." He drops to the floor to open one of the boxes. My tree is nearly as tall as the one on the main floor and I hope he doesn't complain for the two hours I know we're going to spend on this.

*********************

"Do you think the waiter would think it's weird if I asked for more fries?" Marcus asks. As soon as we finished with the tree, he demanded that we go out somewhere for food at once.

"I don't think so. We'll just have to pay for another side." He waves over the waiter as he walks by, ordering himself another side of fries and an extra serving of cole slaw.

"How are you still hungry?" I ask. I don't understand how boys can eat like a pig 24/7 and not look like a sumo wrestler.

"Because someone starved me for three hours," he sasses. I throw a scrap of tomato at his shirt.

"I didn't starve you. You could've gone downstairs whenever you wanted to get food," I say and his jaw goes slack.

"You never told me that!" The fries and cole slaw come to the table and he thanks the waiter. After the waiter is gone his fake smile disappears and a scowl replaces it again. "You said we'd eat after we decorate the tree."

I shrug. "I never said you couldn't get food. I just said we'd get some after."

"Details, details. What matters is that you withheld food from me." He stuffs his face with the second helping in front of him.

"Did you like doing it? You don't have to do it again if you don't want to," I say. I feel bad for dragging him through this exhausting day, making him miserable.

"No I did like it. It was a change from what my family does."

"Good because my dad likes to go all out for the Super Bowl and my mom is into making this house all pretty for Easter," I say and he drops his fork in the cole slaw.