“I know. But you've been really good this year. I had to step up in case Santa missed it," I said. Christmas was the perfect time to show my appreciation.
He stomped over and surveyed my work. “It’s uneven around the edges.”
I shrugged. “Yeah. I’m not an expert, but I couldn’t afford a snowblower, so I thought this was the next best thing. Now, you can relax.”
He scratched the side of his neck, his gaze flitting across the drive. “Okay.”
I laughed and pushed his arm. “Why are you being so weird about this? Is it bad? Did you want an upper body workout?”
“No. It’s just…” He huffed and turned to me, his ears reddening. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“I wasn’t expecting a gift.” We hadn’t gotten any 'fun' presents since we were thirteen.
He waved at the pavement. “But you did something big. Now, I feel like a total jackass.”
“You clear our driveway all the time,” I said.
“That’s different.”
Why? Because he was expected to do it? I leaned onto the shovel handle. “Listen, I got to enjoy Christmas for weeks. You deserve to enjoy it too.”
“Thank you.” He thinned his lips, his eyes shining with the reflection of morning snow.
He struggled with emotions, like most of my family. But he did comfort me when I was crying.
I gently punched his arm. “Hey, this gives you more time to sleep. Or write a hit song as an ode to your amazing family.”
“Ah, stop it.” He snatched the shovel. “I can’t believe you ambushed me with a present.”
“I’m sorry.” I grinned. “I thought it’d be a nice gesture.”
“It is. That’s what’s so annoying about it.” He stalked to the garage with me and stuffed the shovel beside the garbage bins. “It’s a lot of hard work.”
“I don’t mind. Well, sometimes. I’m going inside to get ready. Merry Christmas?” I held out my arms.
“Merry Christmas.” He gave me a begrudging hug, which was more than we shared most of the year. That counted as magic enough for me.
I went inside and showered to defrost my numbed, aching limbs. My skin got all red from the cold and the hot water. Oh well. At least it was on theme for the holiday. On my way to my room, the front door look rattled, then opened. I toweled off my wet hair and peered into the hall. “Where have you been?” I called.
Mom jumped, nearly dropping her coat on the floor instead of hanging it on the hook. “Donations. Helping your auntie.”
I narrowed my eyes. No way would she bebackthis early if she was helping our family. “Did you sleep here last night?”
“Of course I did, Shelby.” Aghast, she shooed me to my room, her fingertip wrapped in a flesh-covered bandage. “Dry your hair or you’ll get sick. I’ll make some tea.”
“I can do it," I said.
“Nonsense. I’m there already.” She hurried past me for the kettle.
It wasn’t worth offering again. For now, Mom could keep her mystery. We had things to do and people to see.
First, our family did shifts distributing meals to the needy. I smiled and served gravy as well as anybody.
Later, at Aunt April’s, I answered a million awkward questions about my last day of work and next steps for my future before being delegated to kid duty. They were getting antsy, so I put on the Nutcracker and had them make up ballet routines. I bent my knees, but couldn’t remember the name of the gesture. “What do you think? Should I call this move ‘climbing down the chimney?’”
A little cousin giggled and spun, then pointed at the screen. “Sugarplum…princess. That’s you, Shelby.”
“It was. Definitely.” I smiled at the sparkly magnificent tutu-dress on-screen. Part of me always would be.
