Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Grak
Ginger’s siblings are leaving tomorrow, so we’re exchanging gifts today.
I pour the last drop from the wish vial into Mom’s tea and stir it. Looking over my right shoulder, I feel assured that no one saw. The family is all in the living room waiting for me.
“Grak, everyone is waiting to give you your presents…wait…what are you doing?”
I failed to ensure I was completely alone. Ginger is small and sneaky. I hide the small vial in my grip.
“Making tea for Mom.”
Ginger steps back from me as I turn around, the spoon stirring around in the little snowman mug. The way she crosses her arms sends a message. “What did you put in it?”
I clear my throat. “Uh…sugar.”
Ginger squints. “Let me smell it.”
Sighing, I lower the mug and hand it to her. Ginger keeps her gaze on mine and sniffs the mug. Her eyes widen when she gets the aroma.
“You used your magic!” she whispers loudly.
“Mom is waiting for her tea.”
“Grak! You still have some magic in that vial to get home, right?”
I repeat myself, and Ginger grows impatient.
She deserves an explanation, but there’s no time. Once dispensed, the magic needs to be consumed before it loses its power.
Having no choice, I take the mug and turn toward the living room.
“Thank you, dear,” Mom says.
“You must drink all of it,” I say.
I hope my face communicates enough.
“You made it for me. I sure will,” she says.
Nodding, I back away and clumsily head back toward the kitchen.
“Grak, this is for you,” Dad says.
I stare at the small, shiny green present with the sparkly bow attached.
“You got me a gift? I do not have a gift for you…Dad.”
“We all chipped in,” May says. I look over at Ginger’s sister, who is seated on the floor with the little ones, playing with their new action figures and building blocks.
“But I…”
I do not know how to finish that sentence. Mom says, “You’ve given us more than anything we could have hoped for this Christmas.”
Gingerly, I take the gift from Dad and weigh it in my hands. It looks so small, but it feels like a jewel. No one has ever given me a wrapped present like this before. This feels so odd and emotional.
“I only do what I know how to do. I do what needs to be done. That is all that I know how to do. I do not know about giving and buying gifts.”
Dad scoffs. “Son, you’ve done more to help our little farm recover in this economy than any of us could have done. More than recover. We’ll be in the black, by a long shot.”
“You called me son.”
“Yeah. We do that around here.”
I look around the semi-circle with everyone watching me. This is the ritual I’ve seen in movies. Everyone watches each other open gifts. It is strange, but I do as I’m expected to do.
The sparkly ribbon pulls away, and the green paper tears like nothing under my fingers. Inside is a box, and inside the box is…
“Socks?”
Mom smiles proudly. “It’s a stocking for you. To hang by the fireplace. I hope you’ll stay at the farm and know that as long as you and Ginger are together, you’ll have a place in our family.”
I examine the snowman pattern, the snowflakes, the dark starry night sky.
“You…made this?” I ask Mom.
She nods. “I knitted everyone’s Christmas stocking. I had one started a long time ago in case Ginger ever got engaged, but life’s too short. It’s yours.”
“Mom, you should not have done so much work,” I say.
Mom waves me off. “What else am I going to do in that chair while I’m getting treatments? Please.”
Wetness has leaked from my eyes, and my cheeks are both wet with tears. “I have no words. Thank you.”
“May, let’s go check on that roast turkey,” Dad says. Before I know it, everyone has exited the living room to let me cry it out in peace.
Ginger’s small hand is on my arm. “Let’s go downstairs so you can compose yourself.”
In the basement, Ginger closes the door and stands up on the bed so she can look directly into my face.
“I know what you did. I saw the vial on the counter, and it’s empty.”
“Oops.”
“Grak, did you use the last of your North Pole magic to heal my mom?”
Her chin wobbles.
“Yes, Ginger. I did.”
“So you…you can’t ever go home?”
“I hope it is not too bold of me to say, but I am already home.”
“It’s not too bold, because I’m keeping you.”
I let out a breath that feels as if I’ve been holding it for my whole life. My forehead rests against Ginger’s.
Hers. She’s keeping me, and I’m hers.
“You may keep me for as long as you wish.”
She chuckles and presses her hand to my cheek.
“I wish to keep you forever,” she says.
The wonderful ache in my chest expands.
“That is my wish too.”
She exhales. “As long as all this wishing doesn’t create more magic, because I swear to god if it does, no one is using it to travel to the North Pole.”
I chuckle and pull her up close so I can reach her mouth, pressing a kiss against her soft lips. “It doesn’t. It won’t. If it does, it’s irrelevant. Because I’m here with you, wherever you go. If you want to go somewhere else, I’ll go with you.”
“I want to stay right here,” she says. “With you. Forever.”