CH 19

 I wish I could say that after our conversation things got better, but they didn't. It was like a one off, like a glimpse that Ian, my best friend Ian, still exists, but then he's gone again. The next day at the bus stop I tried smiling at him, but his scowl was firmly back in place. He is just so angry all the time, except that by lunch his tongue is down someone else's throat. It's like he wants everyone to know he isn't the gay brother, so he is leaning over Jillian who is against her locker in the hallway right outside of the cafeteria, only six lockers down from mine. His one arm is against the locker, almost trapping Jillian in place and his other is around the back of her neck, firmly keeping their lips together.

"Reed, Jansen, office now. You know we have a zero tolerance suck face policy," one of the teachers walking by reprimands them. They pull apart, not embarrassed at all, following the teacher. Ian's look of triumph falters slightly when he sees me watching, but quickly turns back into his everyday sneer.

"Jealous much?" Jillian Jansen snarks at me as they walk by, being lead to the office. I turn away from the spectacle, disgusted, get my lunch from my locker and go to meet Chris in the cafeteria.

"Are you coming for Christmas?" Chris asks me a few days before. We are at the tiny collection of stores that counts as a mall in our town. It's pretty busy, but since classes at my Dad's school are out for the term, most of the university students have gone home, so the mall is less busy than it was a few weeks earlier. Now it's just the locals who shop.

"I don't know, I don't want to intrude..." I would love to go to their place. I know my parents aren't planning anything. Since we got back, similar patterns have re-emerged. Daddy's at school all the time, and Mommy barely makes it out of bed for her twice weekly shifts at the library. Daddy's actually set up a sofa bed in his office so that he doesn't 'disrupt' my mom's sleep.

"Oh for heaven's sake, of course you're coming, it's a tradition. My mom asked me to tell you to be there by one."

"I really don't want to make anyone uncomfortable."

"The only reason why anyone would be uncomfortable is if they eat too much. Give me a break. Besides, Maggie's bringing Marc, they're engaged now and you haven't seen her since before you went away."

"Oh, I'd better get him something, too! What's he like?"

"Hmm, he's tall and kind of goofy looking, but really kind and friendly. Maggie totally loves him."

"He's a chemical engineer, right?"

"Yep. Maggie says she's lucky because she can work anywhere he needs to go for his job." Maggie finished with her history teaching credentials, but so far she's just doing the odd day of substitute teaching, which is apparently really good for her first year.

"Yeah, I suppose. But I wish they lived closer." I lament.

"Now you sound like Mom."

"Well, I'm getting him socks. It wouldn't be Christmas without socks."

"You're getting everyone socks." Chris states flatly.

"Of course I am." I grin.

I did get everyone socks. It's not like I can buy much with no budget; I only had about eighty dollars, and most of that was scrounged from pockets from doing the laundry. I do my parents as well as my own, and sometimes I am rewarded with cash. I really need to get a job, but in a university town, where there's always someone older and more qualified applying for every part-time position, it's not an easy task.

For my parents I think I was pretty thoughtful. I got my mom some nice soft chenille socks that are meant to promote serenity—if they work it would be a miracle, but you can't blame me for trying. My dad is getting some dress socks to go with his loafers that he always wears for work. Since being in Europe, he's really embraced the professor look. It's kind of embarrassing, but he does look nice; loafers, casual but nice pants, a loosely buttoned dress shirt and some sort of jacket, usually a corduroy one with leather patches at the arms. I don't know where he gets his clothes, maybe online, but he always looks like an intellectual and the look works for him.

It was harder to decide what to get for next door. Chris was easy, he likes to go for walks and wears his hiking boots everywhere, so I got him a nice thick pair of insulated walking socks from the outdoors store. They were more expensive than everyone else's socks, but I know he'll love them. I got Maggie some socks with little books and pencils on the ankle because she's a history teacher. For Steve, since he's in construction, I got heavy duty work socks, and Andrea is getting the same kind of socks as my mom—she deserves some serenity, too. Apparently she was appalled at Ian's latest trouble with Jillian in the hall. He got a day suspension and she had to go pick him up. For Ian, I had a much harder time. I wanted to get him something that had meaning, but not too much if that makes any sense. In the end, I find a pair of socks that are black with the jolly roger on the side, like a pirate flag. He can wear them now, in fitting with his image, but they remind me of when we were little.

The night before Christmas I wrap everything in the living room, sitting on the floor by the coffee table. My mom is in bed, as usual, and my dad is working on his book, typing, in the dining room. I can hear him in hushed tones talking on his phone, "I know, I know. I'll get away when I can. You know how it is around here." I'd love to know how he thinks it is around here, he's never here to know what it's like. When I finish wrapping, I make a point of making a bit of noise when I get up, so that he knows I'm within hearing distance. "Yep, me too," he finishes quickly getting off his phone when I walk through the room to put the wrapping paper away.

"Who was that?" I ask.

"Oh, just a grad student having some research issues, you know how they are," Daddy's smile is the same one he uses whenever he needs something, kind of rakish and flirty, but difficult for anyone to resist.

"Yep, always needy," that's what he always says, that they couldn't write their way out of a paper bag without him standing over them.

"Exactly. Are you doing anything for Christmas, Sweetpea?" Here comes the request. I know him so well.

"You mean aside from going next door for a bit?"

"Yeah."

"Not really, why?" What, did he expect I was jetting off to a chalet somewhere?

"No reason, just I have a conference in a few days. I'll be away until just after New Years."

"Oh." I try to keep a brave face. I hate it when he goes away. Whatever life is in this house, in my mother, seems to drain away in his absence.

"So I'd really like it if you could keep an eye on your mom, you know how she gets over the holidays."

"Sure thing, Daddy."

"I knew I could count on you, Cupcake." He pats me on the head and retreats to where ever, unconcerned about everything now that his needs are fulfilled.

Christmas morning is bright and crisp, tendrils of frost making intricate patterns on my window, the barren tree just outside occasionally tapping against the side of the house. I lay in bed for a while, relishing the contrast between the cool air of my draughty room compared to the cozy warmth of my bed. There isn't any rush to get up anyway, I know there's nothing under the tree.

Ever since the Christmas where Santa "mailed" my present, I've known my parents are full of it. Andrea bought me that lego set because she knew my mom was in no state to shop and that my dad was too selfish to think of it. The truth hurts, but I know my parents aren't great. Last year, we were in Salzburg, Austria (think Sound of Music—snow, mountains, amazing old buildings) for Christmas, and it was gorgeous there. We didn't have a tree, obviously because we were in a hotel, and I know that my dad ran into the hotel gift shop five minutes before, presenting me and my mom with the same snowflake necklaces. Matching, for his lovely ladies, is what he said, lazy for my self-centred dad, is what I thought, but my mom loved it. She still hungers for whatever attention he gives her, so I spent the afternoon in the lobby reading, while they had some 'alone time.' Hardly the best Christmas ever.

When I do finally get up, I throw on my bathrobe and head to the kitchen to make breakfast for me and my parents. I take a peek under the tree in the living room, and miracles of miracles, there is actually a present under the tree that I put up last week, Chris helping me carry it up from the basement. I do the usual, coffee, scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon, then make a plate up for my mom. She's in bed watching tv, and my dad is nowhere to be found.

I put her food on the night table, then give her the socks, wrapped with a red ribbon.

"Thanks, Grace. Your present is downstairs under the tree," she says with little inflection. I notice she is watching a church service somewhere, which is odd, because my family doesn't do religion, but I guess there isn't much on. "You can open it before you go next door if you want. Is Matt home?" Of course he's her main concern.

"I don't know. I haven't looked in his room yet," although I am pretty sure he's out.

"Oh," she turns back to the tv, and I am dismissed.

My present is a new macbook. My old laptop is one of my dad's old ones from work, so this is a huge step up. It's totally great, but I'd rather have something little and my parents with me, rather than something designed to buy me off. After setting it up for a bit, I have my shower, get dressed and head over next door. I'm wearing one of my least horrific plaid kilts and a shirt with a cardigan. I still look like a junior accountant, but it will have to do, most of the stuff that was Maggie's is in the laundry and getting threadbare, besides I'm not sure she knows Chris gave me her old stuff. On the way out I say goodbye to my mom and notice that she's at least put on a pair of the socks I got her. That's something, anyway.

Opening the door at the Reed's, the feeling in the house is a stark contrast to mine. It's noisy and warm, friendly and inviting.

"Gracie!" Maggie grabs me and sweeps me up in a giant hug. "Oh, Honey, you're beautiful! You've totally grown up! I've missed you so much. Marc, come meet my little sister!" I love her so much, I totally idolized her when I was younger and she's still completely wonderful.

Marc is far cuter that Chris described, although a little on the nerdy side. He is tall, Chris got that part correct, but I don't think he looks goofy at all. He's got light brown bed-head type hair that looks great tousled, green eyes and an infectious smile. "So this is the girl I've heard all about! It's so nice to finally meet you!" Marc gives me a hug too, and I instantly like him.

Maggie takes my bag of presents and adds them to the pile under the tree. "We haven't opened anything yet, we were waiting for you."

"You shouldn't have, really." It was nice of them, but I feel really awkward, too.

"Hi Gracie, can you go get the boys? It's time for presents." Andrea is wiping her hands on a dishcloth, standing in the kitchen doorway.

I run upstairs into Chris' room, but it's full of luggage, and I realize that he's back in his old room while Maggie's visiting, in with Ian. I can hear them arguing inside about something, so I knock loudly. Ian whips open the door, "What?" He's fresh out of the shower and only has a towel on. There are still drops of water clinging to him and I try not to look, my face going red immediately. "Well?" he demands, he looks me up and down and smirks at my clothes.

"I—I was supposed to tell you guys that it's time to open presents." I trip over my words a bit. Why does he make me feel so awkward?

"Fine, we'll be down in a minute." Ian turns and I catch a glimpse of his scars, red and puckered along his side from the dog bite. Then he slams the door and he and Chris continue to argue. I hope that they can at least put aside their differences, whatever they are, to make it a good day.

While we wait, I set the table in the dining room, Marc helping me put the leaf in the table. He and I make small talk and I can totally tell why Maggie loves him. The way he's interested and asks thoughtful questions makes me feel at ease. He also knows a fair deal about me, so I know Maggie did actually miss me, not that I doubted her, but it's always nice to hear it from someone else, too.

There is a frenzy of present opening for the next little while, and I am really happy that everyone seems to like their socks, Chris put his on right away. When Ian opened his, he actually laughed, which was pretty surprising. I'm glad he took them the right way.

Maggie hands me a heavy parcel from her and Marc, "I hear you have some hand me downs of mine."

I colour and say, "I hope you don't mind, I just didn't have any normal clothes so Chris gave them to me. I was sick of looking like a boarding school reject."

"Not at all Grace, I just couldn't believe you were big enough to fit them, you've gotten so mature looking." She gives me a big smile, "Chris gave me your sizes, I hope you're okay with some new stuff, too."

I rip off the paper and there are two pairs of jeans, a hoodie and two t-shirts. "It's too much, Maggie. You shouldn't have." I am so touched and thrilled at the idea of some more normal clothes.

"Grace, you need normal clothes. I mean you look really cute and all, but what you have on isn't really practical for everyday," Maggie tells me.

"This is amazing! Thank you!" I jump up and give them both hugs. "You have no idea how awesome this is!"

"Relax Grace, it's just jeans," Ian makes me feel foolish and my face falls.

"Ian..." Andrea gives him a look of warning.

"Sorry Grace." he begrudgingly says.

"See, just like a normal family," Maggie tells Marc, and they laugh.

In the end, I get some lavender bubble bath from Chris, some more clothes from Steve and Andrea, and Ian gives me a stain-glass sun catcher—its a bunch of glass pebbles in a mosaic pattern, and it's really beautiful.

"Thanks, I love it, Ian." My voice is warm and soft, and he looks momentarily stricken before his usual air of indifference returns to his face.

"I thought you'd like it," he shrugs, "no biggie." Then he proceeds to ignore me for the rest of the day.

After dinner, which we have in the mid-afternoon, we are all sitting around the table when Chris stands up, "Everyone, I have something I need to say."

Ian groans, and I give him a dirty look, then smile encouragingly back at Chris. "I'm not sure how many of you know, but Grace seemed to know before I told her, so umm, anyway, I'm gay."

"Is that all, Chris? You had me worried for a second," Steve jokes, breaking the ice, then comes around the table and gives Chris a big hug. Andrea could not have married a better man. Everyone is really supportive and I think it's probably the best way this could have gone. I'm so happy for Chris that he has such a great family and I'm so glad they consider me one of their own.

"Not trying to steal your thunder, but if this is the time for announcements, then I guess it's our turn," Maggie starts. Andrea gets a crazy-excited look on her face, which Maggie quickly quashes, "No Mom, we aren't pregnant. We just think we have a date for the wedding, if it's okay with you Grace."

"Me? What would I have to do with it?"

"The only date available for this year is on your birthday, and we really want to get married sooner rather than later," she explains. "Oh, and I also want you to be a bridesmaid," she adds.

"Oh Maggie, Marc, I could never stand in the way of your wedding. Please get married whenever you want!"

"And about being in the wedding?"

"I'd love that, too."

"Oh, and you jackasses have to be groomsmen." She doesn't give them the option.