by Sera Trevor
But the last few months had seen a turnaround. She was sober and working in Zeke’s surf shop. Noah was hopeful that she’d turned a corner. Still, he couldn’t blame Oscar for being a little apprehensive. Rebecca had a tendency to make scenes. But that was only when she wasn’t sober. And she was now. Hopefully.
Noah and Carmen spent a pleasant morning preparing Christmas dinner, and soon enough Noah’s senseless dread faded. At exactly two o’clock, the doorbell rang. Noah opened the door. It was Zeke, with Rebecca in tow.
Zeke looked the same as always, with his wavy gray hair and deeply tanned skin. He always wore a Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and flip-flops, no matter the weather. He looked so much like a California native that it was easy to forget he’d spent most of his life as a buttoned-down Witness in New Hampshire. Zeke’s courage in leaving the Witnesses planted the seed in Noah’s mind that there might be an out for him, too. Zeke’s act of courage was braver than his, in a way, for he truly had no one when he left. Noah had Zeke.
He gave his uncle a hug before turning to his sister. He gave her a quick once-over. It had been a few weeks since he’d last seen her. She wore a long red dress with a black shrug. She’d twisted her long, dark hair into a bun. She was still thin, but no longer in a way that made her seem skeletal. She wasn’t swaying or slurring. Sober. Doing well, by the looks of her, although she still had that that wounded look in her eyes that never seemed to go away.
Noah drew her into a tight hug. “Becks,” he said, his voice muffled by her hair. He pulled away. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
She smiled a little, although her expression seemed pinched.
Noah stood back and gestured inside. “Come on in.”
“Merry Christmas!” Zeke said to the family. He held up a bag. “Who wants Christmas flip-flops?”
There was laughter as he passed them around—it had become a tradition, complete with a story. “When I was a boy,” he said, as he did every year, “I heard that it could be so warm at Christmas in California that you could wear flip-flops. And that’s when I decided California was the place for me.”
Noah examined his pair. They had Santa on a surfboard, his bag of presents balanced behind him as he caught a wave. Zeke had them specially made for his store every year, and they sold very well.
Rebecca held back as Zeke greeted the family, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She’d missed last Christmas. Two Christmases ago, she’d shown up drunk and knocked over the Christmas tree. It must have taken a lot of courage for her to come today.
But Carmen did not allow Rebecca to linger in the doorway for more than a minute. “Rebecca!” She held her arms open wide. “We are so happy to see you!” She enveloped Rebecca—no one hugged quite as warmly as Carmen. “And look how pretty you are! But too skinny still. Come, you be my taste tester.”
Carmen led Rebecca into the kitchen. Noah turned to Zeke when she was gone. “How’s she doing?”
“Pretty good,” he said. “Been a real help around the shop. And she’s even talking about community college.”
Noah brightened. “Really?”
“Yeah. Looking into veterinary tech. You know how she loves animals.”
“That’s really good to hear.” And it was. But it was sad that he heard it from Zeke rather than Rebecca. When she was a kid, before he had left, they’d been close. He kept telling himself she would come around, but it had been years since she’d left home for California. Would she ever forgive him?
He pushed the gloomy thoughts aside. It was Christmas, after all, and she was doing well. That should be enough.
Zeke joined Jean-Michael on the floor, helping him put together his new Lego set. Bette supervised, sitting in her jungle-themed ExerSaucer. She pounded her new rattle on the tray and blew raspberries at Zeke.
Oscar approached Noah, munching on Christmas cookies. “Rebecca seems good.”
“She does.”
“Think it’ll stick this time?” he asked, before taking another bite of cookie.
Noah gave him a reproachful look. “We need to be supportive.”
“What?” Oscar said around his mouthful of cookie. “I’m supportive!” He swallowed. “I’m just saying, it’s not the first time she’s cleaned up her act.”
Noah folded his arms around himself. “Yeah, I know.”
Shortly afterward, Crystal and Jeremy arrived with their kids—Ruby, who was now six, and the twins, Jasper and Jewel, who were three, all in their Christmas finest. Bette squealed with delight at the appearance of her “cousins”—there wasn’t a good term for the children of her surrogate mother, but “cousin” was probably the closest. Noah allowed himself to be distracted from his concerns about Rebecca.
Dinner was soon served: chili and cheese tamales with a spicy tomatillo sauce, fluffy rice made orange with spices, and rich refried beans, accompanied by a bright garden salad. Everyone seemed happy, except Rebecca, who picked at her food and said next to nothing, despite several attempts to get her involved in the conversation. Noah frowned. She looked so pale. Wasn’t she supposed to be doing better?
When everyone was stuffed, Alex and Carmen began their annual fight about the dishes. Alex insisted that her mother relax while she and the others took care of the dishes, but Carmen refused to give up dominion over her kitchen.
Everyone else retreated. Oscar returned to his movie with Stephanie, taking Jeremy along with him; Crystal took the kids into the backyard to play; Nikki read Sophia’s fortune, who looked way more into it than Noah would have expected; Zeke and Miguel drank beer together on the patio.
Rebecca sat alone on the couch by the Christmas tree, her shoulders hunched. Noah hesitated before joining her, ashamed of his cowardice. He never knew what to say to her, how to make her better. It seemed like he always made things worse.
But as he gathered his courage, she spotted him, and she was the one to approach him. She took out a gift bag from under the tree and handed it to him. “For the baby.”
Noah accepted it, stunned. While he had given her presents every year since she left their parents, this was the first time she’d given one herself. “Thank you,” he said with as much feeling as he could.
She smiled a little. “Aren’t you going to open it?”
“Of course. Let’s go sit down.”
Once they were settled on the couch, Noah pulled out the tissue paper. Inside was a onesie, a pair of pants, and some cute socks. Written on the onesie was “Best Niece Ever.” Noah’s eyes filled with tears.
Rebecca bit her lip. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” He pulled her into a tight hug. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” He pulled away. “I’ve got something for you, too.” He grabbed a bag from under the tree and handed it to her. She opened it and pulled out a seal plushie and a certificate. “It’s a symbolic adoption,” Noah said. “The money goes to helping harbor seals.”
She didn’t respond right away, staring at the toy. She ran her hand over its fur, looking into its eyes. “Do you remember the speeches you would give about Christmas when we were little? You know, to the worldly kids. You’d always tell them how Jehovah’s Witness kids didn’t have to wait until Christmas or their birthday to get presents. You always seemed so sure.” She looked up at him at last. “Did you ever really believe it, or were you lying then too?”
It was like a knife to the heart. “Becks—”
“Why did you leave me?” she asked, tears in her eyes. “You were all I had.”
Noah opened and shut his mouth several times. He felt like he might throw up. He’d been avoiding this conversation for years. In fact, it had been so long that he thought he might have escaped it entirely.
He took a deep breath to steel himself. He owed her an answer. “You were a minor. I couldn’t take you from them, not legally. I was barely more than a kid myself. And—you seemed like such a true believer. Whenever I brought up the idea of leaving, you were always so adamant that you loved Jehovah.”
The knife in his heart twisted. “No, of course not! I had to wait until you were an adult—you had just turned eighteen. I would have reached out to you, but you beat me to it.” He tried a smile, but it faltered under her gaze. “You believe me, don’t you?”
She pressed her fingers to her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Becks—”
“I’m going to go help in the kitchen.” She kissed him quickly on the cheek and got up. “Thanks for the gift.” Before he could say anything else, she was gone.
Noah felt hollow. Shame echoed through him. Should he go after her?
Crystal came through the door, holding Bette. Spit-up covered her Christmas ensemble. “Sorry,” Crystal said. “I went to burp her and she exploded.”
Noah held out his arms. “I’ll clean her up.” Bette gurgled happily and wiggled her limbs as Crystal handed her to him. So much for Christmas pictures.
2
The weather was sunny and crisp on New Year’s Eve, a perfect day for a picnic. Noah fussed over Bette’s jacket even though it was about 60 degrees. In New Hampshire where he grew up, winter temperatures were well below freezing. He’d lived in California for nine years now, but the mild winters surprised him every year. Would he ever get used to it?
He and Oscar met Jeremy, Crystal, and their brood at their favorite park. Jeremy chased after Ruby and the twins while Oscar, Noah, and Crystal set up their little potluck on a picnic table—nothing fancy, just sandwiches, chips, and Jeremy’s potato salad. It was the only recipe he was capable of making, so it made an appearance at most of their potlucks. Noah settled Bette in her portable baby chair. She kicked and shook her teething ring.
“So,” Crystal said, “how’s the teething going?”
Bette grinned as if on cue, showing off her bottom tooth.
“I think the second one is almost here. At least, I hope so. We could really use a break,” Noah said.
“I hear you. Teething was a nightmare for the twins—double the teeth, double the fun. Did you try the frozen pancakes? They really helped.”
“Yes,” Noah lied. Truthfully, he was too nervous to give Bette any food to gnaw on her own. What if she choked? What if she was allergic to eggs?
“What pancakes?” Oscar asked, dumping a bag of chips into a bowl.
Noah tensed. “You know, the teething pancake recipe Crystal gave us.”
Oscar frowned. “I thought you said we shouldn’t in case she’s got an egg allergy or something.”
Heat rushed to Noah’s face. He glared at Oscar before daring a glance up at Crystal. Would she be annoyed? “Oh,” he sputtered. “Well, I changed my mind.”
Crystal’s eyelids fluttered in what might have been an eyeroll. Or perhaps he was imagining things. “You won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t take my advice. You’re her dad, not me.”
“But I like your advice!” he protested. He was saved from further embarrassment by Ruby, who raced over to the table, drawn by the open bag of chips, her long braids bouncing behind her. She thrust her hand in the bowl before Crystal could say anything. “What’s that?” she asked around her mouthful of chips, pointing at Bette’s teething ring.
“It’s a teething ring,” Crystal said. “To help her mouth feel better now that her teeth are coming in.”
Ruby thought while she chewed. She turned her freckled face to Noah. “I’m opposite teething right now, see?” She bared her teeth. One of them was missing at the bottom.
“I see that!” Noah said. “Did the tooth fairy come?”
“Yeah, I got five bucks. Daddy says if I lost all of my teeth, I’d get $100, so I’m going to eat lots of candy so they all fall out.”
Oscar laughed. “You’re a real smart kid, you know that?”
Crystal put her hands on her hips. “Don’t encourage her.”
Jeremy hauled the twins over shortly after, and they all tucked in. “So,” Jeremy asked when they were settled, “anyone have any New Year’s resolutions?”
“I gotta get back to the gym,” Oscar said. “I’m getting a gut.”
Noah kissed Oscar’s temple. “You don’t have a gut.”
“Are you kidding?” Oscar pulled up his shirt and stuck out his stomach. “Then what do you call this?”
“A little tummy. I think it’s cute.”
Oscar gave him a look. “Oh, I see where this is headed. You’ve got a thing for bears now, don’t you? And you’re determined to fatten me up for your pleasure.”
Noah’s face flamed, his gaze darting over to Ruby and the twins. “Oscar,” he said through clenched teeth, gesturing with his head to Ruby. “Kids here.”
“So? Kids love bears too!” Oscar stood and held up his arms, curling his hands into claws. “What do you think, Ruby? Do I look like a bear?”
“No.”
“Oh yeah? What if I eat you up?” He launched himself at her. She squealed with delight and took off, with Oscar in hot pursuit. He caught her and tossed her up, pretending to eat her belly while she laughed. Jeremy and Crystal laughed, too.
“What about you?” Jeremy asked Noah. “Any resolutions?”
He wanted to do his best to repair his relationship with Rebecca. He’d tried to reach out to her after Christmas, but she didn’t seem to want to talk about it. Or maybe he was projecting—he didn’t want to talk about it either. He had to try harder. But that all felt too personal. “Getting back to the gym sounds good to me too.”
“Can’t argue with the classics,” Jeremy agreed. He launched into his own diet and fitness plans for the new year.
As they chatted, a group formed on the baseball field. Eight people in makeshift padded costumes carried out shields and swords wrapped in foam. A ninth hurried to catch up with them.
Oscar rejoined them, setting Ruby down by her dad. “Check it out,” Oscar said, delighted. “LARPers!”
“What’s a LARPer?” Crystal asked.
“Live action role players. Steph did it for a while. Looks fun as hell.”
“As heck,” Noah corrected. Oscar rolled his eyes.
The players formed lines and began. It looked more like a practice than an actual game, although Noah wouldn’t know one way or the other. He’d never had an interest in fantasy the way Oscar did. Even if he had, he would never have had the chance to explore it. His parents drilled into his head the evils of Dungeons & Dragons. It was Satanic. Nearly everything not associated with the Witnesses was Satanic.
Ruby picked up a stick and challenged her dad, who accepted. The twins grabbed sticks too and waved them around. Bette squealed and clapped her hands with delight. They were all having a good time.
After about ten minutes, two men appeared on the edge of the field. They looked like they were getting a head start on New Year’s Eve partying, swaying as they held bottles covered in paper bags. They weaved their way closer.
“Faggots!” one of them yelled. The other one laughed, as if it were the funniest joke he’d ever heard.
Noah tensed, grabbing Bette’s bag, ready to get her out of there if the men got any closer. Then he realized they weren’t yelling at him and Oscar. They were yelling at the players.
“Bunch of losers!” the man shouted. Some of the players stopped and looked over at them. Others ignored him, but the mood had changed. Nobody seemed to be having fun.
Noah hunched his shoulders. Hopefully they would get bored and leave.
He glanced over at Oscar, whose jaw was set. He handed Bette to Crystal. “Hold my baby.”
Noah’s heart raced. He didn’t plan to confront them, did he? “Oscar, don’t—”
But Oscar wasn’t listening. Noah broke out into a cold sweat as Oscar marched acr
oss the field. What should he do? Chase after him? Call the police? What if they attacked him? What if one of them had a gun? Noah’s stomach turned somersaults. He fumbled with his phone, trying and failing to type his PIN.
“Hey!” Oscar bellowed, waving his arms. The two men started and turned in Oscar’s direction. “Watch your fucking mouth. There are kids here!”
Neither of them responded right away. They were clearly not expecting a confrontation. “What did you say?” the loud one said at last.
“You heard me. Everyone was having a good time till you showed up.” He made a shooing motion. “Go away.”
Noah got his phone open at last, but it slipped from his sweaty hand. It was too late. They’d attack at any moment—
Except they didn’t. They shuffled their feet. The loud one mumbled something, but Noah couldn’t hear what he said.
Oscar laughed. “I’d like to see you try. Go on, get out of here.”
And they did. Noah couldn’t believe it. They shuffled off, giving Oscar dirty looks, but their shoulders were hunched. They almost looked ashamed.
Oscar waved to the players, who waved back, grinning. They resumed their game as Oscar returned to the picnic. “Much better.”
Ruby looked up at him. “You said the eff word.”
Oscar shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I did. I hate bullies.”
“Me too!” Ruby said.
“Me three,” Crystal said, handing Bette back to Oscar. “Good job, Uncle Oscar.”
Oscar grinned. “Thanks.”
The others went back to their lunch as if nothing had happened, but Noah’s heart kept thumping, his stomach still churning. Oscar touched his shoulder. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Everything okay?”
“You could have been hurt,” Noah said, hating how his voice quivered.
Oscar scoffed. “What were they going to do? Hit me? That’d make a nice lawsuit. We could get a head start on Bette’s college fund.” He held Bette up and made faces at her. “What do you say, baby? You want to go to Harvard?”
Bette squealed and smacked him in the face.
Noah clenched his fists. “I’m serious. What if they’d had a gun?”