He hadn’t visited since the funeral, but whatever.
By late afternoon, it was just funny. And the thing was, I hadn’t even tried talking to Reese. Every time I opened my mouth, it was to say something casual. Something of no meaning or importance. Like, we should watch Braveheart soon since we’d been too tired last night. Like, I talked to Nana; she wanted to say hi before she got on the cruise ship. Like, we needed more ketchup.
I wasn’t gonna hound him. He’d come to me when he was ready.
My brother might be reckless and impulsive at times, but he wasn’t stupid. If he wasn’t feelin’ something, he wouldn’t go through with it. That was why I wasn’t too worried about his “date” tonight. He was grasping for something, and as soon as he saw it wasn’t what he was looking for, he’d drop it like a hot potato. And what he wanted wasn’t fucking Brian at the gas station.
At six, I heated up two ramen cups and brought them to the couch. While I waited for the noodles to soak up the water, I flipped through some ads and catalogues in hopes I’d get inspired about what to get Reese for Christmas. The plan was to step out tomorrow morning to buy something. His car back home needed a new stereo. He also needed to get the rust taken care of…
I forked up some noodles and blew on them as Reese came out from our room.
“Why are you eating that shit?” he asked me irritably. “I was just gonna make my mac and cheese and bacon casserole.”
“There’s room for that too.” I patted my stomach, then slurped some noodles into my mouth.
He made a face of disgust and continued into the kitchen.
I shook my head. There was nothing wrong with noodles.
Granted, I preferred my brother’s cooking. He’d inherited his skills from both Ma and Nana. Or so I willed myself to believe. Because I was fucking useless in the kitchen, and I hadn’t seen Reese practice. It was like he woke up old enough one day and suddenly knew how to cook.
Reese abandoned the stove when the phone rang, and he picked it up. “Reese Tenley.” He paused. “Hey.” By his tone alone, I figured it was Pop. “Yup, all good. Storm’s pretty much passed now. The landing was a little bumpy, but that’s about it.” He drew the cord around his finger and turned to me with his eyebrows raised.
“What?” I asked.
He responded to Pop first. “Yeah, no, we get it.”
Oh, what a shocker. Pop wasn’t coming home on the 24th.
I was done pretending about this whole family charade. I wasn’t coming next year.
To be honest, Pop extending his work trip was a relief, though I wasn’t sure my brother felt the same way. His face fell a little when Pop said something, and it put me on edge. All Reese had done in our family was try to keep us together—at least before. In the last few years, he’d started giving up too.
“No, that makes sense,” he replied. “Don’t worry about it. We haven’t gotten you anything yet either.”
I frowned.
Reese had picked up a Willie Nelson CD collection for Pop before we flew out.
“Yeah, sure. See you then. I’ll tell him.” Reese hung up the phone and went back to the stove. “He’ll be home on the 29th instead, and we’re no longer exchanging gifts because we’re adults now.”
Aw, man. I wanted to kick Pop’s ass.
Reese had always liked celebrating holidays, and no one in our family—including me—had given him any memories worth reliving since we were kids. I guess Nana was the exception. She did it up big for Easter and Thanksgiving.
Time for me to step up.
* * *
“You don’t need Pop’s truck for your date, right?” I left our room and zipped up my jacket.
Reese was on the couch, killing time with a magazine before he had to get ready. Brian would be here in half an hour.
“Nope.” He was still down in the dumps from before. “Where’re you going? To the pool?”
I shook my head and put on my beanie. “Changed my mind. I just don’t wanna be here when Brian comes over.”
I was exaggerating that one a bit; Brian had been annoying at the most, but whatever. The excuse worked for me, and it would get me out of the house.
“Does it bother you that I’m going out with him?” Reese asked point-blank.
It bothered me a great fucking deal, and there was even some jealousy mixed in there. Mostly because of the slight risk that something might actually happen between them. It depended on how stubborn Reese was gonna be tonight.
“You do whatever you want, Reese.” I stuck my feet into my boots and snatched the key to Pop’s truck. “I won’t wait up.”
He snorted. “We both know that’s a lie.”
Ouch, that one slashed right through me. I shot him a glare before I went out the door.
“River!” I heard him call. “Fuck, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it like that!”
Yes, he did. Motherfucker. No one wished I could sleep without him more than me.
I locked the door behind me and wasted no time getting into the truck and pulling out of the driveway.
On my way to Walmart, he paged me three times, and I ignored it. We could solve our shit later. I didn’t want my mood to get any worse, and it always got worse before it got better.
Fucking hell. I’d expected the parking lot to be empty at this hour. Who went shopping this late?
After parking as close to the exit as possible, I hurried toward the entrance and prayed this would be a painless experience. The storm had faded, but the weather still sucked, and I feared shopping for Christmas shit would be just as bad. Because what the hell did I know about decorating for Christmas?
Grabbing a cart, I racked my brain for how the house had looked when we were younger. Ma had sent Pop to get a tree, and there’d been boxes of decorations. Too bad he’d thrown all that crap out after she died. I could’ve used some now.
I could focus on one room, I decided. The living room. It wouldn’t make a huge dent in my bank account either.
I started in the dollar section, where I was hardly alone, and I threw some knickknacks into the cart. Santa figurines, a snow globe, a Christmas garland, and ornaments. Then I moved on to the fake trees and found a smaller, three-foot-tall tree for twenty bucks that I could put on the coffee table. It wasn’t so small that it would look pointless to someone who loved the holidays; some gifts would even fit underneath it.
I slowed down as I passed a bin with a bunch of stockings.
I chewed on my lip.
Ma had filled stockings for us, I remembered. We actually had a fireplace in the living room, though I couldn’t recall it’d ever been used. It was hidden away in the corner behind the dining room table. I was fairly sure the architect of the house thought the inhabitants would decorate the room with the furniture aimed at the fireplace.
If I moved the dining room table closer to the couch and Pop’s chair, I could turn the fireplace into a winter wonderland for my brother.
I grabbed two stockings before I went on to the electronics department. At least Reese was easy to buy gifts for. He used his Walkman all the time and bought CDs every week. I picked up some batteries for his stocking, some cheap CDs for regular gifts, and a new pair of headphones.