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Elijah roots around the presents and separates them according to person before handing them out to each of us. He takes extra caution to hand me presents delicately, setting them down at my feet and on the couch beside me.
“Throw the wrapping paper behind the couch so I can clear it after,” Dad huffs, setting down his coffee.
Instead of going in order like we would do with Mom, everyone starts tearing apart gifts like rabid animals. I don’t think I’ve ever been a part of a Christmas that had so many presents. It’s overwhelming, and frankly embarrassing that I contributed so little.
I take my time reading the cards, seeing who it’s from. All the ones that are from Santa are from Dad, which is most of the pile. He is a spoiler. I unwrap new clothes, gift cards, shoes, makeup and more until I feel like a gluttonous bastard, slumped over, overstuffed and tired.
Elijah’s gifts is the very last one I open. He’s trying on a pair of shoes as I carefully unwrap the paper. I can tell he wrapped this himself, too. The layers peel back to reveal another shoe box. When I open it up, I see lime green ice skates inside with a blade so sharp I’m afraid that just looking at it will cut me open.
I hold them up and Jessica beams with excitement. Dad nods in approval as Elijah finally looks over at me and stands up as soon as he sees it.
“Crap, I wanted you to wait to open those. What do you think?” he asks.
“I think the last time I went ice skating was in elementary school, but I love them. Thank you.”
He yanks them out of the box to loosen up the laces. “May I?” he asks, kneeling in front of me, grabbing my foot.
“Sure,” I laugh uncomfortably as the parents stare me down. He slips the skate over my sock and secures it around my ankle.
“Does it fit?” he asks, concern in his voice.
“It does, actually. Wow. Thank you.” I look down at the matte green skates. They’re surprisingly beautiful. It feels like my feet are wielding some sort of weapon, and I like it.
“Good because I’m going to teach you.”
Dad chuckles. “Just be careful. We don’t need her in the hospital for another week, yeah?”
“Of course,” Elijah says, holding my hand. Jessica looks from our hands to her son. Her eyes are curious, but not angry. “We’ll give it a couple days until she’s feeling better.”
“No…” I say, surprising myself. My body feels okay, and the thought excites me. “I want to try them now.”
“You sure?” he asks, rubbing his thumb over the top of my hand. “You’re supposed to be getting rest.”
“It’s not like I’ll be doing anything more than just learning how to stand on them. Maybe skating, you know, using one of those kiddie things to guide me. What do you think, Dad?”
“It’s fine by me. If you fall, I’ll make sure Elijah never hears the end of it.”
“I won’t let that happen,” Elijah responds in an uncomfortably serious tone.
We open up stockings and carry away our gifts to our rooms, thanking everyone for a great Christmas morning. Elijah helps me get ready to go to the rink to test out the new skates. I think he’s more excited than I am. I’ve never been too curious how to ice skate, but having some alone time outside of the house with him sounds great to me. I love the way he lights up when he talks about hockey, too. It always puts him in a good mood, and there’s nothing sexier than a happy Elijah.
We take Dad’s truck, I have the skates in my lap, fiddling with the laces when I get nervous about being in a car again. Luckily the roads aren’t icy, just slushy as we make our way to the rink.
“You have access to it?” I ask.
“I asked for a special favor from Coach. We have access to it all week. Just us.”
“You do too much, Elijah,” I say, and he reaches over to hold my hand.
“I don’t think I’ve done enough, baby.”
He helps me out of the truck and holds onto the skates until we make it to the back door of the rink. The lights overhead turn on across the stadium as we make our way to the sidelines where the players usually sit. It feels weird being where Elijah is every game, experiencing the rink from his perspective. The stands look huge and empty from here. I can only imagine what it would be like to witness a crowd full of fans cheering for me.
He helps ease the skates over my feet as I sit on the bench, before putting his own on. His look worn and scuffed compared to mine, but also sturdier.
“Ready to stand up?” he asks, reaching his hands out to grab mine. I hesitantly oblige, already feeling wobbly. “It’ll feel a bit weird until we’re on the ice. The ground isn’t forgiving of the blades here.”
I stand up, letting him guide me to the ice. His arm wrapped around my waist securely as he opens the plexiglass door and gently eases us to the ice. The skates immediately slip out from under me, but he pulls me up before my body even has a second to think about falling.
