Page 3 of Back Home For Christmas

“That’s great, mom. Maybe we can make a little shrine to it at the shop,” I said. I started walking past them, only to be stopped by her gasp.

“Absolutely not, Catherine. You have to wear it!” She said.

“It is tradition,” Dad said with a shrug. I had intentions of grilling my family the second I walked in the door about why in hell Jay Crowely had been casually having a morning cup of coffee in our kitchen, but it was clearly too late. They were lost to the Christmas boxes and apparently had visions of reliving my youth with a pathetic fashion show.

“What tradition?” I asked.

“Wearing it when you work in the shop,” dad said. Dad looked like a round teddy bear of a man, and most of the times he was, unless he felt overwhelmed, which happened with some regularity. Then he would bite your head clear off your shoulders if you breathed too loud. Sometimes I thought Darren took after him, but it was hard to tell because he hadn’t faced a single hardship in his life, so it was anyone’s guess how he would react to stress.

“I’m not working at the shop,” I said. Darren let out a guffaw that left me rolling my eyes. He sat on the edge of the armchair opposite mom rifling through his own box. “What?” I asked. “Oh, and it’s nice to see you too, by the way.” I had been trying to move away from my default sarcasm as of late. It didn’t go over well in the professional world, and I thought it made me sound childish, but what can I say? My brother brought out the best in me. I hadn’t seen him in years, since he never visited me, and I never visited home, and he hadn’t even greeted me. Granted, my mom could really dominate a room, but still. A hello would have been nice.

He stood then, tiptoeing carefully around the Christmas explosion, finding bare spots of hardwood to place his feet until he stood in front of me. He pulled me into a tight hug.

“Good to see you, sis,” he said.

“Same,” I said, with my mouth in a tight line. “You want to tell me about Jay?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, my mother was snapping a picture on her phone, then shoving the smock into my hands.

“Put it on, Cat!” she said. I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t getting out of this, so I grabbed the smock, pulled it over my head, and held out my arms.

“There, you happy?”

“Oh! It looks great!” Mom said, tears making her voice catch with emotion. She held up her phone and took at least ten more pictures of me, that probably all looked exactly the same. “It will be so nice to have you back in the shop.”

“Slow down,” I said, holding up my hands. I wasn’t used to the rapid-fire chaos of my family. “One, I am not working in the shop. Two, why was Jay Crowely here this morning?”

“Don’t be silly, of course you’ll work in the shop,” mom said waving her hand dismissively.

“Jay’s staying with us for the holidays like he always does,” dad said, in his usual oblivious way. Darren had the sense to look down at his hands sheepishly when I turned my glare on him.

I took a deep breath.

“Hey Catherine!” Dad said. My parents weren’t big on respecting nicknames. I turned to look at him. “Look what your mom and I found. We’re gonna sell it in the shop.” He held what looked like a bubble gun or something, but when he shot it in my direction, a strong puff of air and a loud crack sent little red, green, and silver paper confetti and glitter blasting over my entire body.

“Don, come on, now. Who’s gonna vacuum that up?” Mom asked, as if she wasn’t at all concerned with the fact that I had just been glittered bombed. Darren was giggling at my side while dad just smiled like he had won the goddamn lottery.

“Who is going to buy that?” I asked.

“Wow, you’re really getting in the Christmas spirit,” I heard Jay’s voice before I could see him. When I turned, he smiled and laughed. For all the time I had ever known him, Jay had only ever laughed if it was at my expense. He stood behind me now, changed out of his pajama pants into jeans and exchanged his too tight pajama shirt with a too tight white t-shirt that perfectly highlighted his biceps, not that I noticed.

My life was like one of those sitcoms that I had to watch from behind my fingers or on fast forward or else I might simply die of secondhand embarrassment. Only I couldn’t look away and the embarrassment was all mine. How I found myself back here at twenty-two was beyond me. Maybe it was just my destiny to be the butt of everyone’s jokes.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I said, spitting out little pieces of colored paper. I would have to get both my brother and my mother alone to discuss the Jay situation and the shop situation, respectively. But for now, I had to get out of there as quickly as possible. It wasn’t until I was out of the room that I realized I was still wearing the stupid smock that made me look like a rectangular Christmas gift. How did Jay always look like he stepped off the cover of GQ and I always looked like I had climbed out of a dark cave? It was insult to injury.

Chapter Four

In the bathroom, I let the shower run until the steam fogged up the mirror. I carefully pulled off the smock and the tank top underneath to keep as much of the glitter out of my hair as possible. I’m sure I would still find stray pieces months from now. The exhaustion of being around my family was creeping in faster than I had hoped. I studied myself in the mirror, silently trying to reaffirm my confidence and self-worth in the face of the demoralizing effects of my family. As family went, they weren’t bad. I knew my parents loved me in their own way. I always had a good home and stability. But I lacked the support and unwavering acceptance that my brother got.

I tried to tell my reflection that I was more than the butt of their jokes, but it didn’t ring true, especially when I looked like a clown covered in Christmas garbage. To make it worse, positive affirmations didn’t help much to bolster my confidence when my life was days away from falling into ruin. If I didn’t get my essay finished, I was stuck in Cape Shore until I figured out what the hell else to do with my life. It was the stupidest obstacle. I had gotten through so much worse, but somehow my mental block kept me from writing much of anything. I would be stuck in my parents' home, working at the shop until I came up with Plan B. It made me feel stupid for not having a Plan B in the first place. Although, I was probably already on plan C after the art school scholarship didn’t happen.

“Get it together, Cat,” I said, poking my finger into my reflection. “Don’t fall apart.” It was far too early to fall apart. I didn’t know how, but I knew there was worse to come that I would need to withstand.

I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run over me. When I got out, I felt a little better at least. I recommitted to not letting anyone get into my head. I wasn’t a child anymore. I was an adult, even if I had to change course again.

I stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a little green and red towel that mom loved so much, not for their utility at covering my body, but for how cute they looked hanging in the bathroom. My eyes were turned down as I tried to pull the fabric tighter, when I bumped chest first into Jay.

I looked up, face flushed, too stunned to speak as he towered over me, his broad chest filling my field of vision. I realized as we stood mere inches apart that I had never been that close to Jay Crowely before in my life. I felt like it gave me a new perspective, one that I hadn’t been clamoring to have. Jenna’s “smoke show” comment came to mind as I wondered how his tight t-shirt held together over his well-defined shoulders and biceps without tearing apart like the hulk. The scent of pine needles mixed with eucalyptus to fill my nose as I breathed deeply of his scent, entirely by accident, of course. Although it still left me a little light-headed and breathless. I’m sure that combination of manly fragrances had a powerful impact on most women. Not me, of course. He would have to do a lot more than smell nice to sway me. I realized my eyes roamed his body for far too long as I tried to pull my gaze away from his stupid muscles no one wanted to look at.

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