“I thought this was ugly sweater?” I ask.
“Wait until you see Tyler,” Macey says matter of fact.
As if he’s summoned by her words, Tyler comes walking down the stairs. Arms spread wide in the Christmas onesie too small for his large body, he greets us, “Merry Fucking Christmas Family.”
“It gets worse every year.” Cole comes next to me and Macey.
Cole.Colehas an old green sweater on and duck taped a mirror to it. He literally duck taped a mirrorwith a handle to his sweater.
My laughing becomes uncontrollable, and it’s freeing, because I can’t remember the last time I laughed like this.
“It would be the two newbs who get a kick out of our bullshit.” Sam raises a glass and cheers.
“Sam! Seriously?” Tyler stands in hisChristmas threw up on me onesie.“You didn’t even slightly follow the theme.”
“Sorry, I must have missed the memo.” She sips her sparkling cider.
“Disappointed.” Tyler looks at his sister.
“I think she looks great.” Anthony chimes, some bell ringing somewhere on his body.
“You would,” Cole murmurs, leaving me and Macey to sit with Anthony in the doorway. Tyler comes to the entrance, kissing me and Macey on the foreheads and takes our coats.
“Nice sweater.” He smiles down at me.
“Definitely not compared to you.” I observe the onesie.
Smiling, he gives me a wink and makes his way back to the kitchen to check on the food.
“Disappointed,” He reiterates as he greets his sister.
Sam waives a hand and saunters to the living room.
And I’m right. Sam does have a tail on her ass.
After an indulging dinner, the family sits around the tree like giddy children on Christmas morning. Grown adults sitting criss-crossed anxiously waiting for their present.
“Okay, so Sunny had Cole.” Anthony reads off a paper that has all our names. Cole grabs the present, gently shaking it and putting an ear to it in hopes to know what’s inside.
“You know if you just open it, you will know what it is,” I playfully bite.
“Alright, alright. Let’s not get our panties in a bunch,” Cole says, tearing the wrapping paper.
I found the record player at an old antique shop by my apartment. I saw it and knew he’d love it. I bought a few records, too.
“I remember one night at Martha’s you said that it sometimes got a little too silent living alone. So, I figured this would help cure it just a little bit,” I say.
He stares at it for a moment, a slow roll of his throat tells methat he’s trying to conjure up words. When his hazels flick up to me, they say all the words I know he can’t say right now.
“Thank you, Sunny,” he says, the words slightly hoarse.
I smile, because sometimes words don’t need to be said. A comfortable silence settles until Anthony breaks it.
“Okay, okay, Sunny is the best gift giver. We get it,” he teases. “So, Tyler, you’re next and you had Sunny.” Anthony reads the list.
Of course. Naturally, Tyler would be my secret Santa because life said why not? Right?
He sits crisscrossed in his onesie, smiling boyishly at me as he pulls a box out. It’s interesting seeing all the different versions of Tyler. This version is rare.
