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You don’t realize how unique family celebrations are until you spend them with a family that’s not your own.
I’m used to my dad reading “’Twas The Night Before Christmas” with a cup of hot chocolate or eggnog, a tradition that continued well into my teens since Liz was so much younger. I’m pretty sure the idea was to calm us down and get us ready for bed, so it was fairly low-key.
Cruz’s family does the opposite. Bingo is chaotic, with shouting and swearing and laughter, and lots of drinking depending on how many times I-21 comes up. I never imagined Christmas Eve could be so loud, or borderline indecent.
Now, as I watch them all tear into their presents, I can’t help making another comparison between calm and chaos.
I’m used to an orderly one-person-at-a-time method of opening presents, so you can see what everyone gets. Cruz’s family does more of a free-for-all, which I was not expecting after the one-by-one Bingo reveal last night. I guess maybe they put more emphasis on gag gifts than real ones.
I’m actually glad they do it this way, since I don’t have anything to open. Not that there’s a sky-high stack of presents in front of anyone, but it’s less noticeable that I don’t have anything in front of me when we don’t take turns going around the circle.
“Thanks, Pop,” Cruz grins as he holds up a pair of Nike high tops.
“I know how fast you must go through shoes walking all over campus,” his dad says. “And they’re Nike, so you can wear them all the time.”
I’m fairly certain his dad doesn’t realize the team provides Cruz with an endless supply of Nike running shoes since they’re the official sponsor, and that he only has to wear Nike while playing. But the guy is beaming about his gift, and being the golden retriever he is, Cruz doesn’t point out how easy it would be for him to get a pair.
Were my parents ever that happy about a gift they got for me? Maybe when I was little, or before Liz got sick. I honestly can’t remember.
“Oh, heck yeah!” Tommy shouts as he opens a stethoscope. “A titanium cardiology scope in mermaid.” He slaps it around his neck and holds up the cone shaped bell for inspection, which looks rainbow colored to me. Nice touch.
Cheryl tries pointing out the additional features while Tommy tries to use it on Grandma, and Grandpa is struggling with a stubborn bow on his gift when one falls into my lap.
“Merry Christmas,” Cruz’s mom says.
I stare at the box for a few seconds before looking up to meet her smiling face. “For me?” I ask lamely.
She gestures to the box. “Open it.”
“For me?” I repeat, since my brain can’t connect the dots between Cruz’s mom and the package on my lap. “Why?”
“Because it’s Christmas,” Cruz says, leaning forward to see what I got despite the fact I haven’t attempted to open it yet.
“You told me I only needed a gag gift.” I feel a minor panic coming on as I look at Cruz. “I didn’t think we were doing gifts. I didn’t bring anything.”
I knew I should’ve grabbed a dessert, or bottle of wine, or sparkling cider since I’m not old enough to buy wine.
“I told you that so you wouldn’t stress about trying to find something to bring.” Cruz has the audacity to look pleased with himself.
“Yeah, now I can stress about how rude it is to receive a gift without giving one in return,” I mutter.
“No one here is keeping score, now stop complaining and open it,” Cruz says.
I pick up the flat, rectangular box, wrapped in paper that has dozens of images of Santa’s sleigh on a baby blue background, and rip into it. Tossing the paper to the floor, I lift the lid and find a plush green sweatshirt with a silver image of a bighorn sheep. Our school mascot. And when I lift it out of the box, I see the letters underneath the sheep read ‘lacrosse.’
“How did you… Where… They don’t even make these. Lacrosse is a club sport. I didn’t think there was official gear for sale.” I blink up at Cruz’s mom, who just smiles affectionately.
“It wasn’t easy to find.” I hear the proud grin in Cruz’s voice. “Mom had me special order it from the bookshop.”
“I… thank you.”
She leans over to give me a hug. “Thank you for coming. I know it must be hard to be in a strange place for the holidays, but we’re glad you’re here.”
When was the last time anyone told me that?
Swallowing the gargantuan lump in my throat, I nod and busy myself with folding the sweatshirt so she can’t see the tears threatening to leave my eyes.
***
