“
Not gonna argue with that,
”
he says, smoothing down my hair. I wipe the lipstick off his mouth and he takes my hand as he opens the door. The apartment is small and crammed with furniture that seems to be too big for the space. A four-foot Christmas tree sits in the corner of the living room, adorned with lights and a few ornaments. Five wrapped presents sit beneath it. I think back to my house, where the upstairs living room is rearranged to accommodate the large fir tree that my dad and Uncle Steven had brought home. There are so many gifts underneath it that they spread out, six feet in all directions. Granted, my family is huge, but still. Their decorations just seem so sparse.
“
Livvy, welcome,
”
Jon
’
s mother, Margie, says happily. She
’
s wearing a dark green dress and has long black hair and a lot of makeup on. Jon
’
s brothers, Max and Will, flank her sides, both dressed in khakis, button down shirts and sweater vests.
“
We
’
re so happy to have you here.
”
“
Thank you for inviting me,
”
I say, nervous, clutching my oversized leather bag which just seems ostentatious and showy right now. I wouldn
’
t have chosen this one if I hadn
’
t brought gifts with me.
“
I
’
m so excited to finally meet you. Jon has said so much about you.
”
“
Likewise,
”
I say with a smile.
“
Well, come on in, honey, we won
’
t bite.
”
I realize I
’
d stopped walking once the door closed behind me.
“
Make yourself at home. Jon, maybe you could put her bag in your room.
”
“
That seems like a bad idea,
”
he retorts, looking at his brothers.
“
It
’
s fine,
”
I tell him.
“
Just let me get these out.
”
“
Jon, Max and Will are staying over at the Munoz
’
s tonight. They
’
ll be heading down there after dinner.
”
“
Why?
”
Jon asks. I look up briefly after finding the four ornaments I
’
d made as presents.
“
Candy needs someone to take her shift this evening. I kind of owe her because she covered for me when Max was sick last week. I wasn
’
t sure what your plans were, so I made other arrangements for the boys.
”
“
Wait, you
’
re going to the bar tonight?
”
“
Yes, but we
’
re all going to be here for dinner, Jonny. We wouldn
’
t miss this for anything.
”
Jon and I look at one another curiously.
“
Great. Okay,
”
he says to his mother. I force a smile, feeling very apprehensive about what lies ahead this evening. If I have a midnight curfew, Jon and I will probably have about four hours alone in his apartment. My stomach feels as if it
’
s in knots as I struggle to decide if this is a good idea or a bad one. I
’
ll wait to talk to Jon until after his family is gone.
His mother is nice, but very talkative, and most of the questions she asks me are related to my mom and dad and have very little to do with me. I don
’
t mind, though. My parents are interesting people who manage to lead a fairly private life, so it
’
s quite often that my friends
’
mothers and fathers ask me about mine.
“
Max,
”
Jon says to his youngest brother.
“
Livvy has a little brother that
’
s your age. He plays t-ball, just like you.
”
“
I bet he has a new mitt,
”
Max says.
“
Does he?
”
“
I don
’
t know,
”
I tell him.
“
It
’
s probably a year old or so.
”
“
Max has been using my hand-me-down from when I was little. Will used it until he got his new one. I
’
ve considered it a family heirloom, but Max says it hurts his hand,
”
Jon says.
“
It
’
s broken in quite nicely.
”
“
It
’
s coming apart,
”
Max argues.
“
Well, it
’
s a good thing you asked Santa for one.
”
“
Will says there is no Santa,
”
Max says. Jon and his mother both put down their forks, glaring at Will.
“
That
’
s just because Will knows he
’
s on Santa
’
s naughty list, Max, and won
’
t be getting anything this year.
”
Jon says it so seriously, and I can tell he
’
s angry with his thirteen-year-old brother.
“
Hey!
”
Will argues.
“
What
’
d I do?
”
“
Santa
’
s not real?
”
I ask.
“
What do you mean?
”
Jon looks at me and smiles.
“
I don
’
t know. Will seems to think that there
’
s no way Santa could deliver presents to everyone in the world in one night.
”
“
Well, he doesn
’
t have to,
”
I explain.
“
He skips the naughty kids, right?
”
“
And the ones that don
’
t believe in him.
”
Jon
’
s mother smiles at our banter.
“
It
’
s humanly impossible for Santa to do that,
”
Will says.
“
Well, maybe Santa
’
s not exactly Human,
”
I suggest.
“
What, he
’
s like Superman or something?
”
“
Something like that, yeah. I don
’
t question it, though,
”
I tell him before taking a bite of our dinner.
“
I don
’
t want him skipping my house. I have a lot of things on my list that I want.
”
“
Mom says you have so much money, you could buy anything you want,
”
Max says.
“
Why do you need Santa Claus?
”
Margie puts her head in her hands. I
’
m not sure how to answer.
“
Livvy
’
s a kid, just like us,
”
Jon says.
“
It
’
s not like she has a job, and makes money like Mom does.
”
“
But she
’
s a rich kid,
”
Max continues.
“
I am so embarrassed,
”
Jon
’
s mother says.
“
I don
’
t know where he
’
s getting that.
”
“
It
’
s okay,
”
I say with a smile, but I feel a little weird.
“
My parents are the rich ones, Max. And they don
’
t give me everything I want. That
’
s why I rely on Santa Claus to help out.
”
“
I hope he
’
s not sick again this year, though,
”
Max says.
“
We put out cookies and everything last year, and then he didn
’
t come.
”
I look around at Margie and Jon, waiting for one of them to explain this. I can
’
t imagine what Trey would do if Santa just didn
’
t come. I feel sad for Max.
“
I have it on good authority, Max,
”
Jon begins,
“
that Santa is feeling great and will be here this year.
”
He meets his mother
’
s eyes, and she nods minutely.
“
Well, I think I
’
ve had enough to eat,
”
Margie says suddenly, standing from the table and picking up her plate, taking it to the sink.
“
Boys, are you ready to go downstairs?
”
“
Yeah!
”
they exclaim.
“
Wait,
”
I say softly.
“
I wanted to give you each a little gift.
”
“
Oh, Livvy, you didn
’
t need to get us anything.
”
“
It
’
s really nothing,
”
I tell Jon
’
s mother, handing Max, Will and then Margie a small box. The boys tear into theirs, and Margie opens hers slowly. They remove the tissue paper to see the ornaments.
“
I paint these every year for everyone in my family. It
’
s kind of a tradition.
”
Painted on each is a different winter landscape, their name, and the year. It
’
s by chance only that Max
’
s ornament
has
a picture of Santa and Rudolph in the snow.
“
They
’
re so intricate,
”
Jon says.
“
And so pretty.
”
“
It
’
s adorable,
”
Margie says as she holds hers up.
“
Boys, let
’
s get these on the tree!
”
All three of them hang their gifts from otherwise bare limbs.
“
Thank you, Livvy,
”
Jon
’
s mom says as she gives me a hug.
“
Thank you for dinner. It was wonderful.
”
“
I
’
ll get the dishes, Mom,
”
Jon says.
Margie helps the younger sons with their duffel bags and pillows, and they all tell us good night.
“
If we don
’
t see you before the holiday, Livvy, have a merry Christmas.
”
“
Thank you. You, as well.
”
Before she shuts the door, she turns out the lights in the living room.
“
Is that for ambiance or conservation?
”
I ask Jon.
He laughs as he gets up to turn the lights back on.
“
Just force of habit, I
’
m sure.
”
“
Right,
”
I say softly as I stand up and start to clear the table.
“
Whoa, Liv. What are you doing?
”