(Unedited, Not Proofread, 3666 words)
Trigger Warnings: None <3
Christmas. A holiday I never thought I'd celebrate again; one I haven't celebrated in a long time. A holiday I always expected to work through. One with little significance, one I could not afford. A day that wasn't made for people like me; people with no extra money to spend on gifts and no one to spend it on. A holiday I could never enjoy.
Or so I thought.
Jonah and I woke up at six in the morning and got his mom and her husband— his name is Todd, for future reference— up so the four of us could pull the trampoline out of their garage and into their backyard before the girls all woke up. We tried to be quiet, but we were all laughing like little kids and once we got it into place, Jonah hopped up onto it to "test it out", and suddenly he and I were trying to figure out how to front flip and his mother was trying desperately to make sure we didn't break anything.
We ran back inside by six fifteen and Jonah, Todd, and I started working on getting all the presents ready by the tree, including the little basket with a two— yes, two— kittens snoozing inside. His mother— her name is Amber, by the way— works on getting breakfast ready, hoping to wake the girls with the smell of hot chocolate and cinnamon rolls.
Amber is two years sober today, and even though she does still keep cigarettes around, she hasn't smoked in a few months either. She was so excited to meet me that night two weeks ago when Jonah brought me to his house. I assume Jonah told her about my situation behind closed doors, because when news slipped that my heat wasn't on at breakfast the next morning, she immediately offered to house me until it was.
I refused at first, in true Josephine Sterling fashion, but there were six little voices and Jonah's very influential one asking me to stay until the heat came on at least. I ended up saying yes because, in all honesty, my house is cold. And I don't want to be cold. And Amber has put me to work doing house chores with the girls and outside work with Jonah and I couldn't be happier.
It's not a long-term fix— after all, I am sleeping on the couch—, but until my heat is on, it works. My landlord promised it would be up by mid-January, and Amber and Todd agreed to let me stay until then. Jonah did most of the negotiations, which led to the agreement that I would help around the house while I'm here. It feels good to have things to do, and I'm in a warm house, so I have absolutely nothing to complain about.
Take last night for example. I sleep on the loveseat because I always sleep curled into a ball and I feel like I don't take up enough space to warrant me sleeping on the full couch. So, when Jonah came out into the living room half-asleep with his blanket over his head and sleepily asked me if I wanted company, he laid down on the couch and we fell asleep watching Christmas cartoon movies on the TV on a low volume setting.
How can I complain when this is what I get to experience?
Anyway, when Jonah and I finish arranging the presents, he and I sit down on the loveseat and watch Rudolph, which is playing on repeat, until the smell of cinnamon and sugar fills the house.
The twins are the first ones in the living room, their Christmas pajamas crinkled from hours of restful sleep and their hair twisted into wild tangles. They gawk at the presents and give Jonah and I good morning hugs before heading in to see their parents and get large Christmas mugs filled with hot coco topped with whipped cream and marshmallows.
All the other girls hit the bathroom first before heading over, but once they arrive, at least one of them immediately bursts into tears.
As soon as Jessie sees the kittens in the basket, she walks over to it and sits down right in front of it. Amber and Todd watch from the kitchen, and Jonah shifts in excitement as Jessie looks at her new pets.
After a moment, Jonah nudges her by saying, "You can pick them up, Jess. Just be careful."
"They're so beautiful," Jessie cries, her voice barely a whisper.
"You can name them, Jess-bug," Amber adds, and Jessie starts crying more. Willow approaches the girl, crouching down next to her with a gentle hand on her older sister's back.
"Do you want a minute?" Todd asks, using the same tone he would with an adult. Jessie nods in response, and the man assumes his role of carrying out the girl's with. "Alright everybody, come into the kitchen. We'll eat breakfast then open gifts."
Jonah and I shed the blanket that was on top of us and herd all the girls— aside from Jessie and Willow (whom Jessie requested company with)— into the kitchen. They are all seated at the table in seconds, and Amber begins serving cinnamon rolls and eggs and bacon. Todd pours hot chocolate and asks each individual if they want whipped cream and marshmallows and if they want regular, colored, or chocolate marshmallows. Working together, the duo gets everyone served in a matter of minutes, including themselves, and we all sit down at the table.
While we eat, I take a moment to think about the meals I've had since I started staying here. I've had breakfasts made with love and lots of spices foreign to me. I've had lunches catered by Kaylen or hand-made by Jonah and me for the girls when we babysit them. I've had dinners around this table surrounded by people who hug me good night and consider me— at least for now— a part of their family. I've had warm, filling meals. The first I've had in a while beyond what I ate on our little road trip.
I've been on my own for a while now. Like I mentioned forever ago, I've been renting my house for a short about of time. And before that, I didn't have a house.
I lived with my mother until I was fourteen. Then, due to family issues, I went to live with my grandmother until I was eighteen. I got kicked out because, as my grandmother put it, I needed therapy and neither of us could pay for it, so she decided to take the next best option and remove the responsibility from herself. I lived on friends' couches for two years until all my friends moved away. My grandmother took me back in after I turned twenty, but that was only for a year. I was completely on my own for two years after she kicked me out again, and then I found my way into Annabeth's basement for a few months. After I left hers, I was on my own again.
I haven't been in a house that I felt at home in since I was fourteen. I'm twenty-four now, and to say I miss these kinds of meals surrounded by family would be a monumental lie.
I wish it didn't have to end, but we all know it has to. Again, I'm twenty-four. I can't rely on a family of eight living in a four-bedroom house. Eventually I'm going to have to go back to my house, and while I will have heat when I do go, I'll be missing this so much I think the heat might not matter that much anymore.
Once we're finished eating— and after waiting for Jessie and Willow to finish eating— we head back into the living room and all the girls start going at their presents. Jonah, Amber, Todd, and I sit back and let them have their time, ripping open wrapping paper and squealing with excitement the moment they see the boxes underneath.
About halfway through the digging, the phone starts to ring and Jonah offers to go get it. He climbs out from under the blanket and tosses the rest onto me, which I welcome with open arms.
I'm wearing a new hoodie, one I bought with my own money from the jobs I now work.
Yes. Jobs. With an 's'.
Kaylen did, in fact, save our jobs at the pet store and she put a really good word in for me at the diner her tattoo parlor shares a building with. Now I work at the pet shop in the afternoons from Tuesday to Friday, like before. But I now also work at the diner from breakfast to late-lunch time on the weekends and on Mondays. The best part is I make more than minimum wage. I won't do the math, I've done it too many times with Kaylen by my side, but I know I'm going to be okay.
The diner job pays every week while the pet store pays every two weeks. And, because Kaylen is an angel, I can get paid extra to clean in the tattoo parlor before I head home after working in the diner. Also above minimum wage.
So, when I move back into my own house in a few weeks, I'll have less stress about making things work out. Yes, rent will be more expensive, but Kaylen and I both checked the numbers and we're both sure I can make it work with a little to spare.
Anyways, I'm also wearing sweatpants that Jonah outgrew and socks that came from Amber's drawer of fuzzy socks. So I'm pretty warm. And it's pretty nice.
Jonah comes back a little while later and steals his blanket back, and we watch as the girls start throwing wrapping paper at each other.
Once the girls are all done, they spread out to play with their toys or their kittens. Jessie ends up naming the kittens River and Simon, with Willow's help. But once they've moved, Jonah, Amber, and Todd open their presents from each other.
They smile, they laugh, and I get to sit and watch and experience all their happy emotions and that makes it all worth it.
I don't know if Jonah said anything about what happened in Mississippi, but honestly, I don't think they would believe him if he did so I don't think it makes a difference. That being said, the past few weeks have been a lot better than what Jonah usually described his home life as, and he's told me it's gotten better. I'm happy either way, even if my efforts go unnoticed.
Once all the gifts are gone, Amber stretches her arms above her head and asks, "Jonah, don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Oh! Right!" Jonah chimes, and I frown, thinking he's leaving with no explanation. Then he turns to me and says, "Get some shoes on, alright? Meet me in the car, I have to grab my keys."
"Where are we going?" I ask with a little laugh as he tosses his blanket off and leaps over the side of the loveseat.
"You'll see! Don't change clothes. Just go wait for me!" he says, pointing to the door with a goofy smile. I look over at his mother, but she just shrugs with an innocent smile and then shoos me towards the door.
Skeptically, I grab my shoes from the rack by the door, unlock the door, and then head out into the cold. When I get to his car, I find it unlocked and I get into the passenger seat and go ahead and clip my seatbelt.
A minute or so later, Jonah comes out with his keys in one hand and a single cardboard box in the other. I raise an eyebrow, especially when he struggles to open the back driver's side door. Eventually he gets it open and sets the box inside, then he climbs into the driver's seat and shuts the door.
"What's all this about?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.
"You'll see," he says with a smile, turning the car on and backing out of the driveway. "Trust me, you'll love it."
"Jonah, you're scaring me," I admit with a smile. He grins and turns the radio up, playing Christmas channels up loud as he cruises down back roads.
About three minutes into the drive, I figure out where we're going. It doesn't take long for me to recognize the turns we take, even though we've only taken them twice.
"Jonah," I say, covering my face with my hands.
"No!" he snaps, reaching over and pulling my hands away. "You're supposed to be happy about this! Come— oh, you're smiling. My bad, you are happy. Right?"
"I'm gonna cry, actually," I tease, my legs bouncing in excitement.
When I see the colored mailbox, my heartrate spikes in the best way possible. When we park and I turn to my right to see Abby barreling towards the driveway with Christmas pajamas and a Santa hat on, I nearly scream.
I've called Mike since we last saw him. He said the nightmares have stopped and he and Abby's lives are back to normal. I've talked to Abby over the phone once, and every other sentence we said was some variation of "I miss you". I've been anticipating this reunion for days now.
It's hard to go through such a life-altering experience with someone and then be separated for any amount of time. Two weeks is no exception.
"Josie!" Abby squeals as I open the door and climb out. "Josie! Josie! I got a new set of markers and I'm going to draw you!" She says this all as I bend down to hug her. She's vibrating with excitement, her little feet tapping the pavement and her quick breaths coming out in wispy white puffs.
"Wow! That's awesome!" I tell her, and she jumps backwards and shows me her wrists, which are adorned with bracelets.
"And I made all of these! Mike got me things for them!" she explains, and I glance back to see the man standing just a few feet away, smiling down at his sister.
"Did he?" I ask, and he glances up to me. We both smile and then I look back at Abby. "Well, that's lovely, isn't it?"
"Yeah! Come on! Come in!" she exclaims, and I look back to make sure Jonah's ready to go. He has the box in his hands, and he nods to me. Mike leads the way inside with Abby and I right behind him.
Once we're inside, we all sit down on the couch and Jonah opens the box with a smile.
"We said no gifts so I improvised," he explains as he pulls out a thin plastic-wrapped stack of copy paper. "I knew we were getting together and I wanted us to have a good time, so I bought some things for crafts and Mike has some things to make for lunch." I realize now that Jonah and Mike planned this. They planned this for Abby. And for me.
We end up making snowflakes for what feels like forever, each of us trying to be more and more creative until we've nearly run out of paper. Then Abby and Jonah hang them all up on a string while Mike and I head to the kitchen to lay out things for making personal pizzas.
"How long did you two spend planning this?" I ask, pulling pizza sauce out of the fridge.
"Jonah called me two or three days ago and asked if I wanted to do anything special for you and Abby because we haven't talked too much since we got back," he explains, setting pans out on the counter and going to get the flour. "He said no gifts so I thought we'd do what my family did when we spent Christmas on the road."
"You did this?" I ask, watching him from my place by the sink, waiting for more instructions.
"Back when Garret was here, yeah. We'd go camping over Christmas and do this whenever we got home," he explains, and I feel a strong yet comforting wave of emotions settle down onto us. The room feels calm and still, even as he moves around. It feels perfect for a soft question.
"How old would he be now?" I ask, trying to ask it in a way that tells him he doesn't have to answer if he doesn't want to.
He does, after a moment. He turns to me to judge my tone first, then he looks back to the can of dough he's taking out from the fridge. "Seventeen," he admits after a moment. "Almost eighteen, maybe. His birthday is in March."
I try not to show the realization on my face, but it tears my insides apart to know that the look of familiarity he's been giving to Jonah ever since they met wasn't a look meant for Jonah. It was one meant for Garret. One Jonah happened to be the right age and looks to accept instead of Mike's late brother.
"Oh," I say softly, and he clears his throat, opening the can of dough and separating it into four sections. He works quietly, but I notice his hands move in some kind of rhythm. I can't tell if it's to a song or if he's just hesitant to keep going fluidly, but it's interesting to watch.
After a minute, he questions, "When is Jonah's birthday?"
"January," I reply quickly. "His family is taking a trip out to South Carolina to meet Todd's family to celebrate."
"Are you going with them?" Mike asks, turning to look at me for a moment. Then he holds out a handful of dough and I walk over to help him roll the dough into a workable texture.
"I don't think so. It's a family thing, I don't know Todd well enough to warrant me meeting his family," I admit, not mentioning how Jonah has tried and tried to convince me to come. As much as I don't want to miss his birthday, I can give him his gifts when he gets home and I really don't want to leave the state again.
"If you need some company, you're welcome to come over and stay with us," he comments, and I smile at the offer.
"My heat should be back on by then, but I could never pass up the opportunity to come hang out with you and Abby," I admit, smiling at the dough as it slowly becomes the texture I need it to be.
"She'd love that," Mike comments. Before I can respond, he adds, "I would too." I smile, trying not to let his words get to me and instantly failing. "Call them in here, I'll get the cheese out."
I wander from the kitchen to the hallway where Jonah is taping the last piece of string to the ceiling. The snowflakes hang down at different lengths, imitating actual snow. It looks adorable, and Abby's face is even more so.
Sometimes it's hard for me to remind myself she's eleven years old. She's either awing at everything we do, which is super sweet, or she has the same conviction and responsibility as an adult. She's brave when she needs to be, yet she searches for support when she feels alone. She's both a child at heart and an adult in action. That's not necessarily a good thing. She's missing out on being a child.
"Are you guys ready to make pizza?" I ask, and they both turn to me with matching excited expressions. We head to the kitchen and gather around, listening to Mike explain how to roll the dough, when to put toppings on, and what tastes best with what. Once he's done, we all get to work.
About an hour or so later, we're gathered around in the living room eating pizza slices and watching Christmas movies. I find myself more comfortable here than in Jonah's house, and even though I feel a bit guilty thinking about it, I know it's true. Jonah's house is full of people younger than me with two adult I can't connect with. Mike's house is full of a man somewhat near my age and a little girl who looks at me like I'm a superhero and asks me questions like I'm omniscient.
It's nice, I guess. This Christmas thing. I wish I could've contributed to gift-giving but I'm still working on getting my face out of the mud financially. Perhaps soon I won't be suffocating and I'll be able to afford the gifts people want. Maybe this new diner job will help me live a better life. Maybe Kaylen's fund for me— that I am actively feeding bits of my paychecks into— will save me from the financial anxiety I've been feeling for so long.
Christmas might never be for me. Emotionally, it's a lot. It reminds me of my mother and her gifts of gemstones and books and fresh-baked sweets. It reminds me of her smile and her warm hugs. She was always sober for Christmas. It was a deal. A gift for me. Christmases with her were fun and exciting and always left me feeling fulfilled and ready for the New Year. Since she passed, Christmas has only left me feeling drained and lonely. So it might not be for me. Those emotional wounds might never heal.
But sitting here trying a bite of Jonah's ambitious topping combinations and laughing at the questionable shape Mike's cheese cooked in... it's good. I like it.
(A/N: One part down, two to go.)
Please leave a like if you enjoyed and again, feel free to correct my spelling/grammar in the comments :)