Page 3 of This December

“Okay. Hurry, please. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

I smiled wryly at the Christmas décor covering every available surface as I made my way to the powder room off the mudroom to wash my hands. In our family, the holiday started November first—screw Thanksgiving, thank you very much. The second the witch and ghost decorations got packed up, Christmas trees, wreaths, inflatable Santas, snowflakes, nutcrackers, and lights galore exploded and rained down their kitschy cheer on the James household.

My momlovedChristmas. There was a reason my first name was December.

As I climbed the stairs to the living room, conversations and Christmas music filtered down to me. A deep, mellow voice sang about the most beautiful time of year.

“…still delivering groceries?” my sister, Belle, asked.

“She hasn’t heard back from any of the places she’s applied?” Aspyn asked after a pause.

“It’s the holidays, guys.” my third sister, Chrissy, protested as I stood unseen a few steps down the stairs. “You know most businesses don’t hire until after the new year.”

“Considering she got canned in October, that doesn’t say much about her prospects,” Aspyn retorted.

I closed my eyes and let my head fall against the wall next to me. Nothing like feeling so small for the holidays. Thank you very much, Aspyn.

“You gotta give the kid a break,” Aspyn’s husband, Matt, said. “She’s still figuring things out.”

“She’s not a baby anymore. She’s twenty-six,” Aspyn cried. “She’ll keep acting like a clueless kid as long as you all treat her like one. At her age, I was married with a baby on the way.”

“Not everyone has the good fortune to meet an awesome guy like me,” Matt drawled.

The conversation fell back into softer rumbles that I couldn’t hear from my perch.

But I’d heard enough.

I was a screw-up and always would be in my family’s eyes.

It didn’t matter that I’d been laid off from my job in marketing at a tech start up. It wasn’t even my fault. Cutbacks meant that the last hired was the first fired.

Would a screw-up finish their degree even though every class slowly killed the joy in my life? Would a screw-up get a job in said industry to pay off their student loans? Even though going into the office every day felt akin to a slow march toward death?

Chrissy’s sweet face popped into view as she walked toward me. She gave me a wonky smile. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough.” I looked away, tears sheening my gaze. Tears I was ashamed of. “I’m not really hungry. I think I’ll head upstairs and poke around some job postings.”

“Come have dinner. Don’t let the fact that Aspyn has her head up her ass drive you away from Mom’s awesome roast. Come on. I’m starving.”

I chuckled, swiped at my eyes, and let my sister pull me toward the kitchen where Mom’s amazing spread was all laid out. And where my sisters, M & M & M (my nickname for their husbands, Matt, Michael, and Myles) and our parents were sitting around the table.

“There she is!” my dad exclaimed like I was returning from war. It was impossible not to smile as his love washed over me. My dad was amazing.

“Hey, Dad. How was your day?” I asked as I took my seat at the end near him.

“Just another day in paradise—towing clueless city boys out of snowbanks. I love this time of year.”

I laughed. He had to love it, considering how much my mom loved it too. I always wondered if he even weighed in on our names. How many men would pick out the names Aspyn, Belle, Chrissy, and December? We all knew he was whipped. And he loved it.

Because he loved Mom and ussomuch.

I smiled at the sight of them holding hands under the table. Like it was a guilty secret. My parents were couple’s goals.

Between their gooey love and my three sisters’ marriages, I’d always been the one left out. It hadn’t bothered me much in San Jose. But then again, it hadn’t been rubbed in my face on a daily basis there.

Damn, I was a sad sack. This day just kept kicking me in the nuts. Fun times.

I gave my dad a wan smile, accepted the platter of roast beef from him, and forked some on my plate. Looking around the table, the lack of chaos finally hit me. “Where are the rugrats?”

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