The Only Thing On My Wishlist

It was hard to miss, and believe me, I tried to miss it, but I got cursed with the one cabby in England that actually wanted to know about my holiday plans and I may have let it slip that my mother was sort of a Christmas fiend, so of course he realized very quickly which house was ours. I couldn’t even try to deny it because every other house seemed dim compared to ours. Sure, they had lights and wreathes, and there may have been a mechanical reindeer thrown in for good measure, but our house took it to a whole new level of Christmas cheer.

Mechanical reindeer? We had five. Christmas wreathes? One on every visible window of the house. Blow-up snowman? We had blow-up snowmen. It looked as if an elf had thrown up candy canes and wrapping paper all over the front lawn. It was a spectacle and I’m sure a space station full of astronauts was looking down at us and laughing at our glowing ball of yuletide cheer.

When I got out of the cab, I could smell snow in the air and as if on cue, a chill shook through my body. I couldn’t pinpoint an exact moment when I decided to hate all things wet, white, and fluffy; I guess I’ve just always hated it and any other form of weather that required me to put excess layers on.

I was halfway up the walk when I felt my phone vibrating in my bag. “Hello?” I said after pulling it from my black hole of a purse.

“You were suppose to call when you got off the plane, Elliot. I’ve been sitting here worrying for an hour. Do you have any idea what sort of scenarios were running through my head?”

I sighed, my shoulders tensing as I tried to conjure up something to say, and let me tell you, it was hard when Frosty was staring you down.“Grant, it’s not a big deal—”

“It is a big deal, Elliot. You said you would call when your flight landed. I checked online and it said you landed an hour ago.”

“Look, I’m sorry—”

“You’re always sorry, Ellie. When are you going to grow up and get your act together? I mean, have you even thought about next semester? I thought you were coming to Duke?”

I bit back the urge to sigh again because I knew it would just aggravate him. So I took a deep breath, tearing my eyes from the row of electrical deer galloping in place on the lawn. “I told you. I haven’t heard back yet.”

“Have you even checked your application status online? Y’know, to make sure they got it?”

“I kind of just want to focus on the holidays right now, Grant—”

“The holidays aren’t going anywhere, Ellie. Christmas is going to be here next year. Your future career, however, is fading faster and faster.”

“I—I have to go, Grant. I’ll call you tomorrow.” I stuttered, pulling the phone from my ear.

“Don’t hang up, Elliot. This conversation—”

I shoved the phone back in my bag, gaining what little composure I had before continuing up the steps. I went to open the door, but then I stopped. What exactly was the protocol on entering the house your mother shares with her new family? Henry lived there with his daughter before mom moved in, so technically it was his house. Should I knock? Or maybe even ring the bell? But before I could think of any other ways to signal my arrival, the door swung open, and I nearly feel down the stairs.

Henry was my mother’s soul mate. I know I should be holding onto that hope that my parents would get back together, but I wasn’t a little girl anymore and I was old enough to realize that they weren’t meant to be. Henry, however, Henry was the perfect fit for my mother. To be honest, I couldn’t even believe that someone created two people so much alike that it was scary. And I knew that they enjoyed the same things, like tending to the garden, country music, and Jeopardy, I just hadn’t realized he shared my mother’s passion for all things Christmas. I know this should have been obvious by Santa’s make-shift workshop currently residing on the lawn, but the fact that he was wearing antlers kind of sealed the deal.

“Elliot, dear!” Henry extended his arm, wrapping it around my shoulders as he pulled me into the house.

I stumbled over the threshold, my eyes growing wide when I realized the living room was overrun with people. I glanced up at Henry, hoping for an explanation, but my mother’s voice cut my thoughts.

“Baby!” She shrieked, flinging herself at me.

“Hey, Mom.” I smiled as she continued to squeeze the life out of me.

“How was your flight?” She asked quickly, pulling away from me as she gave me a once over with her eyes. I almost forgot she asked me a question. My head was wrapped around the fact that she was wearing antlers that matched Henry’s. “No one tried to talk to you, right? And you got here okay? I told you I would have picked you up. You didn’t have to take a cab.”

I took a step back, smiling at her as I tried to breathe. “My flight was fine, Mom.” I couldn’t stop my eyes from glancing around. I mean, there were a lot of people here and I wasn’t sure why. “Um—What—What’s going on here, Mom?”

She just laughed, her face lighting up as she smiled. “We’re starting the Christmas season off on the right foot, Ellie.”

Of course we were.

“Why don’t you go put your bags up in your room, freshen up a bit, and then you can enjoy the festivities.”

I really didn’t have a choice. Even if I went upstairs and accidently fell asleep, mom would have one of her little helpers wake me up before my head hit the pillow. So instead of fighting her, claiming that I was fine to enjoy the festivities right now, I trudged myself up the stairs.

I’d been here before. Mom had been dating Henry from the second she stepped off that plane three years ago. I was a little skeptical at first. I mean, she uprooted her entire life for a guy she met on a dating website, so it took me awhile to warm up to him. Last February, right after they got engaged, mom flew me out to go on holiday with Henry and his daughter as sort of an ice breaker, even though we’d already met on a few occasions. It wasn’t completely horrible and I got along with Henry’s daughter Lucy just fine. I just still couldn’t wrap my head around my mom being engaged to a man a computer matched her up with. Granted, they were perfect for each other, but still.

The last time I was here was for the wedding, which was last July, so I could still find my way around the upstairs. Lucy and I shared the attic. It had two rooms, a small bathroom being the middle ground. I actually liked it more than my room back home, mostly because the walls were painted a burnt orange and there was a wraparound window seat that overlooked a park.

I flicked the light switch on as I crossed into the room, dust particles swimming in the air as I crinkled my nose after taking a deep breath of stagnant air. Mom had the memory of an elephant, but she somehow forgot to crack a window before I came. It wasn’t like I could open it now, not unless I wanted to wake up without feeling in my toes.

As inviting as my bed look, fluffy pillows and a down blanket, I resisted climbing under the covers. Instead, I pulled open the bathroom door, praying that my toothbrush was in there before brushing away the taste of the coffee I drank five hours ago. I set the brush back in the holder before wiping the leftover foam from my face. I folded the towel back on the rack and before I could turn to go back downstairs, I heard a hushed giggle sing through the wall. I quirked my eyebrows before pushing Lucy’s door open. “Lucy, why are you—OH!”

I felt my face blush as I watched Lucy jump off of her bed, leaving the boy she was on top of staring at the ceiling. She quickly pulled down her shirt that had rode up past her ribcage, no doubt from the boy’s wandering hands, and then she tried to fix the mop of brown hair that seemed to have fallen from its clip, again, probably from the boy’s wandering hands.

“Elliot!” She squealed, her hands clapping together as her face paled down. “Ohmygod. Hi. Hi. Hey.” She stammered out, fidgeting as she glanced over at the boy who hadn’t even flinched. I’m sure he hated me and I made a mental note to apologize for interrupting whatever he was doing with my stepsister. “You—Um—You remember my boyfriend, Max, right?”

I nodded. “Not quite in that position, but yes.”

“We were—We were just going downstairs, weren’t we, Max?”

“Well,” he sighed, sitting up. “If we’re going to be completely honest, we weren’t—”

“Go downstairs, hun. We’ll be right there.”

I saw him roll his eyes as he pushed himself off of the bed. He walked toward me, smiling lightly before he mumbled, “she’s lucky I love her.”

“If anyone’s lucky, it’s you, babe.” Lucy called after him.

I smiled as Max disappeared downstairs. It took Lucy no time to start firing off questions. “So, you broke up with Grant, right?”

“Uh—”

“Because I saw that you aren’t listed in a relationship on Facebook, so I’m assuming you dumped the twit’s arse.”

“I don’t think—”

“And he hasn’t written on your wall in awhile.”

I swallowed hard. I always hated talking about Grant because people always seemed to misunderstand him. He was passionate and goal-driven, and people often mistook that as him being manipulative and snide. He wanted the best for himself, and for me, and that’s why I loved him. That’s why I’m still with him. “We’re—Uh—We’re still together.”

“Oh,” she frowned.

“He’s a good guy, Luce.”

And she just nodded, her smile tight as she nudged her head toward the door. “We should go downstairs.”

***

Mom was talking to Max when Lucy and I walked into the living room. She had him cornered by the eggnog and he looked like he wanted to jump out of the window. Mom had a habit of talking your ear off. Most of the time it wasn’t even relevant to anything going on. It was about how a gofer got to her petunias last summer, or the shoes she got on sale at the mall. I loved her to death, but there was a serious chemical imbalance going on in her head.

Lucy was quick to rescue Max, whisking him over to the couch to take pictures. Unfortunately, Mom held me captive in his place. I couldn’t really complain. I hadn’t seen her since the wedding. It wasn’t like she was living in Savannah anymore. I couldn’t just jump on I-16 and visit her. I missed her and maybe I even missed her constant jibber-jabber.

“How’s your father, Ellie?” She asked as she passed me a glass of eggnog.

I guess I’ve always admired my parents for maintaining a good relationship despite the divorce. I watched my friends’ parents’ split and it was always messy legal battles and fighting over holidays. With us we just always did them together. Dad would come over Christmas morning and we’d always have Easter dinner together. It was as if they were still married, only they were happier.

“He’s good.” I smiled, ignoring the milky substance in my cup. Even though I could smell the rum, I couldn’t bring myself to drink it. “He’s—Uh—He’s on a cruise with—Uh— Javier.”

“Is he happy?”

I nodded, drumming my fingers over the crystal. “I’d like to think so.”

“Good. I’m glad.” She ended with a smile as I felt a tug at my arm. I tore my eyes from my mom only for them to land on Lucy.

“Can I steal Ellie, Trish?”

Mom nodded and Lucy dragged me over to the couch.

She practically pushed me into the loveseat, nearly sending my lanky body onto the lap of a boy in a festive sweater. He merely smiled as I awkwardly gawked down at him

“Elliot, this is Josh. Please excuse his unfortunate sweater—”

“My gran knitted me this sweater.” Josh shot back defensively. “You’re just jealous.”

“—I think you met him at the wedding.”

I smiled. I’d been introduced to him briefly, but then a flock of Henry’s family attacked and he was lost in the crowd. “Yeah, you were singing, right?”

Josh nodded.

“I’d love to introduce you to Josh’s darling girlfriend,” Lucy said in a monotone. “But she seems to be running late, isn’t that so, Josh?”

He just glared, as if his girlfriend was some sort of sore subject.

“The feministic tit isn’t good enough for my Joshy.”

“Please don’t ever call me Joshy again.”

Lucy rolled her eyes before introducing me to the rest of Max’s band. When the role call was finally done, Henry stepped in front of the fireplace, beaming a white smile before announcing whatever it was that needed announcing. “Lucy came up with a wonderful twist on our annual Secret Santa.”

A Secret Santa. How wonderful.

“Last year was just so boring. I figured we can make it more interesting, more secretive.” Lucy slinked over next to her father, the fire glowing behind her as she continued on. “So, including tonight there will be three parties. Tonight you’ll get your first clue. You’ll get your next clue on the eleventh and the last one on the eighteenth. That will give you a week to find the perfect gift for your Secret Santa—”

“You’ve really got too much time on your hands, Luce.”

I glanced down at Josh, his leg was crossed over his knee as his foot violently shook. He was resting his arm on the back of the couch. I wasn’t sure if the expression on his face was due to lack of interest, or if it was because his feministic tit of a girlfriend never showed.

“Well, Joshua, don’t take my boyfriend on tour for nine months out of the year and I wouldn’t have time to think up these wild ideas.”

I’m sure she’d still find a way to conjure things like this up.

“Anyway, jumping right into it, you’ll see pads of paper and pens on various tables, please pick one up and listen for instructions.”

Most people took to the command, reaching over and grabbing Christmas-colored chunks of paper, eagerly waiting the next instruction.

“Okay, in about one sentence, please write your feelings about Christmas at this very moment.”

I watched as everyone jumped into it, even Mr. Grinch aka Josh seemed into the idea. I just stood there, though, nervously biting my bottom lip, praying Lucy didn’t notice.

“Go on, Ellie.”

I scowled. “Oh, I’m alright.” I sighed. “I don’t really know anyone that well—”

“This is how you get to know other people, silly.” She laughed. “Grab some paper and hope to.”

“I’m really—”

“Write down your feelings about Christmas, Elliot.”

I jumped slightly at her tone, my eyes growing wide as I grabbed the spare piece of paper next to Josh, quickly writing down the first thing that popped into my head before folding the paper in half.

“When you're finished, fold the paper in half and hold onto it. I'm sending a hat around the room. Inside are a bunch of numbers. I have a sheet with all the numbers on it, and the names each number coincides with. That way, no one knows who their Santa is, or who they're the Santa of—except for me.”

“You’ve got some kind of god complex, Luce,” Josh said from beside me.

“Yeah, right?” someone else agreed. “Didn’t they invent The Sims for this kind of thing? We aren’t your playthings, Lucy.”

“Not all of you,” she replied easily, shooting Max a wink.

He blushed as Henry laid a heavy gaze on him. “She’s kidding,” he mumbled, sinking lower in his seat.

“Anyway,” Lucy said loudly, glaring at us, “you’re going to play and you’re going to like it.”

“Not likely,” came another voice from across the room.

“Shut it,” she snapped. “Anyway, after you get your number, you’re going to come into the kitchen one by one and tell me what number you got, and once you tell me, I’ll mark it on the master list I’ve got. Then you’ll give me your clue, and instead of getting a clue as to who your Santa is, you’re going to get a clue as to who you’re getting your gift for.”

The room was silent, everyone—including Henry and Mom—staring at Lucy with identical confused looks.

“Like I said, too much time on her hands,” Josh announced, breaking the silence.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up. It’s not hard. Take a number, and start coming to the kitchen one by one.”

I watched as people filed into the kitchen, my eyebrows raised when they walked back into the living room with dumbfounded expressions. I figured I should just get it over with, making my way into Lucy’s office as Max walked out.

“Seven? How lucky,” Lucy said, giving me a wink as she looked at the piece of paper I handed to her. “Your gift-receiver—”

“Gift-receiver?” I snorted. “Clever.”

She rolled her eyes. “Quit being such a Scrooge, Ellie.” She marked something down on the clipboard—yes, clipboard—she was holding and waved me out of the kitchen.

“Your gift-receiver hasn’t been in yet, so I don’t have your clue. I’ll bring it to you before bed.”

***

Once the party was over, I crawled into my bed. I pulled the covers over my body and sighed heavily as the piece of paper Lucy left on my nightstand stared at me. I groaned in frustration before I pealed back the green folds, my eyes running over the messy writing.

Sometimes I feel like I've measured my whole life in two seasons—Christmas season, and waiting for Christmas season.

I blinked a few times before rolling my eyes. I crumpled the paper in my fist, eyeing the waste basket in the corner before flicking my wrist. I missed because I obviously wasn’t a basketball player, but I vowed not to lose sleep over it. Instead, I just twisted the knob of the light on my bedside table, the room falling dark as I cocooned myself in my blankets, falling asleep to the sound of Lucy on the phone with Max.