Letting You Know (26 page)

I
realized, seeing Leah's furrowed brow, her tense neck, what had just
happened.

Oh
god, she didn't know she'd be getting anything.

Looking
up at me, she gave a silent plea. It was obvious, to me, that Leah
didn't want gifts of any kind. Especially when she hadn't seemed to
have gotten gifts for anyone else.

I
should have told her, why did I think it was obvious?

Bethany
received one as well, not seeming surprised in the least.
Of
course, she came here for Christmas with me, before. She knows the
drill.

“
Now,
go ahead, open them!”

My
brother tore the paper away with his one hand. It became easier when
it was revealed to be a new shirt, allowing him to grip the cloth and
shake it out until the wrapping flew off. “Thanks, Grandma!”

I
opened mine easily, paper splitting down the middle with less
fanfare. It was no shock I'd been given a similar shirt. “Haha,
thanks. Now we can be twins, just like I always wanted.”

Everyone
chuckled, their eyes shifting to watch the girl beside me. Leah was
sitting still, holding the gift like it was a bomb.

“
Go
on,” I whispered, “open it up.”

“
Yeah,”
she said, voice wavering like she'd been holding her breath.
“Alright.” Warily, she ripped away the Santa faces,
revealing a white box. The cover was lifted gingerly, agonizingly
slow. “Oh,” she gasped, lifting out the lavender blouse
for all to see.

Smiling,
I gathered the trash, handing it off to my father who held a plastic
bag. “That's really pretty, Leah.”

“
Yes,”
she agreed quietly, grinning helplessly at the delighted faces of my
family. “Thank you so, so much! I love it.”

Bethany
opened her gift last, revealing a set of fuzzy blue gloves. “Thanks
a lot, guys,” she laughed, tugging them on.

The
evening progressed smoothly from there, though I could sense that
Leah was having a hard time accepting the presents from everyone.

I
wonder if she's worried they'll be mad about her not getting them
anything? My grandparents just enjoy doting on people. They don't
mind if they receive anything or not.

“
Oh,”
my grandmother said, lifting a few more boxes. “Here's a bunch
from Deacon.” Carefully, she offered a box to my mother, then
my father.

Nicholas,
who'd been idly smiling all the while, openly gaped when he was
offered a tiny wrapped package. “For me?” He said in
disbelief, eyeing me dubiously.

For
Leah,
I
thought sadly. “Yeah, of course,” I managed to say,
smiling tightly. “That's for you.”

Leah
blinked, looking around as, for the first time since sitting down,
she wasn't handed anything. She said nothing, not a peep.

It
hurt so much, imagining what she had to be thinking just then.

She
got gifts from everyone but me, how else can she take it but to feel
terrible?

I
feel terrible, myself.

My
brother opened the wrapping, staring at the cherry red cell phone.
“Wow, a new phone. I uh, I don't know what to say, Deacon.”

Sitting
up, he reached out with his one arm, handing me a flat box from under
the tree. He passed a similar one to Leah. “Uh, these are for
you guys. They aren't brand new phones, but...”

“
You
didn't need to get me anything,” Leah said, seeming to debate
handing it back. Instead, she watched me rip mine open, and followed
suit.

Together,
we held up the plastic cards. “Haha, you got us gift cards to
an art store?” I asked, amused by the thought.

“
Yeah,
I mean, you guys probably go through supplies pretty quick, I
imagine.” Smiling, he tucked the phone away. It was a guilty
gesture, but I knew he had no reason to feel badly.

He
thought our gifts through, which is more than I can claim.

Leah
tucked the card into her pocket, looking uncomfortable. “Thank
you so much, Nicholas. I mean, that was... that was really
considerate.”

“
Yeah,
thanks,” I said, glancing at her from the corner of my eye.
Maybe
I'm reading too much into that, but I'm guessing she feels worse
about not getting anything from me, now.

Shit,
what am I going to do?

“
There's
one here for you, Deacon,” Grandma said, revealing a small
envelope I hadn't noticed before.

“
Who's
it from?” I asked, baffled.

“
From
me,” Leah said, meeting my surprised expression.

Yes,
of course she'd get me something. Life couldn't try and make this any
harder for me, could it?

Blushing,
I took the envelope, running my finger tips along the crisp sides.
Scratching at the sticky part, I peeled it open. I was aware of all
the eyes on me, curious about what the quiet girl beside me could
have given to me.

I
was curious, too.

Gasping,
I lifted the thin piece of hard cardboard free. The surface was
painted into a wonderful picture of two sparrows, both of them flying
across to meet each other.

Between
them, Leah had painted a little planet, one side toned dark blue, the
other green and bright yellow.

Tingled
ran over my spine, especially as I understood how much work she had
put into this. How much effort had gone, as well, into hiding it from
me.

“
I
know I seem to keep giving you stuff I make as gifts,” she said
suddenly, clearly embarrassed, “but I hope you still like it.”

Shaking
my head, I hid it away, as if to keep it our secret. “It's
wonderful, I love it, Leah. Thank you so much.”

She
chewed at the corner of her mouth, struggling with being pleased and
under the spot light.

Nicholas
made a soft whistle sound. “That looked really pretty. I'm glad
I got you that gift card, now. I feel sort of justified.” He
gave a tiny smile.

Brushing
back her hair, Bethany spoke softly, perhaps scared to break the
mood. “No, seriously, Leah... that looked beautiful. You really
made that?”

Her
answer was a quick nod.

Everyone
seemed unsure what to do next. Gingerly, I set the card on my thigh,
holding it protectively.

She
made this, for me. Now the fact I got her nothing, did nothing, looks
even more horrible. Good job, Deacon. Gold star boyfriend, for sure.

My
dad cleared his throat, reaching over and clapping me on the shoulder
tightly. Looking up, I saw the socks in his hands. “Thanks son,
I needed these.”

“
As
always,” my mom laughed, grinning at me with her new coffee mug
in hand. “But yes, thank you, Deacon.”

Clapping
his hands together, my grandfather stood up, helping to gather scraps
of paper to stuff in the garbage bag my dad had been hoarding.
“Alright then, let's get something sweet into everyone, what do
y'all say?”

Bethany
nodded eagerly, standing in one smooth motion. Leah emulated her,
rising above me and dusting off her knees. “That sounds great,
actually.”

Groaning
with a yawn, feeling burned out from waiting for that moment to have
come and gone with the gifts, I wished I felt more relieved. It was
over, in a sense, but there was no way Leah wasn't hurting from being
left out.

I'll
tell her... something. I don't know. Maybe I can still come up with a
gift in time.

My
knees creaked as I straightened up. Holding the envelope tight, I
moved to follow everyone out of the room. Before I could, Nicholas
reached out from where he was sitting, grabbing at my arm.

“
Come
on,” he said, motioning me with his one good hand towards the
door. “Let's go for a walk.”

Opening
my mouth, I fought down the urge to argue against him.

He's
right. I can't fix my mistake with Leah right now, anyway. Perhaps I
can still try and mend one of my missteps tonight.

Setting
the envelope containing the painting my girlfriend had done onto the
living-room table, I grabbed my jacket and followed my brother out
into the cold.

****

It
was freezing outside, made worse by the darkness of the December
night. There was no moon to be seen, the thick clouds roiling so
close I thought I might reach up and touch one.

That
snow really wants to come down.

Walking
beside my brother, I followed him across the crunching ground, moving
further from the lights on the house.

Part
of me wished we'd found a way to have this conversation inside. Yet,
recalling how similar it felt to the other night, when I had shoved
him hard in a fit of rage...

Being
out in the cold seemed fitting.

“
It'll
probably start anytime,” Nicholas said.

“
Hmn?”

“
The
snow.” He gestured upwards with his chin, slowing his steps
until he came to a halt. Looking around, digging my gloves into my
pockets, I noticed where we were.

In
the dark, the tire swing looked more ominous than nostalgic.

“
Remember
this thing?” I asked, smiling at the ring of rubber. “Dad
used to push us on this all the time.”

“
He
pushed you,” Nicholas corrected me, not hiding the sour note in
his voice. “The only person who actually swung me on this was
Grandad.”

Frowning,
I looked my brother over. In the dim light, his face seemed drawn;
older, pale and frail. “I think... I think I pushed you on it,
too.”

His
green eyes found me, unchanging. “Did you? I think I remember
that, actually.”

“
I'd
tell you stories,” I went on, reaching out to touch the old,
rough rope. “Make you pick a directions to go on your
adventures, that sort of stuff.”

“
Yeah,”
he mused quietly. “Yeah, I remember that now.”

How
much of our childhood has been erased by the bitter years of growing
up?
Wondering,
I built up the courage to finally break into the real meat of our
arguments. “Nicholas, listen, what you've been saying to me...
stuff about forgetting you, removing you... I've been trying to
figure out what you meant. Trying to understand it.”