Contessa (51 page)

“
That
’
s not even necessary,
”
Jon says, but accepts the hand my dad extends to him.
“
It
’
s much better than seeing people stand back and watch their family members go down the wrong path. I think it
’
s admirable that you
’
re trying to help.
”

“
It may be a lost cause at this point, if he doesn
’
t make some significant changes really quickly. But enough about Brandon. I hope you came hungry.
”

“
Starving. I haven
’
t eaten since the milk and cookies from earlier.
”

“
Perfect. We made too much, I
’
m sure.
”

“
I can eat a lot,
”
Jon says, following my family into the kitchen.

We all serve ourselves from dishes on the kitchen island, and then retreat to our
rarely used
formal dining room, which is modestly decorated with a few strings of Christmas lights. As we settle into our seats, I prepare myself for my dad
’
s typical toast.

He clears his throat and picks up his glass, smiling and meeting the eyes of everyone around the table.
“
I just want to wish my family a Merry Christmas, and I want to welcome Jon to his first Christmas celebration at our home. We
’
re pretty low-key here, but I hope you have a nice evening.
”
He clinks his glass to my mother
’
s and brother
’
s, then holds it up to me and Jon. My mom and I look at one another curiously, but drink. That was not the typical eloquent toast he delivers.

“
If I can say something really quickly,
”
Jon adds.
“
Thank you for having me here tonight. It truly means a lot to me to be included in your celebration, and I hope you know that your daughter also means a lot to me. I hope this is the first of many holidays we can share together.
”

My dad nods and takes another drink, then sets his glass down and starts eating. Over dinner, we mainly talk about my family
’
s plans for the weekend at the lake house. We take turns explaining to Jon about the various gatherings we have and which cousins belong to whose side of the family. We joke about getting out a chart to show him, but he follows along quite well. I forget his brain is a sponge.

After we eat, we go into the living room with the presents. Mom fixes chai tea for everyone, her favorite holiday beverage, and we all settle in around the tree. Dad turns on some holiday music as Trey pokes around under the tree, finding all of the presents with his name on them.

“
Are we opening presents tonight, Daddy?
”

“
You can open the one Jon brought and you can pick one other one from under the tree. The rest of them have to wait until Christmas Eve.
”

“
Me, too?
”
I ask my dad. He rolls his eyes but agrees. I quickly grab one particular box that had my curiosity piqued from the moment I noticed it under the tree. Jon arranges the four presents he
’
d brought in front of him. I feel queasy, looking at the small box he has for me.
Jewelry
. Now I
’
m scared again.

After all, the first gift he ever gave me–the one for my birthday–was deeply personal, and we had only been talking for a few weeks. We weren
’
t even officially dating. If he could give me something so meaningful back then, I shudder to think what he
’
s done tonight. That
’
s not to say I don
’
t want it; I
’
m just afraid of my parents
’
reactions.

“
I wasn
’
t sure what to get you two,
”
Jon says humbly as he hands each of my parents a cylindrical container that contains the wine he
’
d mentioned to me.
“
Don
’
t worry, I didn
’
t buy it. My uncle got it for me. He said they were both good.
”

“
Very nice,
”
my dad says as he studies the bottle and recognizes the brand.
“
Thank you. This will not go to waste in this house.
”

“
Definitely not,
”
my mother chimes in.
“
We
’
ll have to save it for a special occasion,
”
she says.
“
Maybe our anniversary.
”

“
They got married on January first,
”
I explain to Jon.
“
It won
’
t sit for long.
”

“
Well,
”
Jon says,
“
happy anniversary, then, too.
”

“
Thank you,
”
my parents say together.

“
Jackson, go ahead,
”
Dad says, noticing my brother peeking beneath the taped paper of the gift Jon has handed him. He tears into the paper to discover the set of wooden car parts that he has to assemble.

“
Cool!
”
he says.
“
I love cars!
”

“
That
’
s what I heard. You don
’
t have those yet?
”

“
Nope!
”

“
Awesome. You can actually mix and match the pieces to make, like, five different types of cars or something,
”
he explains.
“
There are instructions inside.
”
My brother rips into the packaging and pours out all of the pieces, ignoring the printed instructions–or Jon
’
s–and just trying to figure out how they go together on his own.

“
Jon, I think Livvy has one for you,
”
my mom says to him. I crawl under the tree to grab the large box and hand it to him. His eyes are on my legs, and I have to wave the box in his face to get his attention. Thankfully, Dad has moved over next to Trey to help him with his cars.

“
Sorry,
”
he mouths to me. I smile, not at all bothered by his lack of manners.

“
I hope you like it,
”
I tell him as he opens it. I watch his expression as he lifts the lid from the box.

“
Wow, Olivia,
”
he says as he takes the leather bag out of the box. Acutely aware once again of the use of my full name, I look at my father this time. He actually looks confused, as if he
’
s misheard him.
“
This is nice.
”

“
I thought you
’
d get a lot of use out of it next year at school
–or
even this year. I mean, how long have you had that backpack?
”

“
It
’
s monogrammed?
”
he asks as he presses his fingers into the leather. He
’
s looking in all the pockets, smiling.
“
This is great! Oh, and seven years,
”
he adds.
“
I will be so happy to throw that thing away. This is great. I can fit so much into this. Wow. Thank you, Olivia.
”

“
You
’
re welcome.
”

“
Livvy, would you like to open one?
”

I choose the present from my parents first, still too afraid to open Jon
’
s gift. When I glance at him, it looks like I made the right choice. He looks completely anxious as he shuffles the box in his hands, back and forth.

“
Oh, my god, Mom, these are amazing,
”
I say as I pull out the pair of shoes from the box.

“
You may not get much wear out of them this winter, but I got such a good deal on them, I couldn
’
t not buy them for you.
”

“
I absolutely love them.
”
The heels on the sparkling shoes are about three inches high.

“
Are you going to wear those to school, Liv?
”
my dad asks, joking.

“
Girls wear shoes like this to school all the time,
”
I tell him.
“
So probably.
”

“
Can you even walk in those?
”
he adds.

“
Of course!
”
I roll my eyes at him, but in truth I know I
’
ll have to practice a lot. They
’
re higher and
daintier
than any shoes I
’
ve ever owned.
“
Do you like them?
”
I ask Jon as I hold them up next to my feet, sticking my legs out. I see my dad shift uncomfortably out of the corner of my eye.

“
They
’
re pretty,
”
Jon says simply, swallowing hard.

“
Your turn, Jackson,
”
Dad says quickly. The next gift is a new music player. He
’
d been begging for a new one since he dropped his other one in the bathtub.
“
You can
’
t use that until you open the waterproof case for it that
’
s somewhere under the tree–
”

“
Daddy!
”
Trey protests.

“
We
’
ll find it tonight, buddy. But you have to be more careful with this one, okay?
”

“
I promise.
”

“
Jon
’
s turn,
”
I say quickly, wanting him to open the gift from my parents.

“
Ladies first,
”
he says as he hands me the small box.

“
No, you go.
”

“
I insist.
”
We stare at one another for a good ten seconds before he nods at me to go first. I trust him, and start to peel away the paper. I recognize the jewelry brand on the small box. The entire family is quiet, watching me open this gift.

I want to throw up.

“
Maybe we should–
”
I try to stall.

“
Open it,
”
Jon and my father say in unison. I look at Jon and his encouraging expression, then glance toward my dad.
“
Go on,
”
he says.

I fold back the hinged lid to find a small silver ring with six tiny diamonds–or what appear to be diamonds–mounted in the center.

“
It
’
s a promise ring,
”
Jon says quickly, cutting the silence.

“
Oh,
”
I breathe, and hear another sigh coming from my mother. Dad gets up abruptly and goes into the kitchen. Jon moves closer to me and takes the ring out of the box.

“
I love you, Olivia,
”
he says softly,
“
and I
’
d like you to wear this ring, so no matter where I am, you know how much you mean to me. I
’
m always with you.
”

“
It
’
s so pretty.
”
My heart is pounding, and I
’
m not sure if it
’
s sheer excitement about the gift or fear of what my father has to say–what my father is
sure
to say.