“It made sense in the moment!” he argued, pointing at the card like it betrayed him.
“Nah, y’all a mess,” Woods said, chuckling deep and low. “I can’t tell if y’all drunk or just uncoordinated.”
“I’m tipsy and Axe clearly ain’t good at this game,” Vanessa said with a shrug, laughing. “Not a good combo.”
Round after round, Woods and I stayed locked in. I didn’t even need full clues. All it took was hand gestures, vague hints, a raised eyebrow, and he was guessing it like we had telepathy.
“You two cheating somehow,” my dad said, squinting at us like we had earpieces in. “Y’all using relationship cues and unfair advantages.”
I grinned. “We just got chemistry. Don’t be mad at it.”
Vanessa fake-pouted. “We need a rematch after Christmas. I want a do-over when my brain cells are sober.”
“We can run it back anytime,” Woods said, stretching his arms behind his head, smug as hell. “But I’ma warn you now… we gon’ win again.”
I leaned back against his chest, feeling warm and full and smug as hell, too. “Exactly.”
My dad shook his head, reaching for his cigar. “I’m ready to go. I done had enough beatdowns for one night.”
“Well, in that case,” I said, stretching with a yawn. “It’s the perfect time to give you your gifts before you hit the road.” I got up and went to the tree.
Woods stood up. “Vanessa, you need help packin’ up some food to go?”
“Thank you. We appreciate it,” she replied, and then they disappeared around the corner.
I handed my dad his gifts, and he waved off the attention with a tired smirk. “You didn’t have to get me nothing, baby girl.”
“Yeah, yeah. But I did, so open them.”
He pulled out the tissue paper with way more care than necessary, probably stalling on purpose like he wasn’t excited. First, he pulled out the bottle of aged whiskey. His eyebrows lifted just a little, and I caught the soft grunt he tried to swallow.
“Ayy, now this right here,” he said, flipping the bottle in his hand, “this is the good shit.”
“I know what I’m doing, old man,” I teased.
He chuckled. Then he reached deeper into the bag and pulled out the small stack of silk ties, all wrapped together in a custom brown box with gold trim. Deep navy, soft burgundy, a cold-ass charcoal gray. All designer. He opened the box and nodded slowly. “These are nice,” he muttered, feeling over the fabric. “Real nice. Thank you, baby girl.”
I smiled as he set everything back down, then got up and walked over to the coat rack. I watched as he retrieved a long, slender box from his pocket and passed back over to the livingroom. “I got something for you too,” he said, handing me the box wrapped in black wrapping paper with a red satin bow.
My heart jumped just a little when I saw it. I already knew it was jewelry. That’s how he did every year. I took it with both hands and stared at it for a second before setting it on the table. “You know I ain’t opening it ’til Christmas Day,” I said with a grin.
He shook his head. “Still doing that?”
“Every year. You’re not ruining my tradition.” He turned toward me, stepped over, and kissed my cheek. I hugged him, holding on a little longer than usual. “Love you, Daddy.”
“Love you more, baby girl. It’s us against it all.” As we pulled apart, my dad exhaled and looked at me. It wasn’t a glance either. It was that look. The one that sees every damn thing I try to hide. “You alright?” His voice was soft.
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Uh-huh,” he murmured, eyes narrowing just slightly. “That’s what you keep saying, but you ain’t touched a drink all night. Not wine. Not tequila. Not even a little sip.” I swallowed once as he kept looking at me. “Autumn… you love your tequila, especially on holidays. You get lit. So, tell me why you been holding out.”
My throat tightened, and my pulse jumped. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t look angry. He was just concerned. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. And then my dad exhaled, knowingly, and shook his head with a soft, stunned chuckle.
“Lord…” His eyes softened. “You’re pregnant, ain’t you?” My lips trembled before I could stop them. I nodded, tears filling my eyes instantly. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he whispered, voice breaking just a little bit. “My baby… having a baby.”
My shoulders dropped as he pulled me in and wrapped his arms around me while I silently shook against him. “I was scared to tell you,” I whispered into his coat. “I didn’t want you to think I fucked up.”
“Fucked up?” he echoed, pulling back just enough to look at me. “Autumn… baby girl… you ain’t never been a fuck-up. Not one day in your damn life.”
