Chapter 21 Xolotl #3
The rest of the night passes in a blur, with a really delicious dinner—though the green beans aren’t my favorite—and someone passing out cherry-covered chocolates that cause everyone to laugh.
But then it’s time for presents. I’m so excited about Whitney opening her gifts that I forget that she’d have gotten me something. . .until she thrusts a box at me.
“What’s this?” I ask.
Whitney shrugs.
“You didn’t need to get me a present,” I say. “You’re my present, the fact that you like me at all.”
She laughs. “Then hopefully you’ll like this.”
I open it, mostly looking at her as I do. But when I do look down, I can’t help my smile. It’s a massive photo, almost life-sized, of the two of us, perhaps one second before our first kiss, right here at her parents’ home. “How do you—where did you get this?”
“My family’s nosy,” she says. “And Amanda Saddler had just gotten that new camera.”
I hear cackling from across the room. The old lady who isn’t really related to any of the Brooks-Archer family but acts like she is points at me. “I knew you’d be happy to have it. I have good instincts for these things.”
“Thank you,” I say. “It’s a moment I want to remember forever.”
Whitney slides into a spot on the sofa next to me, and then she tugs my face down and lifts hers, kissing me again, right in front of her entire family. “Merry Christmas, Xolotl. I’m glad you’re here.”
Gabe interrupts, dropping five presents at Whitney’s feet. The biggest one is on the bottom, and I know just what it is. “Special delivery for the world’s most annoying lovebird.”
Whitney rolls her eyes. “The only annoying one here isn’t a lovebird.”
“I represent that remark.” Gabe moves some holiday wrap and sits on the chair next to us. “Now open, open. I helped, so I want to see how we did.”
“You asked Gabe for help?” Whitney directs her dubious expression my way. “Really?”
I shrug. “Your mom’s too scary.”
Helen starts laughing from the kitchen. “Truer words were never spoken.”
“Open, already.” Gabe’s patting his knees. “And for the record, I didn’t get you anything, because my true genius was in helping with these.”
“That’s more like it.” Whitney’s smiling as she opens the first outfit I made her—an asymmetrical dress in all black except for a few white splashes at the top and bottom.
She shrieks when she pulls it out, almost missing the black and white high heels at the bottom of the box.
“You got me the Gucci dress and Ferragamo heels I wanted?”
Gabe frowns. “So you’re actually excited about the clothes he got?”
Whitney hugs me tightly, still vaguely squawking. “These are—I can’t believe it.”
I don’t explain that I manifested them out of nothing, so they cost me not a single dollar. Humans seem to place a great deal of value in the price of things. She’s just as excited about the next three boxes, and I’m beginning to wonder whether I could’ve gotten away with just those.
Her mom perches on the edge of the sofa, watching the post-shrieking chattering with obvious curiosity.
“How did you know what to get her?” She pins me with one of her looks.
“And what size to choose for all of it? You are sleeping in separate rooms, no?” She’s been making a big deal out of us sleeping in separate rooms, as if that has some special significance. It’s giving me ideas.
“Of course we are, Mom. Xolotl’s been a perfect gentleman.”
That phrase also makes no sense. I’m pretty sure it’s related somehow to kissing, but I should’ve paid more attention to human carnal thoughts before, when I could.
It feels like I’m missing something big.
“I followed Whitney shopping one day and saw what clothing she wanted, and I have a unique ability,” I say, “to—”
Whitney drops a hand on my arm. “He’s got connections with a designer friend.”
Right.
The rest of his family doesn’t know what I can do.
“Just one box left.” Whitney has carefully piled up the clothing I chose. She picks up the box, and then she unwraps it. Her squeal this time is the largest yet.
I can’t quite contain my smile.
“This rifle’s amazing,” she says. “Do you know if it fires?”
“The vendor insisted that it did.”
“Vendor?” Helen shoots me a strange look. “Where did you say you’re from again?”
“He emigrated here from Russia,” Whitney says. “He’s a friend of Leonid’s.”
“He has no accent,” Helen says. “Say something in Russian.”
I comply, telling her, “You’re a very smart woman, but some people can speak multiple languages without an accent.” My Russian’s flawless, of course. Then I switch back to English. “And that’s not even the only language I speak.”
“How many languages do you speak?” David Park, Helen’s husband, asks.
I shrug. “I haven’t counted. A lot. It was a long-time hobby of mine, learning languages.”
“Korean?” he asks.
I switch to Korean. “Of course. What sort of linguist would I be if I couldn’t speak Korean?”
“You’re hired,” David says. “We’re always looking for good translators, and we could use him for all our stuff.” He looks at Helen. “With Zoom, he could live anywhere and still do what we need. Right?”
“Whoa.” Whitney stands. “You never offered me a job, and you know I’m looking.”
“You only speak English,” David says. “What would you translate?”
Whitney’s scowling. “I speak a little Spanish.”
“Dame un beso isn’t a little Spanish,” Gabe says.
“Please,” Whitney says. “Like I’d ever ask for a kiss.”
“You’ve been asking for kisses a lot lately.” Gabe’s smirking.
Whitney looks ready to punch her brother, but that’s common.
“Plus, you said you didn’t want to work for me,” Aunt Helen says.
“Yeah, but only because you’re the absolute worst boss.” Whitney laughs. “But David’s great.”
“I can help you find a job,” David says. “Let me know what you’re looking for.”
“Actually, I had an interview yesterday, and. . .” Whitney looks down at her phone. “Shoot.” Her shoulders slump. “Which I failed, I guess. They just notified me that I’m not advancing to the in-person interviews.” She deflates in front of me, just like that.
“How much would it pay if I were a translator for you?” I ask.
“Can you do both written and verbal translations?” Helen asks.
I shrug. “I think so.”
“We’d need an exact list of the languages you speak,” David says. “But we pay quite well for that sort of thing.”
“I’ll take the job,” I say, “with many thanks.”
“Best Christmas ever,” Gabe says. “But don’t forget our deal, right?”
I laugh. “I won’t.”
That night, when I finally head to bed, Whitney’s in my room, waiting. “You, sir, did quite well with the gifts tonight, and you found a job.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I feel like I’m adjusting pretty well, all things considered.”
“I thought it was time for your second present.” Whitney stands, running her hands from my chest down my body. “This present has different wrapping paper than the others, and you get to unwrap it yourself.” She beams up at me.
Something inside of me roars to life.
I have a feeling it’s going to be my best present yet.