Tali
With maniacal glee,I ripped apart my first present
“Slow down, Natalia,” my mother scolded playfully. She knew me and was well aware I lost all my chill when it came to presents. And it was entirely her fault. She always went overboard at Christmas, stacking beautifully wrapped gifts all the way to the ceiling.
My gasp when I opened the box made my family laugh, but holy hell, my mom and dad had bought me white, platform, slip-on Doc Martens. I was going to look like a go-go dancer in them, and I absolutely couldn’t wait.
“Dad...I sense your hand in this gift.”
My dad grinned, his thick, salt-and-pepper mustache bristling. “Maybe. It’s been a while since you got a new pair of Docs, and these were calling your name.”
Not even bothering with the rest of my gifts, I slipped on my new boots, and modeled them for my parents and my three brothers, along with their wives and girlfriend. I had to look ultra-glamorous in my plaid pajama pants and University of Maryland T-shirt.
“You’re feeling yourself, aren’t you?” my oldest brother, Mike, asked.
Lifting up to my toes, I did a poor imitation of a ballerina twirl. “I am. I’ll be wearing these every day for the foreseeable future.”
My mom patted my back and gave my cheek a loud kiss. “And you’re not going to mope around here anymore? I can’t look at you for another five weeks with that sad sack expression on your face.”
I pushed the corners of my mouth up with my fingertips. “See this smile? Do I look like I’m moping?”
“Why’s Tali moping?” my brother Gio asked.
Dad rolled his eyes dramatically. “We think it’s a boy.”
“There’s no boy!” There was a boy, but I certainly wasn’t ready for Jude to become an open discussion with my parents. “Is it possible that coming home for a month and a half is sort of an adjustment and I might need a few days to find my feet again?”
That part was true. Going from feeling like an adult at school to being treated like the baby again had given me whiplash the first couple days back. But my parents had loosened their hold on me somewhat. I almost fainted when I went out to the local diner last night with high school friends and they hadn’t even mentioned a curfew.
“There’s always a boy,” my youngest and closest brother, Arturo, declared.
His girlfriend, Elise, smacked his arm. “But not with Tali. Sal is literally the only boy I’ve ever heard her mention.”
They’d been together since they were fourteen, and since Arturo was only a year older than me, I’d adopted Elise as my friend too. They were both all up in my business, but that was how our family worked. Secrets were rare and not kept for long.
He rubbed his chin, like he was some kind of philosopher mulling over a serious question. “You have a point.”
There had been plenty of boys, but none I’d thought about after stolen kisses in dark bars or endless, sweaty days at music festivals.
“There’s no point. I’m fine. I’m not moping. And I want to open my presents while it’s still Christmas.” I stuck out my tongue so he’d know I wasn’t mad at him, and he flipped me off so our parents wouldn’t see.
My parents and brothers loaded me with gift cards and college swag, plus cute slippers and fuzzy sweaters and a new coat. Then my mother plied us with so much food, it was almost shameful.
I wondered what Jude was doing. When I saw him the day I left for winter break, he’d told me he was going to Virginia for a day or two, but hadn’t wanted to talk about his family, and in that moment, all I could think about was how much I was going to miss his lips while I was gone.
I had asked him to wait but didn’t really believe he would. It wasn’t that I thought he was dishonest or untrustworthy—although trust wasn’t something I gave away freely. He was on his way to stardom—thatI didn’t doubt—and I was an uptight virgin who barely had time to breathe.
Or maybe telling myself that was a matter of self-preservation.
Before I went to sleep, I sat down at the child-size desk in my bedroom plastered with posters leftover from my nineties grunge obsession and trophies I’d won with the debate team, and checked my email on my six-year-old iMac. It turtle crawled, but I finally opened the email from the only person I wanted to hear from.
Hey Stripes,
Merry Xmas. Did your mom make lasagna?
It’s the fourth night of Hanukkah. My mom and I lit the candles, then she locked herself in her bedroom with a bottle of wine. I’m just sitting here in this cold castle, wondering why the hell I came here. I drove down with Ben, so I can’t even go back home yet. I actually might go stay with him and his functioning family.
Sooo...you still there, or did I freak you the hell out? Tell me about your day. Let me believe in nice things and people who love each other.