Sincerely, Emma

I bought him some movie tickets to a movie he’d been dying to go see for a while, and it was just our luck that it’s first day was Christmas, so he’d get the tickets in the morning and get to go see his movie that night, or that weekend if he preferred. Then I broke down and bought a Wii for both of us and hoped fervently that he didn’t get the same idea. I could have told him, but I didn’t really want to ruin the surprise for him.

Christmas grew closer, and about a week early, I went out and bought a card to send home. I also bought another card for Ian to send to his family. I knew he’d regret it if he didn’t, so I took away that future possibility by buying two cards at once.

I was off work that day, so after I wrapped the presents and slid them under the tree we’d put up and decorated a week before, I sat down at the table and started to write in my card. I was doing this when Ian walked in and asked, “Whatcha got there?”

“A Christmas card for the ‘rents,” I said, listening as he let out a barely audible, “Oh.”

I pushed the bag by me toward him.

“Merry Christmas early,” I rolled my eyes. “Sit your bum down and do the same.”

“Do the same as what, exactly?” he asked curiously, picking the paper sack up and pulling out the card. “Oh.”

“You’re welcome,” I said, glancing up and watching covertly as a small grin spread across his lips. I looked down when it seemed as though he was going to look up, and continued writing.

“You don’t miss a thing, to you?” he asked with a chuckle, pulling out a chair and sitting down, while also taking a red ink pen from the new package on the table and setting it to the card. “Thank you, Emma.”

“No problem,” I replied, blowing on the green ink on my own card to let it dry. It read;

I hope everything is going well at home! We’re doing fine and getting along just as well. I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss you guys, but I hope that you understand and I promise that we’ll come home, at least for a brief visit or something, before next Christmas. Or at least I will, even if Ian won’t.

Wishing you the best this Christmas,

Emma.

After re-reading the brief message I’d written beneath the “Deck the Halls this Christmas Season” that was printed inside the card, I stood up to start supper, and asked, “What do you want to eat?”

“Food,” he said, and I rolled my eyes.

“Dear Captain Obvious, thank you. Sincerely, Lieutenant Sarcasm,” I drawled in an obviously sarcastic tone of voice. “I’m just going to fix some Mac and Cheese, then.”

“That’s fine,” he agreed, kind of distractedly, as he scrawled some things onto the card before him. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth slightly with the force of his concentration, and I turned around to stop looking and also so I wouldn’t giggle at him. I set to work making the quick meal, and I heard the chair Ian sat in creak as he sighed and leaned back. He let out a satisfied, “Done!” and I smiled to myself. Sometimes, he was too cute for his own good. It was making me like him a little more each day.

“So is the food,” I said a moment later, taking out two bowls and a ladle. Ian got up and got out a spoon for himself and a fork for me and came over to get his own bowl. I warned, “Be careful, it’s warm,” to a snort from him. He rolled his eyes at me and I laughed.

“Lemme read what you put,” he said shortly after we began eating, and I passed him the card. I took his as I did so with a grin and he shrugged good naturedly.

His card went like so;

Hey Dad, it’s me. Duh.

I know you’re probably worried, even though you never acted like you gave a rip what I did as long as I didn’t make you feel bad, and I’m sorry for that. Me and Emma are doing fine though, and I hope you are too. Have a good Christmas for me, okay?

Your son,

Ian.

“Yours sounds a lot better than mine,” Ian said as he looked at it. I glanced up from his and shook my head.

“No. We just have different ways of saying how we feel. I guess…is that the right way to put it?”

“I guess,” he shrugged, then grinned. “Hope you don’t mind if I give my regards to your parents, too,” he said as he picked up his red pen. I sighed, and let a grin of my own cross my lips.

“I’ll write something for your dad too, then,” I retorted, picking up the green pen I’d set aside once I’d finished with the card for my parents. He chuckled and replied with, “Okay” but said nothing otherwise, focusing on writing.

Onto the end of his card, I added;

And best wishes from me, as well! Have a good Christmas, Mr. Owens!

Sincerely,

Emma.

“Here,” I passed his back to him and continued to eat for about a minute, part of which he contemplated what he’d written on my card before passing it back and taking his to look at it, chewing thoughtfully on his most recent bite of macaroni.

His words to my parents read;

Hey, Mr. and Mrs. E, it’s Ian!

I wanted to say Merry Christmas and also I wanted to let you know that I’ll take good care of Emma. We’ll visit soon, like she said. I promise!

Merry Christmas and a very happy new year!

Ian.

His was scrawled above the cheesy little message printed in the card, since I took up most of the space beneath it, and I kind of laughed at the red and green theme. It was Christmastime, after all, but it was still funny how we just happened to pick the opposing colors for the cards to our respective parents.

“They’ll probably like that,” I said, chuckling a little. “Why is it, though, that my card has so much more written?!”

“Because you’re sentimentally long-winded when you write things like that, and I had a promise to make to your parents,” he shrugged. I grinned and shook my head.

“Whatever you say,” I replied, turning back to my food.

“That’s right,” he said, in a falsely superior tone, but his façade was broken when he let a laugh come out.