23. Jess
“Dat’s me!” Gemma’s tiny voice whispers in my ear. I’ve drawn a cartoon version of her on my iPad and she’s watching it dance around.
“That is you,” I agree as I add in a little rabbit with my stylus.
“A bunny!” she gasps. “Put Ari in dere, too!”
I oblige and draw in a dancing Arielle with squirrels dabbing across the screen in the background.
The living room in my parents’ house is once again bustling with people, their annual Christmas Eve Open House Party in full swing.
Dad is the consummate entertainer, serving scotch and eggnog from the makeshift bar in the corner by the fireplace, wearing a Santa hat and singing Christmas carols as loud as possible. Mom spends her time bringing out bottles of wine and plate after plate of appetizers for everybody. My brother and sister-in-law are mysteriously missing, but I have a feeling they were on a hunt for mistletoe and maybe got distracted when they finally found it.
As for me? I prefer to just sit on the couch and get lost in some doodling while soaking in the sounds and smells. The holiday music in the background behind my dad’s booming baritone occasionally popping through, the divine aroma of whatever it is my mom keeps bringing out from the kitchen mixed with the fresh pine from the tree. The tree that is, of course, crammed full of homemade decorations from Gemma, Arielle, Scott, me, and even a couple from my parents. It’s basically made entirely of old, dry pasta noodles and glitter.
I had been curled up on the end of the sofa with a fuzzy blanket in my lap and a cup of peppermint tea on the end table next to me when Gemma crawled up and snuggled in, inspiring my latest creation.
“Aunt Jess, what d’you want for Christmas dis year?”
I look up at the ceiling and give some thought to her question. “Well, cuddle bug, I think I’ve got everything I need this year. I can’t think of anything I want.”
She looks at me in disbelief. “You can’t tink of anyting? Not even one toy?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “Nope, not even one toy. Your Aunt Jess is pretty happy just being here with you.”
“What about an asshole?” she asks.
“What? Gemma Lorraine Berringer! Where did you hear that?” My brother is undoubtedly her source of knowledge on the word, but I’m still trying to figure out why she thinks I need a new one for Christmas.
She looks at me innocently. “Daddy told Mommy you got rid of an asshole. Do you need a new one?”
I pinch my lips together. I know it’s wrong for thinking swear words uttered in a tiny chipmunk voice is hilarious, but I can’t help it. That crap is funny.
“Okay, so first of all, don’t say the word ‘asshole’, okay? That’s a grown-up word. And second of all, I think Daddy just meant that I got rid of something I didn’t want anymore and so no, I don’t need a new one. But thank you, sweetheart.”
The answer seems to appease her, and she tucks her head back onto my shoulder and stares back at the tree. “Dere sure is a lot of macanoni on dat tree.”
I laugh out loud this time. “There really is, isn’t there?”
“Aunt Jess, can I open a present now?”
“You’ve gotta wait til later tonight, kiddo. We each get to open one present after dinner, remember?”
“But dinner is looong.”
“Sometimes when I’m super excited for something, I like to distract myself with something fun to pass the time.”
“Derstact?”
“Dis-tract. It means I keep busy with a fun game or book so that I don’t mind waiting.”
Gemma looks skeptical that anything could make the next seven hours go any faster, but before I can offer her some ideas, my mom plops down next to us on the couch.
“Hi, Gramere,” Gemma crawls away from me to sit in her favorite person’s lap instead.
“Ma poulette,” Mom answers, wrapping Gemma in a huge hug. Then, with her free hand, she touches my shoulder and pulls me into the hug with them. “Are you having a good time at the party today?” she asks Gemma.
“Oui. Aunt Jess said I can’t open presents yet. She’s going to sterdact me.”
Mom looks at her quizzically.
“Dis-tract,” I smile.
My mom shoots me a glare. “Why do you need to teach her such complex words? She’s four years old.”
“There’s nothing wrong with using big words when you’re talking to kids, Mom. It helps increase their vocabulary. Gemma, why don’t you go pick out a game for us to play together?”
Mom scoffs as Gemma climbs off the couch and runs over to the bookcase where my parents keep the girls’ games. “What does she need a big vocabulary for? She’s barely in preschool. She doesn’t need so many words.”
“You’re teaching her French!” I counter.
“That’s why you keep the English simple, Jessica. She’s learning two languages.” She smiles, leans in, and kisses my cheek as she stands to go back towards the kitchen. “Who needs more palmiers?” She’s met by a rousing cheer because my mom’s palmier cookies are unofficially the greatest food in the universe.
“How about dis?” Gemma walks over with the huge Hungry Hungry Hippos box taking up half of her tiny body.
“That’s perfect! What hippo are you going to be?”
“Lellow. What about you?”
“I think I’ll be?—”
A chorus of greetings interrupts me, announcing that some new visitors have come in. But unlike all the earlier arrivals, this time my heart speeds up. I don’t even have to know what they’re saying from the front of the house, I can tell by the muffled timbre of the male voices who they are.
And I’m not the only one affected. Gemma gasps and looks at me. “Uncle Chris is here!”
“Uncle Connor, too!” I join in her excitement.
“Who?”
“Uncle Chris’s brother. Uncle Connor?”
Gemma stares at me like I’m covered in boogers before I realize this last Thanksgiving was probably the first time she even met Connor and remembered it. “He made the potatoes at Thanksgiving,” I supply.
That does it. “Oh! Hims!”
My dad’s voice booms out. “The men of the hour!”
The Price men walk in and really, if I’m being objective, I’d have to say they’re all devastatingly handsome. Joe is always the picture of distinguished in a charcoal gray sweater and black slacks, his full head of salt and pepper hair styled neatly. Chris, of course, is wearing the ugliest Christmas sweater I’ve ever seen in my life, but at least he put on some khakis to help make it a little more formal. And Connor…well Connor always looks like he’s going to something sophisticated. He’s wearing black pants with a deep green button-down shirt and an uncharacteristically bright red tie, but you know what? It totally works.
All three men laugh appropriately at my dad’s lame announcement, but Connor’s eyes scan the room, looking for something.
My racing heart trips and falls over itself when those eyes land on me and he smiles widely.
I smile stupidly back at him and stand up as he makes his way through the room.
“Uncle Chris!” Gemma shrieks, catching Chris’ attention immediately.
“There she is!” Chris calls back and Gemma is gone, racing through the crowd to get to him.
“Hiuncleconnor,” she calls quickly as she passes Connor and runs straight into Chris’s arms. Chris swoops her up and continues talking to Joe and my dad at the bar.
Which leaves Connor and me alone.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hey,” I reply.
Even though I probably could keep staring at him like an idiot, I decide to make some better conversation. “I’m glad you could make it.”
Okay, that wasn’t better. He’s literally right next door, of course he could make it. What is wrong with me?
“Are you kidding? Can’t mess with tradition. Did…Gemma just call me Uncle Connor?”
I smile over at my niece. “She did. I mean, unofficially you are, aren’t you? Being Uncle Chris’s brother and all?”
A warm feeling comes over me as I watch his face change to something I can’t quite put into words. But if I had to give it my best shot, I would say it’s pride. “I guess so, yeah.” He thinks about it for another second and stands a little taller. “Huh. That’s kind of nice, actually.”
This man. He’s making me feel things I would need to go to confession for if I was Catholic.
“You have an amazing honorary niece there, Uncle Connor. Merry Christmas.” I pull him into a hug and don’t even try to pretend I’m not enjoying the feel of his powerful arms wrapped around me. I do try to pretend that I don’t notice him inhaling my hair like he did the other night.
We’re very weird, the two of us.
“What’s that you’re working on?” he finally asks.
I stay in his embrace and look over my shoulder at my iPad. “Ah, those are my—well, I guess our nieces dancing around with some wildlife.”
He drops his arms and sits down on the couch, grabbing the tablet. “Oh wow, seriously? So you did this?”
“I did,” I grin proudly. “It’s just some random doodling. I can show you some of the actual projects I’m working on.”
“Yeah, absolutely, this is amazing.” He hands the iPad to me and moves over to give me room next to him.
I’m so excited to share my animation with someone new that I almost don’t notice that our legs are touching when I sit down.
Almost.
“Aunt Jess! Aunt Jess! Uncle Chris is gonna play hippos wit us!” Gemma is yelling and dragging Chris by the hand through the people to get to the couch and coffee table. Disappointment runs through me, but it’s hard to be upset for long when you’re looking at Gemma’s big doe eyes.
With him now standing in front of us, I’m able to get a better look at Chris’s sweater and words escape me. “What…what in the name of Rudolph is going on here?” I ask, motioning at his torso.
“Um, do you mean this very stylish and totally elevated knit garment?” Chris asks.
“Those weren’t the words I was going to use, but I guess we’re talking about the same thing,” I reply.
“Jessica, please don’t pretend to understand high fashion, all right? It’s embarrassing. This sweater is a statement piece. It makes a statement.”
“He’s not lying,” Connor agrees.
“And before you say anything,” Chris continues, “that statement is ‘I love Christmas.’ That’s right. I am so filled with yuletide joy and love for all mankind right now that the only way I could express it is through this surprisingly lifelike cross stitched design of what Rudolph would look like in real life, guiding Santa’s sleigh.”
I try to cover my laughter. “I mean, kudos to you for recognizing that it’s cross-stitched, but where on earth did you get that thing?”
“It doesn’t matter, it’s one of a kind. You’ll never find another one like it.”
“I wouldn’t want to,” I counter, getting a laugh out of Connor.
“Show Aunt Jess the lights!” Gemma cheers.
My eyebrows shoot up. “The lights?”
In response, Chris holds his arms out to the side and cocks his head as if to say, Yeah, obviously “the lights.” With a dramatic reach under the hem of the sweater, he presses a button that causes scary realistic Rudolph’s nose to glow red and the stars to twinkle. And then he presses another button, delighting my niece when an 8-bit version of Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer starts to play.
“I LOVE DIS SWEATER, UNCLE CHRIS!” Gemma exclaims.
“I DO, TOO!” he cheers back.
Connor smiles and says, “Gemma, do you want to see something else cool?”
She turns to him eagerly, and he smoothes his hand over his tie before holding it at the bottom. There’s a soft click and suddenly the tie glows even redder with a ton of thin strands of light running through it.
“Oh my gosh,” I gasp. “Are you wearing a fiber-optic necktie?”
Gemma’s in absolute awe. “It looks like dere’s red psghetti noodles in dere!”
He kneels down so she can touch the tie and shows her where the button is so she can—much to her enchantment—cycle the lights from solid to blinking to fading in and out to back off again. While Gemma’s tiny hands and tiny giggles are wrapped up in Connor’s tie, Connor’s smile is all for her and the sight makes my ovaries tingle.
I look over at Chris, concerned he might be a little jealous of the flashy attire competition, but he looks like he’s nothing but happy to see his brother loosening up.
“I assume the tie was your doing?” I ask.
“Only inadvertently. He took one look at this sweater and knew he had to bring a little more to his holiday look.”
My mouth falls open in shock and I look back at Connor, who’s trying to explain fiber optics to a four-year-old. “The tie was your idea? You didn’t lose a bet or something? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I freaking love it. But it just seems a little overstated for you.”
“What can I say?” he says. “I’m feeling the spirit this year.”