“Yeah, at like two.” When my eyebrows fly up, he continues, “I, uh, didn’t hear anything from your room! I didn’t even know you were, uh, sleeping over, Mr. Dillinger.” He briefly glances at Skyler, and I look at my half-naked boyfriend gripping the loaf of bread like it’s a lifesaver.
“We were…watching a movie. Then fell asleep,” I attempt to say convincingly. “But two is pretty late. Your parents let you come by at that time on Christmas Eve?”
“Um, well…” His words trail off, and I think I know what this means. He has something private to tell me.
“Why don’t you let Skyler and me get dressed? You can eat breakfast, then we can chat.”
“Okay,” he replies.
“I can, um, go,” Skyler says.
“No, please,” I say. When Aisen swivels in the chair to look away, I take the loaf of bread and gently place everything in my hands on the counter. “It’s our first Christmas together. I want you here, just like we planned.”
The first of many, I pray. Skyler seems skeptical, but nods, and I guide him out of the kitchen.
Ten minutes later, I’m in my pajamas sitting across from Aisen in the kitchen. It’s a familiar feeling for the two of us, so familiar that I didn’t even notice his presence earlier. “So, uh, Merry Christmas,joka.”
“Merry Christmas. Where is Mr. Dillinger?”
“I asked him to give us a few minutes. So, what’s up?”
“Nothing.” He scratches his arm. “I wanted to visit. Is that wrong?”
“It is if you didn’t tell your parents.” He bristles, and I know I’m right. “They don’t know you’re here.”
“I texted them.” He leans on the table and sighs. “Not that they care.”
“What? I thought you were being homeschooled and performing for the maritime circus?”
“The circus sucks!” he blurts, leaning forward. “And my parents don’t even care about me.” He’s pouting, and my heart aches for him.
“Hey now, that’s not true,” I say.
“Yes, it is.” The kitchen is so silent as Aisen continues to curl up into himself, leaning on the table. “They only care about their shows. They don’t even notice when I don’t eat, or when my laundry doesn’t get done. I’m not learning anything for school, they just push books at me and don’t even check if I’m doing the work or not. And when my octopus form messes up the juggling routine, that’s when they get mad. I only got this form in October, I’m not gonna be good at using it! But they don’t wanna hear any of that.”
My face burns hot and my soul breaks all at once. I want to kick my brother for neglecting my nephew. “Aisen…”
“At least when you get on my case with homework, it’s because you want me to learn. They didn’t get me anything for Christmas. They ignore me when we have no shows. In fact, they don’t care about anything except my big octopus form.” He sits up and then slumps down to look at his lap.
“I thought they finally wanted to be my parents, but they don’t. I had a parent and that was…” His words trail off, but I think I know what he was going to say. He sniffs, and when a tear falls down, it finally breaks me.
My eyes sting, and I stand up to hug my nephew. I rub his arm up and down and say, “Hey, shh, it’ll be alright.”
“I’m not crying. Crying is for babies, and being sad is stupid.” Ah, teenage denial.
“I didn’t say it was stupid.” I let go and place my hand on his shoulder while he wipes his eyes. “Your parents do love you. In their weird way.”
“No, they don’t,” he retorts. When he looks up at me, it’s then that I realize his wide, dark eyes are just like my own. He inherited them from my brother, and we both got them from my parents. In a broken voice, he asks, “Can I move back in with you, Uncle Reed?”
The Sung family has been generations of not wanting to keep their kids close, but it ends now. “Only if you’re sure.”
He nods. “I’ve wanted to since Thanksgiving. I saw all those cool photos of you and Mr. Dillinger’s family. It made me miss all of our Thanksgivings and Christmases.”
I snicker. “I always burned the stuffing.”
“Burnt stuffing every year is better than no holiday at all,” he retorts.
We laugh and I can’t fight the urge to get up and hug him again, so I do. “I might not be the best parent in the world,” I say.
