63. Sienna
SIENNA
Mom grilled me all the way home about Calvin, and I had little choice but to tell her everything.
To say that she was shocked would be an understatement.
Just like me, Mom and Dad had no idea that Calvin Keller is an older version of Vinny Smythson.
She happily told me how cute she thought we were that summer, and how sad they both were when I confessed that we lost touch.
“We always thought he would make a fantastic son-in-law, and we knew you’d love living at the ranch someday,” were some of her exact words.
Her excitement diminished a little when I explained about Calvin’s family and how they don’t support his career choice.
Both my parents looked dumbfounded by that. The concept of not supporting Garrett and me in whatever direction we choose is unfathomable.
The questions didn’t stop coming once we got home and Mom handed me a plateful of cookies to snack on.
By the time they left to pick Garrett up from the airport hours later, I was emotionally exhausted.
I made the most of having the house to myself and ran myself a bath.
It would probably be the only time during my stay here.
And just because I missed him already, I propped my cell up and video called Calvin, teasing him relentlessly while naked and covered in bubbles.
Poor guy looked like he was in physical pain, I felt bad… kind of.
As a family, we spent the evening catching each other up on our lives, but mostly, the conversation revolved around me and my…
boyfriend? Considering we haven’t had that conversation yet, I’m not sure the title is correct or not, but I wasn’t going to go into the dynamics of our relationship with my parents.
I hated waking up alone this morning. One night with Calvin in my bed again, and I’m like a junkie who needs her next fix.
The first thing I did was reach for my cell, and I couldn’t stop my smile from spreading when I found that he’d already messaged and was waiting for me to wake up.
We spent so long on video call, Garrett threatened to drag me out of bed by my feet if I didn’t get my ass up and help Mom with the meal prep, like he’d done a time or two when we were kids.
Since Mom and Dad moved back to Idaho, the Christmas Eve tradition has been to spend the evening with the rest of the small town they live in, celebrating the holidays with food everyone has made.
Part of them moving out of the city was to embrace small-town life and get involved in the wider community.
They both spend their weekends during the spring helping to plant flowers and maintain the beds along Main Street, and they volunteer for all other kinds of things.
Seeing them with the other townspeople, most of whom have lived here all their lives, just goes to prove that they made the right move. I’ve never seen them happier.
We spend all afternoon making sausage rolls, cheese twists, spring roll, and all kinds of sweet treats for the evening’s festivities.
The kitchen is pure chaos, but Mom wouldn’t have it any other way.
Standing shoulder to shoulder with Garrett, both of us in comedy aprons that Mom forces us to wear, brings such nostalgia from our childhood.
It’s almost enough to make me forget the man I left behind. Almost.
By the time we’re done, we probably have enough food to feed the entire town. From charcuterie boards, pastry tarts, and mini meatballs to a whole host of dips, and of course, not forgetting the sweet treats, there’s no doubt that everyone is going to be full and happy tonight.
I’m excited, but also a little sad.
This town might be where Mom grew up, but the locals have welcomed us all with open arms. It’s such an incredible place to spend the holidays, and I can only imagine how magical it must be for the children who live here.
Everyone goes out of their way to decorate, and the entire town looks like Santa’s grotto.
It’s pretty incredible. I know that if things go well, Calvin will get to experience it all in the future, but there’s an impatient part of me that wants him to see it all this year.
“Are you ready?” Mom asks once we all gather in the living room, ten minutes before we need to leave for the community center.
Dad has already done three trips back and forth this afternoon with trays of food.
He was under strict instructions not to eat anything, and I’m not entirely sure if he followed those orders. I know Garrett and I haven’t.
“Are we really doing this again?” Garrett grumbles as Mom hands out gifts. He’s only messing; I know that, deep down, he secretly loves this tradition.
“Oh, stop you’re complaining, Grinch,” Mom teases as we all take our gifts and wait for the signal. “I got really good ones this year. You’re all going to love them.”
Garrett, Dad, and I look at each other.
In order to be invited to this community party, you have to turn up wearing a Christmas sweater, and Mom has taken it upon herself to find the most awful sweaters she can and force us to wear them as a family. It’s cringy as hell, and I love it.
“Okay, go,” she finally says, and the three of us tear into our perfectly wrapped gifts.
“Oh my—” Dad starts, but he’s quickly interrupted by Garrett.
“Mom,” he cries as he presses a button on the front of his sweater that makes Rudolph’s nose flash red before a very out-of-tune musical rendition of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” erupts from somewhere. “It’s awful.”
Mom claps her hands happily. “I know.” She beams. “Aren’t they great?”
“No,” we all state in unison, although I can’t deny that the three of us are also smiling as we pull the ugly sweaters on.
“Huddle! We need a photo before we leave.”
We all get into position, and Garrett holds his arm out for a family selfie that no doubt will be added to the collection of photos that fill this house.
“Perfect,” Mom praises. “This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”
I want to agree, but I can’t help but feel like something is missing.
But there isn’t time to dwell on that because Mom ushers us out of the house, stating that we’re already late.
We all know better than to argue with her, so we pull our shoes on, grab our coats and the remaining trays of food, and head out.
I swear, the community center can probably be seen from space with the number of lights that have been strung.
People flood in from all directions, and there’s barely any parking.
“See, I told you we were late,” Mom mutters as Dad drives farther down the street to park.
Sensing Garrett’s attention on me, I look over.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah, of course,” I lie.
“What’s going on?” Mom asks, proving that she does, in fact, have supersonic hearing when it comes to her kids.
“Nothing,” I mutter at the same time Garrett announces, “Sienna is lovesick.”
“Seriously?” I snap, glaring at him.
“What? Tell me I’m wrong.”
My glare gets harder.
“Aw, sweetie,” Mom says, her voice full of empathy. “You’ll see him again soon.”
“Right, are we doing this, or what?” Dad asks, having found somewhere to park.
“We’re doing this,” Mom squeals excitedly before jumping out of the car.
We all follow, and after loading our arms with more food, we make our way inside.
The party is already in full swing, the bar is packed with locals enjoying the evening, and there are people everywhere enjoying plates of food. A little pride shoots through me to know that we made a lot of that today.
We lay out our additions, and Garrett and I immediately turn toward the bar. I do love these events, and I love watching Mom be a social butterfly, but I also need alcohol.
Calvin has been busy this afternoon, so we haven’t messaged much, and I miss him. As far as I know, they’re going to Kodie’s tonight and then he’s at Linc and Parker’s again tomorrow. I know he’ll enjoy himself with them, but it’s not the same as being together.
Garrett and I do a round of the hall, saying hello to people we haven’t seen since last Christmas, while I work my way through two glasses of prosecco. By the time we get to an empty table with plates full of food, we’re now officially allowed to eat it.
We fall into easy conversation about those we’ve spoken to tonight, debating whose sweaters are worse than ours. Spoiler: there aren’t any. If there were a prize for the worst sweater, we would have won it, hands down. But there are some equally hideous ones that need discussing.
Eventually, Garrett excuses himself for the bathroom, promising that he’ll return with more prosecco.
I sit back and watch everyone enjoying themselves.
Mom and Dad are laughing with a couple I remember from last year.
My eyes trail the younger kids as they run around, and I take note of the new ones who have appeared over the year.
The youngest, currently sleeping in its mother’s arms, only looks days old.
There are also a couple of the older members of the community who are no longer with us.
I smile as I think of one elderly man from the last few years.
He was the life and soul of the party. I don’t think there was a female in the room that he didn’t drag up to the dance floor for at least a song.
He didn’t care if you were a toddler or older than him; he wanted a dance.
He was sweet as hell—the kind of grandfather every little boy and girl wants.
Mom catches my eye from across the room, and she smiles and waves. I try to put just as much enthusiasm into my response, but I think it falls a little flat.
There are some people here our age, but they’re mostly chasing little kids around.
I watch as Garrett reappears and walks toward the bar for more drinks.
I’m about to pull my cell out to see if Calvin has responded to my last message when a shadow falls over me.
I frown when I see that Mom and Dad are still across the hall, and Garrett is standing at the bar.
Who is—
I gasp as the man steps in front of me.
The first thing I see is the God-awful sweater, but that’s soon forgotten when I realize just who is standing before me, wearing the same ugly sweater as my family and me.
“Calvin?” I breathe, blinking up at him as if he’s a figment of my imagination.
A smirk twitches at his lips. “Hey, darlin’. Mind if I join you?”
I continue staring in disbelief.
Awareness prickles the back of my neck, and when I rip my eyes away from the man staring down at me, I find Mom, Dad, and Garrett grinning at us.
“You…You’re here,” I blurt.
His smile widens. “I am. Is that okay? I can go if—”
“No,” I cry, jumping to my feet and throwing my arms around him. “No, you’re not allowed to go anywhere.”
“Okay, good, because I don’t put on sweaters like this for just anyone.”
Laughter bubbles out of me.
“How? What?”
“You can blame your brother.”
My eyes find Garrett over Calvin’s shoulder. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin that tells me I’m going to owe him big for this.
‘Thank you,’ I mouth.
“Now, are you going to welcome me with a kiss or what?”