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I laugh as she shows her embarrassment.
“I didn’t know we weren’t invited, I didn’t know your dad is sick,andI didn’t know your family is filthy rich and famous!” she cries. “If I had, I would’ve maybe thought harder about my outfit!”
I roll my eyes at her. “You look beautiful.”
I don’t mean for the compliment to sound flirty, but it’s just the truth. She’s wearing a simple, cream cashmere sweater and black jeans. Her makeup is soft and light, and her blonde bob looks silky and straight.
I see movement behind her, and I look up to find my stepmom, Eliza, hurrying down the steps with an excited smile on her face. She waves at me frantically. “Kenny! I’m so happy to see you! Merry Christmas!”
Selena turns around to see who is speaking, and her jaw drops. I feel a little bit bad about not telling her who my stepmom is ahead of time.
I hug Eliza warmly, and she squeezes my shoulders when we break apart.
“You look wonderful,” she tells me. I can tell she is shocked to see Selena next to me. I’ve never brought a girl home. Ever. “And who isthis?”
“This is my friend, Selena,” I say. “And I mean it when I sayfriend, too.” I can’t have her getting ideas and making things uncomfortable for Selena.
To my surprise, Eliza gives Selena a hug. Selena hugs her back, her eyes meeting mine as I watch her mouth, “Oh my gosh,” to me. I chuckle.
“Any friend of Kenneth’s is a friend of mine,” Eliza says. “I’m sure as soon as Shawn sees you, he’ll forget why he’s been pushing you away in the first place.” She motions for us to follow her inside.
“It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Leon,” Selena says as we walk.
“Please,Elizais fine.”
We go inside their new waterfront mansion, and Selena and I wait in the foyer while Eliza goes to get my father. My heart is pounding with the anticipation of seeing him. We used to be really close when I was a kid, but we started to butt heads a lot when I was a teenager. He tried to have strict rules with me, and I thoroughly enjoyed breaking them. Even when we both moved to LA, we only saw each other over the holidays. But then when he got his ALS, he started not wanting to see me at all.
Well, I’m here now, hoping to change that.
I’m surprised when my dad finally comes around the corner. He is not using a walker or a cane. He standing on his own two feet.
And he doesn’t look happy to see me.
21
GISELLE
It’s weird waking up in my old bedroom, but I guess I appreciate the fact that my parents didn’t convert it into something else. I’m pretty sure they’ll probably end up keeping it like this until I’m retired. They always want me to feel like I have somewhere to come home to, should things not work out for me in LA.
I know it’s Christmas day, but it’s still remarkably early, so I take some time going through some of my drawers and looking around in my closet. I love the nostalgic feeling of going through all of my old belongings. I even find a journal of mine from when I was in high school. When I read through the entries, I smile. If only my fifteen-year-old self had known what her future had in store.
A man’s voice coming from downstairs that doesn’t sound like my father’s catches my attention, so I walk out of my bedroom and head over to the railing. Peering down into the kitchen, I see that Steve—who normally prefers to sleep in and hates mornings—is already awake, talking with my family over coffee. And here I was thinking I probably woke up first.
Who starts their Christmas morning before six? I guess the Cosgrove family does.
I put on my Christmas slippers and robe, hoping my sister has on the matching set that I bought for her, too. Then I go downstairs and join everyone.
“Merry Christmas!” they yell at me.
“Merry Christmas,” I say with a tired smile. Steve walks over and kisses my cheek. I give him a quick hug so that my family will buy it. Steve had slept in the guest room last night. We haven’t exactly ever slept in the same bed before, and Christmas Eve in my old high school bedroom didn’t seem like the best place to start.
“Steve is telling us more about how you two met,” my short, little mother tells me. I didn’t get my height from her; she’s a little five-foot-two woman with wide hips and permed red hair. “How some famous fashion designer introduced you.”
My stomach dips at the thought of Eliza. I wonder what she’s up to on this lovely Christmas morning. Outside my window, it’s snowing, but I bet in LA, it’s sunny and bright.
“That’s… lovely,” I say to Mom. Then I wiggle my eyebrows at my little sister. “Love your robe and slippers.” We’re pretty much matching, except for the fact that hers have green and red stripes, and mine have red and white stripes.
Blair hugs her robe tighter to herself. “Thanks!” she says with a smile.
