“Where is the jacket now,” I asked.
“Unfortunately Grandpa died a-year-ago and even though he contemplated giving me the jacket he couldn’t part with it so he was buried with that jacket.”
Although he understood, I knew Jamie was devastated because that jacket was his last remaining link to his Grandpa and now displayed in front of me is that jacket. Sure, it’s not worn out and fraying at the shoulders like Grandpa James’ was but it is the exact same jacket, I am sure of it. Jamie showed me a picture of it and this is it!
“Oh my God!” I shout stopping Amber mid step, “This is it!”
“Geez you nearly gave me a heart attack. What’s it?” Amber says looking through the store window.
“This, the jacket,” I tap on the glass to direct Amber’s eyes to the right place. “This is exactly what I was looking for.”
Amber’s eyes twinkle and she grabs my hand and drags me into the store. I am feeling exhilarated and am already picturing Jamie’s reaction when I give him the jacket. I wonder if he’ll cry. No, I hope he doesn’t. I would feel terrible if I made him cry. As I pull the jacket off the hanger I feel overwhelmed with emotion myself. I feel like with this jacket I can give Jamie a piece of his Grandfather back and I can’t think of anything better than that.
-14-
It’s Christmas Eve, my first with Jamie, and I have absolutely nothing festive to wear. How is this possible? Every other year I’ve worn something either red or green topped off with this cute Santa hat that sings Jingle Bells every time I rock my head back and forth. This year all of my red and green outfits seem really ugly and the Santa hat is just stupid. Besides everything I have tried on with this brace makes me look like I am this year’s Christmas tree, which is so fitting considering it is the opposite of how I want to look around Jamie.
He’s seen the entire brace and yet I am still freaking out about what to wear around him. I thought the whole insecure thing went away after the first few weeks of a relationship especially after the couple has had sex; shouldn’t I be able to walk around him in my pajamas by now or at the very least sweats? Screw it! I am just going to pick out the first festive dress I find that can fit over the brace and that is going to be that.
I slide into the red quarter sleeve dress with the bedazzled snowflake on the chest and it barely fits but it will have to do because I refuse to throw another outfit into the “my brace tore a hole in the fabric,” pile on my bed. I grab one of the black hair ties off the dresser and tie my hair into a ponytail and complete it with a red and green headband. I’m not about to wear the Santa hat but if I don’t wear some kind of Christmas headdress my parents will give me grief about it all night. One quick glance in the mirror and I am as good as I am going to get in the two minutes before Jamie is scheduled to arrive. I pull out the wrapped box where the jacket is hidden beneath two layers of sparkle wrapping paper and silver bow. I feel giddy thinking about giving it to him.
Ding dong! That must be Jamie! I can’t believe my first boyfriend Christmas is about to begin! Eek!
I hear one of my parents shuffle to the front door. “Hi Jamie,” my father says. “Merry Christmas-Eve!”
“Merry Christmas Eve to you too Mr. Marks,” Jamie replies.
“Oh come on Jamie, you can be calling me Jason by now,” my father insists.
As they’re engaged in polite chatter, I make one last check on the wrapping job, take a swift glance in the mirror and head downstairs.
My parents have Jamie huddled by the fire. He must be sweltering with all the heat from the fire and the thickness of his sweater. When I invited him to join us for Christmas Eve I had warned him about my parent’s obsession with the holiday and joked that he would have to wear something festive, I didn’t think he would actually do it. I feel like I am looking at a scene from a caveman movie as I approach the three most important people in the world to me. They’re all sitting close together with their legs and arms folded. My parents have shut off all the downstairs lights leaving only the flickering fire and twinkling lights to illuminate the house.
“So Jamie, now that we know each other a bit, tell me, what are your intentions with our daughter?” my father teases.
Jamie unfolds his arms and looks like a truck hit him. I know when my dad is joking but my poor caught-off-guard boyfriend does not.
“Wha...what?” Jamie stutters.
I can almost see the sweat beading on his forehead.
“What do you intend on doing with her? Are you with her for the long haul or are you just in it for the nookie?” my father says raising his voice.
“Nookie? No, Sir I…” Jamie stammers.
“Just know that if you break her heart I will come down on you so hard you’ll wish…”
“Dad, stop that!” I say as I enter the living room. Of course, in my mind I am picturing myself swooping in like a superhero there to save Jamie from the big bad dad. “He doesn’t know you well enough to know when you’re teasing. It’s just mean.”
Jamie bolts to his feet and can’t get to me fast enough. He wraps his arms around me but it’s more than a hug it’s like a giant “thank you.” I wonder what else my father, or my mother for that matter, said before I came downstairs. I shoot my parents a warning look.
“I swear I was good,” my mom says raising her arms in the air like she’s being arrested.
“Dad?” I say, taking the same tone he uses on me when he knows I’m guilty of something.
“I could have been worse. Come on honey you know we had to break him in. If he’s going to roll with my kid he has to be able to handle your crazy parents,” Dad retorts.
Jamie pulls away and winks. “You’re right Jason, that look on her face is priceless.”
Now I’m confused. “What is going on?”
“Sorry kiddo I couldn’t resist,” my dad says as he high fives Jamie.
They’re messing with me. My parents knew I was nervous about tonight and they wanted to get a good laugh at my expense. I’m glad to see Jamie and my parents get along so well but I wish they would get along about something that doesn’t nearly give me a heart attack.
“Ha-freaking-ha. Very funny,” I say in the most monotone voice I can possibly make. “Let’s make April jump out of her skin for the holidays. Yay.”
Jamie lifts me in a twirling hug and kisses me gently on the cheek. Okay, fine I forgive him but I’m still mad at my parents, especially my dad.
“So, is that my gift?” Jamie asks pointing to the present that I’m still clinging to.
I jerk it behind my back as if that will prevent him from thinking about it.
“I forgot I was holding it,” I respond. “I meant to slip it under the tree before you saw it.”
“Well then,” Jamie says quietly and moves aside and bows as I walk by.
I place the present under the tree, which has so many red and green wrapped gifts there isn’t much room for anything else. I wonder which gift is from Jamie. Every size gift imaginable is under this tree; did he get me jewelry? Charlie used to get me jewelry all the time, nothing too spectacular, but always something different. Half of my jewelry collection came from him. Amber always said I was lucky that Charlie doted on me like that but it always felt like bribery to me. Sort of, “If you remain my girlfriend I’ll keep buying you jewelry.”
“Well, Jamie, since you’re new to our Christmas traditions we will ease you in gently,” my mom says gleefully.
In this house around the holidays I’m not really sure what “gently” means. I can’t imagine my parents being willing to change up our holiday traditions just because Jamie is here. Every year while mom cooks dinner, usually a goose or some kind of pasta dish, dad and I sit in the living room reading, Twas the Night Before Christmas. Once dinner is ready we gather around the table and have a festive meal. Once dinner is done we go into the living room for hot chocolate, Christmas tree shaped sugar cookies and to sing Christmas carols. Some years, if the weather allows, we go caroling a
round our neighborhood. Once the caroling is complete, meaning after we’ve visited the Martins and they’ve told us to get off their stoop, we go home to open presents. This is our holiday tradition and it never changes. Crap! I wish I had remembered the caroling and singing before I invited Jamie over. I sound like a dying cat when I sing.
“So no caroling this year?” I ask, crossing my fingers behind my back.
“Oh no, of course we’re caroling this year,” mom replies. “It wouldn’t be Christmas without the Martins yelling at us.”
“Really? But mom,” I start but am swiftly interrupted by an overzealous boyfriend.
“You go caroling?” Jamie jumps in and is practically beaming.
“Yeah,” I say under my breath.
“Girl can hold a tune I tell ya,” my father says as he brushes by and places a hand on Jamie’s shoulder.
“Can she now?” Jamie says looking at me like I’m some world famous musician. “Alright Ms. April let’s hear those chops.”
“No way! Absolutely not.”
“She’s just shy right now. You just wait until we go a-caroling Mr. Clarke you are going to be impressed with our girl here, “dad exclaims.
“Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s get our caroling on!” Jamie boasts.
“Okay first of all the fact that you’re excited about hearing me sing proves just how unprepared you are for a Marks’ Christmas,” I tease. “Secondly we don’t go caroling until after dessert. Trust me my singing is truly nothing to boast about.”
“Oh come on April, don’t pretend like you weren’t looking forward to tonight. If I’m not mistaken I saw you change your outfit at least five times before Jamie got here,” my dad says as my mother shakes her head to try to get him to stop but it’s too late.
I don’t want to sing in front of him because contrary to my father’s delusions I can’t carry a tune even if I wanted to. I’ve heard Jamie sing before and if anyone can carry a tune it’s him, which makes the idea of singing in front of him more terrifying and mortifying.
“Mom, dad, can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask before my mom heads off to the kitchen to finish cooking dinner.
“Sure, what’s up?” dad asks as he throws himself on the couch with ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas.
“In private please,” I say motioning for them to follow me into the foyer. They do.
“Sweetie what is this about? You’re being rude to your guest,” mom says sternly.
“I know but this will just take a second,” I promise. “Look you know how much I love our holiday traditions and not once have I asked to skip out on any of our festivities, right?” Both my parents nod in agreement. “I just thought that since it is Jamie’s first Christmas with us, and it’s my first Christmas with him, that maybe we could skip out on the caroling and spend some time together...just the two of us. I have a present that I’d really like to give him, in private.”
Once the words leave my mouth I hear how incriminating they sound and apparently so does my father. His face contorts, his eyes are wide, his mouth dropped and his cheeks turn as red as my dress. To them it must sound like I am planning on giving Jamie my virginity for Christmas. I haven’t told my parents about what happened after the Halloween party and I don’t think I ever will. I don’t want them to stop letting Jamie come over or worse, lecture me about the birds and the bees. Brilliant choice of words April. I need to mend this situation and quickly otherwise it’s We Wish You a Merry Christmas for me.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” I stammer trying to rectify the situation. “I just meant that, I spent hours at the stupid Mall looking for the perfect gift for him and just when I was about to give up there it was staring at me. It’s the perfect gift and I want to give it to him in private. You know I’d never ask if it weren’t important to me. Come on of all people you two should understand how I am feeling. I highly doubt you would have wanted to spend your first Christmas together with Grandma and Grandpa.”
My parents exchange sinister glances and burst into a wild giggle. I’m not sure what I’ve said that is so funny but I don’t really like being laughed at.
“She’s babbling, Jason,” mom says to my father in between giggles.
“It must be important then,” dad replies matching my mother’s immature laughter.
“Excuse me?” I chime in and cross my arms.
“We always know when something is important to you because you start babbling about it,” mom says catching her breath and allowing the giggle to recede. “When you were five you wanted this rocking horse so badly you went on for almost half an hour about it. Eventually we bought it just to shut you up.”
“You’re comparing my boyfriend to a freaking rocking horse?”
“I guess so, but please don’t take my comparison literally when you’re alone with him later and are giving him your special present,” my mother says with a wink.
“Gross! Mom, stop that. You know that isn’t what I meant!”
“Yeah, Anna, please stop,” my dad, says with disgust. “Joking about my daughter having sex isn’t Christmassy.”
I just want this conversation to end, whatever the outcome.
“So?” I ask.
“It’s fine with me if it’s okay with your father,” mom says plainly.
I turn to my father and cup my hands together pleadingly.
“Okay, but you keep your light on, door and blinds open at all times,” dad says using his finger for emphasis. “And remember a father always knows what is going on even when he isn’t in the room.”
I roll my eyes. I appreciate him trying to be threatening but staring at me with his bifocals it’s really hard to take his threats seriously. Jamie towers over my dad and his arms are about the size of dad’s neck; somehow I don’t see him being intimidated by this middle-aged man either.
“I promise,” I reply putting two fingers up like I’m still in girl scouts. “Scout’s honor.”
My parents exchange a few silent words communicating through their minds, something they do far too often. I think my parents can actually read minds. Either that or they’re aliens.
“Okay,” my father says once their mental communication has ended, “I suppose you can skip caroling this year.”
I let out a squeal and wrap my parents in a group hug and sprint back into the living room for holiday tradition number one.
I am really looking forward to reading ‘Twas. In fact, every tradition this year is thrilling because they’re all just one-step closer to the moment when I can have Jamie all to myself and I can finally give him his present. I just hope Jamie wasn’t really looking forward to caroling.
-15-
Jamie is getting along famously with my parents and I’m really in the whole Christmas spirit. However, I wouldn’t mind if dessert would go a little faster considering I can hardly sit still. I don’t pay much attention to the conversation during dinner except when my name is mentioned. Of course my ears perk up for these stories because I have to make sure my parents don’t tell Jamie anything too incriminating. Luckily I’ve trained them well and they steer clear of any April pooping stories and stick to cutesy tales of how adorable and creative and loving I was and still am.
Finally it’s time for the parental units to go caroling and for us to have our alone time. Jamie excuses himself from the living room, where my parents prepare their voices, I grab the gift from under the tree and sprint it upstairs to my bedroom. I come down in time to see Jamie waving my parents off on their caroling adventure. He shuts the front door and turns to face me with his hands snug inside the pockets of his slacks. He is so damn handsome. Standing here with Jamie’s arms wrapped around my waist, or what should be my waist but is actually the plastic part of the brace (yuck), the idea of sex does seem appealing. But I promised my father I wouldn’t, although internally I just promising not to do it tonight. I just wish Jamie would stop looking at me like that. With the twinkle in his eyes and his crooked smile, it�
��s killing me.
“So where’s this perfect gift you told your parents about?’ Jamie asks and squeezes the small of my back pulling me into him.
“Crap! You heard all that?” I ask.
“The foyer isn’t exactly soundproof, April.”
I smack my hand to my forehead. “I sounded like a five-year-old.”
Jamie pulls my hand off my forehead and kisses it. “I think it happens to be adorable that you wanted me all to yourself tonight and if I’m being honest I’ve wanted to get you all to myself all night.”
I give him a peck on the lips but now my heart is racing and my head is foggy. Does he want me alone because he expects sex? Maybe going upstairs isn’t the best idea. If we do I don’t think I’ll be able to resist and God forbid my parents hit the Martins house first and come home early and catch us. The thought makes me shiver.
“Cold?” Jamie asks as he rapidly rubs my arms producing heat.
Cold is the last thing I am feeling right now. Oh how I wish I were wearing black right now then maybe the sweat stains would be less obvious. Damn my parents and their silly Christmas festive traditions.
“I’m okay,” I say stepping out of his arms. “Why don’t you wait here and I’ll get your gift and bring it down to you.”
“I thought you wanted to give it to me in your room?”
“I did but it’s actually not an in-my-room kind of a gift,” I am babbling again.
Jamie smiles, another irresistible smirk. “April, if you don’t want me in your room because you didn’t clean up just let me know. But if you don’t want me coming up because you think I’m expecting something to happen then you needn’t worry. I don’t think we’re going to have sex now every time we’re alone. Besides, as your father said, sex isn’t very Christmassy.”
The Tragedy of Loving Jamie Clarke Page 9