My dad has Thanksgiving off work for the first time in forever, so my parents go all out to celebrate the holiday. Instead of buying a pre-cooked turkey from the market like usual, Mom actually cooks one herself, making the stuffing from scratch and everything. I participate in the same way I do every year, by making the pies. One pumpkin, one apple and one chocolate. I don’t have a favorite—they are all equally delicious.
This is my second Thanksgiving as a couple with Park, but it’s the first one we’ve been able to spend together. Mom invited him over for dinner but Dad said he should come over early to watch football. My parents both really like Park, but that doesn’t stop my anxiety levels from going through the roof the moment he arrives.
I rush to the front door the second the doorbell rings. I’ve seen my boyfriend a million times but on this occasion, it feels like a first date all over again. My fingers fumble with opening the door, and when I do, I’m greeted first by a bouquet of flowers.
“Happy Thanksgiving, love.” Park leans in for a quick kiss on my cheek and I take the flowers he gives me.
“Thanksgiving isn’t a flower-giving occasion, you know,” I tease him as I let him into the foyer and close the door behind us.
“When you’re dating a cop’s daughter, every occasion is a flower-giving occasion.”
He takes off his suede jacket, revealing a black long-sleeved button up shirt that fits him as if it was tailored to his muscles. Instantly, I feel underdressed in my teal knee-length dress with a shimmery overlay of lace.
“Park is here!” I call out to my parents as we walk into the kitchen. Dad yells for Park to join him in the living room and Mom showers him with offers of food and drink. Okay, so maybe this day won’t be as awkward as I had imagined.
During dinner, Park acts like a total gentleman. It’s almost as if he’s an entirely different person from the laid back guy I know. He’s proper and polite and eats with a fork and a knife. I’m weirdly proud of him, of the guy I’ve brought home to meet my parents and how well put together he is.
I kind of want to shout, “See, Mom and Dad? Park quit his job and started a business and you love him! Why can’t you let me do the same thing?” But I don’t. I’m smarter than that.
Dad asks about Park’s house and how the renovations are going. They talk about flooring and air conditioning and Dad offers to help him with repairs. Everything is going really well, better than I could have expected. And after dinner, everyone, including my mom who is perpetually on a diet, likes all three of my pies. It turns out that eating a slice of each on one plate is the actual definition of heaven.
“So, Park,” Dad says, throwing an arm around his shoulder as he walks us to the front door. Mom and Dad have agreed to let me out of family Thanksgiving early to go see a movie with Park. “In the last few months, you’ve moved away from your home down and came all the way here to Texas. That’s a big life change.”
“Yes, sir it was.” Park doesn’t skip a beat. “It was the right move for my career.”
“Uh, huh,” Dad says. “And did Becca have maybe a small part in your decision?”
Park doesn’t hide the emotion in his eyes when he replies. “Yes, sir. She certainly had a lot to do with it.”
While the rest of the nation crams into super long lines at four in the morning on the Friday after Thanksgiving, Bayleigh and I have a better idea. We do our Christmas shopping on December first. It’s after the stupid Black Friday rush of idiocy, at least that’s what Bayleigh calls it, and it’s before the stores get insanely packed with Christmas shoppers.
December first is the perfect date for holiday shopping.
Now, if only I knew what to get Park.
Last year had been easy. Park’s favorite band, Zombie Radio, had a gig in Houston and I’d managed to score backstage meet and green passes along with front row seats. It had taken two weeks of listening to the radio and calling in thirty million times, but my dedication had paid off. It was a free present, but Park said it was the best one he’d ever gotten.
Trying to find a way to top that gift this year will be next to impossible.
“Why don’t you just give him the gift of sex?” Bayleigh suggests. “You can’t beat that.”
“Oh my God, shut up,” I say, rolling my eyes as I find a great parking spot just outside of the mall. My shopping list today includes about a million toys for Jett, and collector’s addition box set of the Blood Crave series by Christina Channelle for Mom. She’s obsessed with young adult books and that’s her favorite author, so she should love it.
Dad’s gift will be a new wallet for his police badge since the one he has now is all worn out and looks like it’s survived through about twenty apocalypses. For Bayleigh, I’m getting her a gift card to Victoria’s Secret (which is what we get each other every year) and as many bottles of nail polish as I can fit into one shopping bag at Sephora.
I’m not exactly sure what I’ll get Ollie, but I know it’ll be in the form of some kind of t-shirt at his favorite surf shop in the mall. I have everyone figured out and accounted for; everyone except for the most important guy in my life right now.
I sigh as we walk inside the mall. Bayleigh has been talking this entire time but I haven’t even heard a word she’s said, thanks to being caught up in my own world of obsessing over Park. I smile and nod at her and she keeps talking, totally unaware of how much of a bad friend I am. Good. She doesn’t need to know that I’m so pathetic I can’t even put Park out of my mind for five minutes.
After a few hours of shopping, my best friend and I have a dozen bags between the two of us, and we’re all shopped out. Everyone on my list is accounted for except for Park, and it’s been a pretty good day despite that.
Since I’m driving, I take Bayleigh over to her mom’s house so we can pick up Jett and I can’t help myself—I give him one of the toys I had picked out for him at the surf shop. It’s a stuffed shark and he loves it. It’s official. I am the coolest godmother around.
When I get home later, I drop off all of my presents and hide them in the back of my closet. Three of my paintings sold while we were at the mall, so I find the right canvases and pack them up with a shipping label to drop off at the post office before heading to Park’s house.
This is the first Christmas of my life where I’m not worried about needing money to buy gifts. And now, that I have literally hundreds of dollars that I could use on a gift for Park, I can’t think of a single thing to get him.
When I get there, I let myself in because the front door is wide open. “Park?” I call out from the foyer.
“Be there in a second,” he calls out from somewhere upstairs. I walk toward the staircase and get there right when Park comes barreling down them, covered in sweat and wearing a smile the size of Texas. “Hey there,” he says.
I go to rush into his arms, but immediately stop when my hands get soaked against his back. “Ugh,” I say, stepping back.
Park laughs. “Sorry, I was working on the house.”
“Well hurry and shower because I need some massive cuddle time.”
His eyebrows draw together. “Is everything okay?”
I nod. “I am stressed out about something but it’s not a big deal.”
“What is it?”
I push him gently with my hands. “Shower first. Talk later.”
Hours later, we’re cuddled on the couch and I’ve just poured my heart out to him. “Seriously? Christmas presents?” he says, gently stroking my hair with his fingers. “You seemed really upset earlier and it was just because you don’t know what to get me?” He shakes his head and laughs as if that’s the silliest reason to be upset.
Okay, so, maybe I didn’t tell him
every
thing.
“Yeah,” I say. “My present last year was so great and this year I can’t think of anything to get you. You’re a guy who doesn’t really want many things.”
He squeezes me closer and grabs the remote to turn down the volume. “You’re all I need.”
“You can’t say that. I want to get you something. But there’s no way I can top last year’s present.”
“Every year doesn’t have to top the year before it, babe. If you really want to blow me away this Christmas…” He places a finger to his lips as if he’s concentrating and he looks around the living room. “I need dishes, a welcome mat for the front door, some more towels…basically anything for this house and I’d be psyched.”
“So maybe I’ll just get you a nice toaster and call it a day,” I say with a laugh.
“I like toast. That would work.”
I roll my eyes. “I have to give you something good.” Then, because I’m a little insane with anxiety over the sex topic, and because I’d like to judge his reaction, I muster up some boldness and say, “Maybe I’ll cover myself with whipped cream and give you myself as a present.”
“Mmmm,” he says, tucking his lips in the space between my head and shoulder. “That would be the present of the century.”
“Would that count as a present?” I ask lightly, as if it’s a joke. It is so not a joke.
“It’d be the best present ever.”
All the blood in my entire body rushes to my cheeks as I say, “I’ll see what I can do.”
The smell of Mom’s delicious lasagna makes my mouth water as I put the finishing touches on my family’s presents. Mom always makes a lasagna for Christmas Eve dinner. The tradition in our family is as old as I am. Dad always works Christmas day for the double overtime pay and we celebrate on Christmas Eve.
As a kid it was awesome because I got all my presents from Mom and Dad a day early and then I woke up to even more presents from Santa Claus. Now the magic of Santa is gone, but I find more joy in seeing my parents open their gifts now that I’m old enough to afford some.
This year I went a little overboard with the gift buying, but I couldn’t help myself since I have so much money at the moment. My paintings have been selling like crazy, probably thanks to the Christmas rush, and I have over six thousand dollars in my account. Mom almost lost her mind when I said I’d like to start paying for my cell phone and car insurance bill. It just doesn’t feel right letting my parents pay for stuff when I’m almost twenty years old and can actually afford it myself.
I cap the pen I had used to write “from Santa” and “from Aunt Becca” on the gift tags for Jett’s presents. Then I adorn the boxes of colorfully wrapped presents with sparkly bows.
Now I can smell the garlic bread from the kitchen, so I know dinner is almost ready. I grab Mom and Dad’s presents, which ended up being six gifts for each of them, and rush them out to put under the tree, leaving behind Jett and Bayleigh’s gifts, and of course, Park’s.
I went a little overboard for Park, too. I got him the toaster, some silverware, a blender for those shakes he likes but never makes because he doesn’t have a blender, a motocross themed shower curtain and bathmat, and some curtains for his bedroom because the moonlight is crazy bright from where the gigantic windows that face his bed.
And then, well, I accidently bought him more gifts. Flannel pajama pants, some button up shirts for meeting with future clients, the season DVDs of his favorite show, and a framed picture of the two of us, my favorite picture we’ve ever taken. We were at the beach with Jace and Bayleigh, it was cold outside so we were just walking along the sand. I was wearing a tan scarf I had just finished knitting and was very proud of it. Park wore a grey and white striped shirt that I picked out for him at a surf shop near the beach. He had to change clothes because a gust of wind had knocked me into him earlier, spilling half of my ice cream all over his other shirt.
It was the first time I had completely embarrassed myself in front of a guy and that guy had made me feel like it wasn’t a big deal. He had ripped off his ice cream-soaked shirt and held my hand all the way to the nearest store to buy a new one. I still get chills when I picture how good his bare chest looked, lightly dotted with goosebumps because it was so cold outside. I had wanted to run my hand over his chest so bad, but didn’t because we were in public and we hadn’t been dating that long.
The picture was taken by Bayleigh after Park had a new shirt and I had jumped on his back, just playing around. I barely had time to register Bayleigh’s words when she held up her phone and yelled, “Smile!”
Maybe it was the memories that day held, or maybe it was the way Park was looking up at me, smiling like he didn’t have a care in the world. Whatever the case, it was my favorite picture of us, and I decided to make him a copy to keep in his new office.
The excess of gifts for Park wasn’t because I suddenly have money this year. It was my way of making up for feeling so inadequate with the gift I really wanted to give him.
Myself.
After dinner and presents, my parents swear they don’t mind if I go to Park’s for a while, so I slip out of the house feeling only a little bit guilty about abandoning them on Christmas Eve. I think the weirdest thing about leaving on Christmas Eve is the fact that they don’t really seem to care at all. I’m no longer a child and although I’m very happy about that, it’s also a little weird.
Park’s presents hang out in the back seat of my car on the short drive to his new house. My whole car smells like the body wash I used profusely in my shower before I left the house tonight. My hair is also freshly washed and dried, my nails painted, my legs shaved. I need this night to be amazing and I’m not about to let some leg stubble ruin it.
My crazy hot boyfriend is sitting on the porch when I pull into the driveway. He sips from a mug of what is probably hot chocolate and gives me a little wave when I step out of the car.
“Do you have some of that for me?” I ask as I open the door to my backseat. “It’s freezing out here.”
“Of course I do. What are you doing?” he asks as he gets up and walks off the porch.
“Getting your presents,” I call out from the backseat of my car. I try to fit them all in my hands at once, but that’s so not happening.
Just as a couple of the gifts tumble out of my grasp, Park jumps to my rescue and catches them. “Oh my God, babe. You didn’t have to get so many.”
I roll my eyes. “How many did you get me?”
Guilt moves up his face until he bursts into a smile. “A lot.”