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She makes me want to be reckless, too.
“Glad to know I have a backup option,” she says. “Though, to be honest, I think you can only talk about cocks one or two times before someone starts to think you reallymightbe trying to organize an orgy.”
“Three times a charm. Hey, I want to talk to you about tomorrow.”
“Okay. What’s tomorrow?”
“There’s this thing my family and I do every year. It started back when my dad was a mail carrier—he delivered letters for thirty-five years. Christmas was always his favorite time of year. He would read the letters kids wrote to Santa, and he’d partner with local companies to surprise them with a gift off their wish list.”
“Wow. That’s incredible. That’s a great way to get in the holiday spirit.”
“It is. It kind of grew over the years. I remember the first time we went around we had fifteen families to drop off gifts for. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to make them smile. When I signed my rookie contract, I wanted to make what he was doing an official organization, so I did.”
“Oh, Shawn. What a thoughtful gesture.” She nestles her cheek onto my arm and squeezes me tight. “Please keep talking. I want to hear more.”
“It’s called Operation Give Back, and we’ve kept that gift giving tradition in place. It’s grown a lot, and so many people benefit from it. It’s a good reminder of what the year is about, you know?”
“I definitely know. Whenever I walk through the hospital to visit Maggie in November and December, you see these folks who are sick or hurting but they’re still smiling because they’re surrounded by the people they love. They don’t have a million presents under the Christmas tree, but what theydohave, they’re so grateful for.”
“Exactly. Tomorrow is the day we designated to deliver gifts. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you—I feel like I’ve been running around the last couple of weeks, and I forgot you don’t know what my family does for the holidays. It’s going to be cold and we’ll be spending a lot of hours on our feet, so please don’t feel obligated to join. I just wanted to give you a heads up for where I’ll be tomorrow when I disappear.”
“Are you kidding? I’d love to join you all, if that’s okay.”
“It’s more than okay.” I turn my cheek and give her a quick kiss on her forehead. “I want you there, and I’m glad I’ll have you by my side.”
* * *
The drive is short,and traffic is light for a holiday weekend. We zip up I-95, and soon we’re turning onto my parents’ street. The sun inches higher in the sky, and I’m hit with a wave of nostalgia from being back in a place I know so well.
“That’s their house on the corner,” I say. I park the car on the road and turn off the ignition. The driveway is full of rental cars and my parents’ Subarus—matching white Outbacks they’ve had since 2015 and refuse to trade in. “Ready to get this party started?”
“Let’s do it.” She reaches over and high fives me, and I chuckle when she jumps out of the car. “I didn’t even ask, but I’m assuming we’re sharing a room?”
“Yeah. Shit, I’m sorry I didn’t run that by you. I can sleep on the floor or something.”
“Shawn. You’ve seen me naked. You’ve bent me over my couch and jerked off with a pair of my underwear. We can survive sleeping in the same bed.”
“If you feel uncomfortable in the middle of the night, you can kick me out,” I say.
“It’s really sweet of you to think I’ll be able to move your two-hundred-pound body,” Lacey says, and she grins. “I’m sure I could push you with all of my might and you wouldn’t go anywhere.”
We head up the driveway, and I nod toward a bush on the left. “My sister Katelin shoved me into that shrub once when she found out I hid all of her Paramore CDs in the backyard.”
“I’d shove you in it, too,” she says, and I pinch her hip. She squeals and runs toward the door, raising her fist to knock. “Wait, do we just walk in? You don’t technically live here anymore.”
“Sweetheart, my blood is literally on these front steps from the time I stumbled home drunk on my eighteenth birthday. We’re not knocking.”
“The audacity of them to put stairs here, honestly.”
“Can’t believe they didn’t ask me about my drinking habits when they bought the place a year before I was born.”
“Okay, so we’re just—”
The door flies open before Lacey can finish asking her question. Three small bodies barrel into me and wrap their arms around my waist.
“Uncle Shawn,” Parker, my oldest niece, says. “You’re here.”
“Hey, princess.” I set my bags down and pick her up. She’s halfway through her first year in middle school and getting taller every time I see her, but she still lets out a giggle as I spin her around like a helicopter. I’ve been doing it since she was a toddler, and I hope she never asks me to stop.
