by E. L. Todd
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Dad said.
“With ignorance like that, you’re going to knock up Trinity,” Mom said.
“Why do you do this?” Arsen whispered.
“We build a gingerbread house every year,” I whispered. “But it usually looks like a mess. We still have fun doing it, though.”
“Okay,” he said.
We worked together to build a house that was slanted to the right and looked like it might fall over any second.
“It’s like a ghost house,” Arsen said.
“With strippers,” Slade said, still using the marshmallows.
“I’m going to make a slide out of the fruit roll-up,” I said.
“Who’s going to use that?” Slade argued.
“People,” I snapped.
“Fruit roll-ups don’t even go with chocolate.” Slade rolled his eyes.
“Strip clubs aren’t for gingerbread houses.” I kicked him under the table.
“No fighting,” Dad said. He used the last of the fudge to make sure the house was glued together.
“Well, it looks…nice.” Mom cringed.
“It’s delicious no matter how…odd it looks,” Arsen said.
We all stared at it until the house collapsed.
Everyone started laughing, including my mom.
“Well, dig in,” Mom said.
We grabbed pieces of graham cracker and fudge with marshmallows and devoured it.
“So good,” Slade said. “I’m eating a stripper right now.”
“I like it better when Trinity is here,” Mom said. “You’re a lot more tolerable.”
“Mom, she gives me sex,” Slade said. “That’s why.”
Dad laughed. “Sounds about right.” He turned to Arsen. “We’re an odd family. I hope you don’t judge us.”
“Never,” Arsen said with a smile. “I’m having a great time.”
“People usually say we’re too loud,” Mom said.
“Which is true,” I added.
“So, do you go to school with Silke?” Dad asked.
Arsen suddenly stiffened.
I gave him an encouraging look, telling him to be honest.
“No,” he said. “I don’t. I’m actually a few years older than her.”
Dad nodded. “I’m older than Janice by a few years.”
“Old man,” Mom jabbed.
Dad ignored the comment. “So, you’re working, then?”
“Yeah.” Arsen didn’t elaborate.
“What do you do?” Dad sucked the chocolate off his fingers then grabbed another graham cracker.
Arsen paused for a moment before he answered. “I sell weed.” He took a deep breath and waited for the disapproval.
My dad flinched. He processed his words for a moment before he regained his bearings. “I see…”
The tension settled.
Arsen stayed quiet.
Dad rubbed the back of his neck. “I assume this is temporary?” He turned to Arsen.
“Yeah,” Arsen answered.
Mom released the breath she was holding. “Okay.” Then she looked at me, silently threatening to kill me if I even thought about trying weed.
“I knew a lot of kids growing up who were dealers just to get by until their other plans came through,” Dad said. “So, I hope this isn’t your career.”
“It’s not,” Arsen said.
“Okay.” Dad relaxed. “Do you involve my daughter with your business?”
“No,” Arsen said quickly. “She didn’t even realize what I did until I told her. I never bring her around my profession.”
Dad’s shoulders became less tense. “You must make a killing, then.”
Arsen raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “I do alright.”
“Do you keep the plants in the house with artificial light?” Dad asked.
Mom narrowed her eyes at him. “You sure know a lot about weed…”
Arsen continued. “I grow it in my spare bedroom. It’s easier to contain and hide from my neighbors.”
“Be careful,” Dad said.
Arsen shot me an apprehensive look, wondering if it was really that easy.
“What else do you do?” Dad asked.
Arsen shrugged. “I like to cruise on my Harley.”
“Seriously?” Dad asked. “You have one?”
Arsen smirked. “Yeah.”
“Awesome,” Dad said. “I’ve always wanted an Indian. Those things are sweet.”
“You’ve got a wife and kids to think about,” Mom reminded him.
“You never let me forget,” Dad jabbed.
“You don’t ride it, do you, honey?” my mom asked with fearful eyes.
“Sometimes,” I said.
“She always wears a helmet,” Arsen added. “And I’m a good driver.”
My mom looked like she might have a heart attack.
“Stop being a drama queen,” Dad said.
“Your daughter rides on the back of a motorcycle!”
“Arsen said he drives safe,” Dad said.
She rolled her eyes. “You need to stop being friends with your kids and start being a parent.”
“Oh, here we go.” Dad rolled his eyes. “Mom hates the fact that you kids like me more than her.”
“Well, you’re cool,” Slade said. “Mom is just a control freak.”
“I like you, Mom,” I said.
She smiled. “Well, thank you, honey. But please be careful on that bike.”
“I wouldn’t let anything happen to her,” Arsen said. He gave me a fond look then turned away.
“Baby, you need to live a little bit,” Dad said. “I can get shanked at work at any point in time. You could get hit by a cab and die. The world is a scary place, but that shouldn’t stop you from enjoying it.”
“Excuse my husband,” Mom said. “He’s a bit of a hippie.”
“I like it,” Arsen said. “You guys go well together—balance each other.”
“If Mom and Dad divorced, I’d live with Dad,” Slade said.
Dad looked like he might strangle him. “Don’t ever say that again.”
Slade immediately backed off. “Sorry…only joking.”
My parents argued like crazy, but they were always on the same side. Sometimes their bickering was annoying, but at the end of the day, it was clear they loved each other.
“Thank you.” Mom gave him a gentle smile.
“You and me until the end, baby.” He leaned across the table and gave her a quick kiss.
“Gross,” Slade mumbled.
“Your family was willing to spare you for the holidays?” Mom looked at Arsen.
Arsen hid the pain that question caused. “Yes, reluctantly.” He added a smile to make it more believable.
“I’m glad you’re here with us.” She patted his hand.
Arsen flinched at the affection. “Thank you.”
“You got any tattoos?” my dad blurted.
Arsen eyed him, considering the question. “No.”
“Oh.” Dad sounded disappointed. “I run a shop in the city. Well, two now.”
“That’s so cool,” Arsen blurted.
“I like it.” My dad shrugged, being humble. “And my son wants to take over the family business.”
“I was born into it,” Slade said.
“How long have you been doing that?” Arsen asked.
“Since I graduated high school.”
“Cool.” Arsen nodded. “What do you do, Janice?”
“She’s a hotshot at a publishing house. She’s the junior CEO now,” Dad explained. “She’s a college girl.” He gave her a fond look before he dropped it.
“That’s cool too,” Arsen said.
“No, it’s not,” Slade said. “It’s the most boring job in the world.”
“I like my job,” Mom said, offended. “Actually, I love it.”
Dad leaned toward Arsen. “She downgraded with me. But I’m not going to complain. I got a wife with looks, brains,
and sass.”
“I’ve got a lot of that last one,” Mom said.
“And I love every second of it.” He lowered his voice to Arsen. “Even when she slaps me. Actually, it’s pretty hot.”
Arsen chuckled. “Good to know.”
“And I taught Silke how to land a mean sucker punch,” Mom said as she nudged me in the side.
“Yeah.” I looked at Arsen. “You don’t want to piss me off.”
He smiled while he stared at me. “I’ll remember that.”
I hooked my arm through his and leaned close to him. Then I gave him a gentle kiss. He responded quickly then pulled away. My parents didn’t seem to care. They weren’t even watching us.
“Present time!” Dad said.
“Alright,” Slade said.
“Why are you excited?” Mom asked. “You already know everything you got.”
“But I can’t wait to see your face when you open my gifts.” Dad grabbed a box and handed it to her.
She smiled then opened it. She held up a book. “How to Cook for Dummies?”
“It has different recipes in it,” Dad said quickly. “That’s why I got it.”
Mom didn’t look amused. “I’m taking back that helicopter.”
“No.” He grabbed another gift and handed it to her. “Here. This one is better.”
“It better be,” she threatened. She opened the small box and took out a gold necklace. It caught the light from the tree and sparkled. “It’s beautiful, Ryan…”
“Look at the engraving.”
She flipped it over and read it out loud. “To my sassy wife, thanks for putting up with my shit. Merry Xmas.” She extended her arms out to him and hugged him. “I love it, babe.”
“I knew you would.” He kissed her gently then rubbed his nose against hers.
Arsen watched their interaction closely.
“I love you,” Mom whispered.
“I love you too.” He kissed her forehead then moved away. “Can I keep that helicopter now?”
“You may.” She put on the necklace and felt it in her fingers.
Dad grabbed a present and handed it to me. “For you, kiddo.”
I ripped it open and found a coffee mug. I stared at it for a moment as I examined every inch of it. It was full of different images and colors. Two figures were in every image, stick figures. One had a bow and the other was tall. On closer examination, I recognized all the paintings from my childhood, when my father took me to the zoo, the park, and picked me up from school. I knew he made it, designed it himself since he was such a meticulous artist. My eyes bubbled as I held it in my hands. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like it. I worked on that thing for months,” Dad said.
“It’s beautiful.” I hugged him tightly and blinked my tears away.
“Where’s mine?” Slade demanded.
“I got you something else.” Dad pulled away and handed him a gift.
Slade ripped open the paper and saw a tattoo needle set. Everything he needed was inside the box, including different ink. “Whoa!”
“I knew you’d like it,” Dad said.
“It’s sweet,” Slade said. He kept examining it. “But Silke’s is a lot more thoughtful…”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you a girl?”
Slade glared at me then looked down.
“Maybe this will change your mind.” Dad handed him a small gift. It looked like a picture frame.
Slade ripped it open then looked at it. It was an image of a tree with green leaves. A few were falling to the ground, and the closer they got to the earth, the more red they became.
I had no idea what it meant.
“The tattoo I wanted to get…?” Slade looked at Dad. “You drew it for me?”
“Actually, I’m going to get the same one.” He stared at Slade and didn’t blink. “In the same place.”
My family knew what that meant. Dad didn’t have any tattoos besides his wedding band. He said he wouldn’t get another one unless it really meant something. The fact that he wanted to share an identical one with Slade was a big deal.
“Seriously?” Slade’s jaw dropped. “You are?”
“Yeah.” My dad smirked.
“Aww…” Mom covered her face. “So cute.”
“This is awesome!” Slade moved into his arms and hugged him tightly. “It’s going to look so sick.”
Dad chuckled. “Yeah, it will.”
“I’ll do yours, and you’ll do mine.”
Dad shook his head. “Um, I’ll pass. You don’t have enough experience yet.”
“Whatever,” Slade said.
We exchanged the rest of our gifts, and Mom handed Arsen a few.
He stared at them apprehensively. “Uh…what are these?”
“These are for you.” Mom gave him a bright smile. “Open them.”
“You got me gifts?” Arsen didn’t know what to do. He was in shock and lost his cool.
“Well, that’s what people do on Christmas,” Slade said sarcastically. “Get with the program, man.”
“Shut up, Slade.” I didn’t look at him when I said it.
“I…I can’t take these.” Arsen pushed them back. “But thank you,” he added.
“Nonsense.” Dad handed them back. “If you’re important to Silke, you’re important to us.”
Arsen was put on the spot and had nowhere to run.
“It’s okay.” I touched his hand. “Go ahead.”
With all eyes on him, he opened the first one. It was a set of old records. The Beatles, Jimi Hendrix, and the Doors were included. Arsen felt them in his hands while he stared down at them with wide eyes.
“Silke told us what music you like,” Dad explained. “I got these from a friend of mine. They’re original and still sound great.”
Arsen stared at them, speechless. “I…don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
“Of course.” Mom patted his shoulder.
“You got more.” Dad pushed them closer.
Arsen took another breath before he opened the second one. It was a set of guitar picks. They were different colors, all in neon. “These are great.” He felt each one in his hand.
“They glow in the dark so you won’t lose them,” Mom explained. “Silke told us you play the guitar.”
“You do?” Slade asked. “We should jam together sometime.”
Arsen was still digesting everything, and his response was weak. “Yeah…that’d be cool.” He eyed the last package then opened it. It was a gift card from my dad for his shop.
“If you ever want a tattoo, it’s on me,” Dad said. “I do a pretty good job.”
“Thanks,” Arsen said. “Maybe someday.” He held the paper in his hands and kept his gaze averted. Then he looked up again. “Thank you for everything… That was really nice of you.”
“Of course,” Mom said. “You’re our guest. We were so excited to have you join us.”
I squeezed Arsen’s hand, reminding him I was there.
“I…I didn’t bring you guys anything,” he said hesitantly.
“Don’t worry about that,” Mom said immediately. “Honestly, we didn’t expect you to bring anything. Besides, we’re old. We already have everything we want.” She shot my dad a glare. “Especially when someone buys whatever they want all year-round.”
“You’re one to talk,” Dad shot back. “All I have to do is look in your closet to see where my paycheck goes.”
“You mean my paycheck,” she snapped. “I buy my pretty things with my own money.”
Dad rolled his eyes. “That’s not what my mortgage bill says.”
She threw a bow from a present at him.
“Ouch,” he said sarcastically. “That hurt so much.”
“Oh, I’ll hurt you, alright,” Mom threatened.
Arsen jumped to his feet then left the apartment without looking back. He walked away so quickly we couldn’t process it. He didn’t say goodbye or where he was going.
Slade raised an
eyebrow. “Uh, did I miss something?”
“Is he okay?” Mom asked.
My dad watched me.
“He…he didn’t have a good childhood. Actually, he doesn’t have any family. I think you guys…really moved him.” I wanted to keep his secret, but I had to explain his behavior so he wouldn’t seem rude.
My mom clutched her chest. “Oh, that’s so terrible. Silke, I’m so glad you brought him. Everyone deserves a happy Christmas.”
I nodded. “I think you gave it to him… He just wasn’t ready for it.”
Dad moved to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”
I knew what he was doing. “Just give him some space. He’ll be fine.”
Dad ignored me and walked out the door.
“He’s not going to yell at him, right?” I asked apprehensively.
Mom shook her head. “No, dear. Not at all.”
“Then what’s he going to say?” I asked.
Mom started to clean up the mess. “That’s between them.”
105
Arsen
It was too much. The only Christmas I’d ever had was listening to my mom screw some guy for money so we had groceries and a place to live. Kids at school would show off their new toys, and I always had empty pockets. I’d never had a happy childhood, nor was I a happy child.
Was that how Christmas was supposed to be? Were families always that happy? Silke’s parents treated me like they already cared about me. They didn’t care that I sold weed or drove a Harley. They accepted me, no questions asked.
That’d never happened before…
They were just like Silke. They had compassion like I’d never known. They weren’t judgmental, giving me the benefit of the doubt before forming an opinion. They showered me with gifts and made me feel welcomed even though they hardly knew me.
It was…unbelievable.
Now I understood where Silke got her beauty from, and I didn’t just mean physically. She was selfless and trusting, seeing the good in me when I didn’t see it myself. Or when I forgot it even existed. She made me feel alive when I was dead. She made me…happy.
I headed down the stairs until I was a few floors away. I just needed space, a moment to catch my breath and not break down. Repressing painful memories was my specialty, but when her family showed me love, I couldn’t contain it. It was too much, too kind.
My mother had never been kind to me.