“Since it’s my first one, I looked up a toast. Can I do it?” Amara asks.
“You got it,” I tell her.
“Can I record it and put it on Skroll?”
“For the people to come arrest me for giving a minor alcohol?” I scoff.
“Oh yeah. I didn’t think of that. But can I at least send Kimmie a picture?”
“No. No phones,” I say. “Do the toast before we stop this tradition.”
“Okay. Okay. Raise your glasses,” she says and we do. Excitedly, she says, “Holly and mistletoe hanging up and something tipsy in every cup. Merry Christmas.”
Meleck and I shake our heads as we say, “Merry Christmas,” and clink our glasses. Then we all take our food and drinks into the living room.
After Meleck blesses the food, Amara tackles the tree. She picks her one present to open. When she was smaller, she would always pick the largest one with her name on it. However, after picking the largest box two years ago and it only had panties inside, she abandoned that strategy. Now, she takes her time, shaking boxes and feeling them. She decides on a medium sized one for herself then she picks the two bags she bought, one for me and one for Meleck.
“I don’t want to break y’all’s tradition but can you open two? I have something for you two,” he says to my surprise.
“Yeah, we can do that,” Amara answers quickly for both of us. “You’re with us now, so that can be our new tradition,” she gushes. “Where are they?”
“In the truck. Let me get them.” He places his plate on the coffee table then walks out of the house.
“I wonder what it is,” Amara says, still clearly excited.
“Me too,” I utter honestly. “But eat something while he’s out there. Your pancakes are getting cold.”
“I better eat because I’m already feeling this mimosa. I think I might be getting drunk,” she says and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“Then definitely eat. You don’t want to get drunk and be hungover in the morning.”
“Def don’t want that,” she says before grabbing her plate and eating her pancakes.
I continue to eat my food but my mind is stuck outside.He bought us presents.
Five minutes later, Meleck walks in carrying a white box with a Christmas gift bag on top. He places the box on the end table next to me, grabs the bag, and places it on the table by Amara.
I wonder what he got us.As he sits and kills his hash, my eyes wander back to this white box.
“Let’s open presents now. You two first. Open what I got you,” Amara says before taking another sip of her mimosa. She gets on her knees then pushes our bags closer. “Wren, you first.”
After placing my plate on the end table next to me, I grab the bag. I remove the red and green tissue paper then see a pack of small spoons. I pull them out and my heart stops. The small spoons are customized andYou Jam Right!is printed on the handles.
“For your jams,” she says.
“I love these. Where did you do this? How? They are perfect. Thank you so much,” I gush as I reach over the table and hug her. “I really love these.”
“I’m so glad. We can get more to add to your orders.”
“We definitely will.”
“Okay, Meleck. Check your bag,” she coaxes. He places his empty plate on the table then grabs his bag. He digs through it and pulls out a buckle. I immediately recognize Reece’s work. Amara must have gotten with her to make him the buckle. “It says Army,” she says.
“It’s nice. I like this. How did you know I needed a good buckle?”
“I just thought you might like it,” she says, smiling. I’m smiling too. My sister has such a beautiful heart.
“Thank you,” he says before standing and attaching the buckle to his belt. “This is so dope.” He turns so I can see it and I have to agree. It’s really dope. “I hope you like your gift as much as I love this,” he says.
