“Here it comes,” he said.
That’s when Tim started delivering presents tome. Luckily, other Westmores were still unwrapping their gifts, both from each other and from Santa, so I was able to hide behind the flurry of wrapping paper while I unwrapped some for myself.
A sweater, white, cabled, Irish, from Mr. and Mrs. Westmore.
A blue cashmere scarf from Lottie and her hubby, Pete.
A book about skiing from Not-So-Tiny Tim.
He shrugged at me as if to apologize for the hasty gift, but I’ll wager the gift shop at the hotel had been all that’d been open, plus the selection had probably been limited, so I gave him the thumbs up and said, “I’ve always wanted to learn more about skiing! Thanks, Tim.”
“This is from me and Baby Ginny,” said Alex. He held out two slender boxes. The first one held soft leather gloves, and the second one held puffy insulated gloves.
“It’s so lame,” he said, blushing hard. “But that’s all they had left that I thought you’d like. And you needed gloves. Your hands were freezing from the moment I met you.”
“Thank you,” I said, drawing out a glove from each box and putting them on, leather on the left, puffy and soft on the right. “I’ve kind of always gone without gloves, so I forget they exist.”
That had come out of my big mouth rather loud, and every single Westmore heard me. Their expressions were kind, but not pitying, thank fuck, cause I would have run out of the room if I thought they felt sorry for me. But no, they acted like Alex had solved a problem for me and now we could all move on.
Then Alex’s phone rang and though Mrs. Alex’s Mom looked rather stern and started to say something about it being Christmas morning, Alex answered. He got up and went to the doorway and stood there with his back to us, talking intently.
“Sure, Mr. Shimizu, I’ll be there. We’ll get the New Year started off right and get all the paperwork signed.”
When he turned to us, his cell phone was clasped in his hands like a prayer book. (Not that I’ve ever held one, it’s just something I’ve seen in movies.)
“Tell me you’re not going,” said Jasmine. She had a scarf around her neck, a warm, soft red, but even still, she was not someone I’d be willing to cross, and yet here, brave Alex was doing just that.
“In a few days, Mom,” he said. “Just for a week or so.”
“It’s that important, son?” asked Nate.
“This is the last hurdle to that fabulous location in downtown Tokyo,” said Alex. Before I had time to think about how soon we’d be separated, he turned to me and asked, “And maybe Beck would like to come with me?”
“Me with you?” I asked. I was shocked and didn’t have time to hide it so I could be cool Bad Boy Beck and act like I did not not give a shit about what anyone was doing. Or the fact that I’d been invited to go with him to Japan. “I don’t have a passport.”
“Is that your only objection?” Alex asked me, looking at me in a way that told me he was focused to the point of blocking out everything else in that room. That he’d wait an eternity for me to answer. Maybe longer. That he really wanted me to go with him.
“Yep,” I said, confident in that, at least, though I was less confident in anything else. Passports take weeks to get. Didn’t they?
“Have Beck fill out the online form, Alex,” said Nate. “I’ll call down to the CBP and get it rushed through.”
“You can use my computer,” said Tim.
“Thank goodness that’s settled,” said Lottie as she stood up with Baby Ginny in her arms and went over to him. “Tokyo is great and all, but it can be lonely if you travel there alone.”
“I’ve been there half a dozen times,” said Alex in a sibling-to-sibling tone. “I am a CEO in the company, you know.”
“Yes, yes, we all know,” said Lottie, and she saved it from being a mean tease with a smile and a kiss to his cheek. Then she looked at me so sweetly and asked me, “Would you like to say hello to Baby Ginny?”
This was a test. Of course it was. I knew that as I got up and went over to them. It was a test to see how I reacted to a blob of flesh with zero personality, and also one that drooled.
Except Baby Ginny drooled only a little bit, and as she squirmed cutely in her mother’s arms, she smiled at me, her eyes as bright as starlight, with a shine in them that must be only seen in a baby’s eyes. She was dressed simply, in a white shift of some kind, wrapped in a soft pink blanket, and she had a pink ribbon on her nearly bald head.
“Do you want to hold her?” asked Alex. His voice came as if from far away, and I (finally) got the feeling that none of this was a challenge or a test. They just wanted me to say hello. So I did.
“Hell, no,” I said as I touched the tiny little hand with its miniature fingers. Then I said, as softly as I could, “Hello, Baby Ginny. When you get older, I can tell you about how I rescued your Uncle Alex from certain death.”
“Oh, my,” said Lottie. She pulled Baby Ginny away from me, and then laughed a little, and resettled the tiny thing in her arms.
