Pierce comes barreling past me and lifts Kennedy into the air before twirling her around. “Oh my god, I’m so stoked you’re here. I barely remember ever being with you on Christmas. Best Christmas ever.”
As he sets her back on the ground, Kennedy gives him a genuine smile, something not often seen on her pretty face. “Of course. I think you’re going to like your gift,” she offers with a wiggle of her eyebrows.
He gives her a sheepish smile. “My gift is you being here.”
She bends down and kisses his cheek. Bends down because they’re both about the same height at just over six feet, but she’s in high-heeled boots, bringing her close to my height. Pierce not getting all my sizing has also been a source of anxiety for him since he always assumed he’d be as tall as me. He’s not even close and likely won’t be. It’s one of the many reasons I suggested his football career end after high school.
My heart does a little somersault in my chest at the sight of my kids loving each other so much. They need each other.
Kennedy steps inside, completely ignoring her mother's presence and instead focusing her attention on my tree. “Your tree is beautiful, Dad.”
I nod in agreement. “Your mom helped decorate it. She has a great eye for things like this. You both have such good eyes for all things fashion and design.”
Her face falls, and her lips tighten. “Oh. Well, I brought these two gifts to add.” She points to all the wrapped presents still sitting under the tree. “You didn’t have to wait for me to open those.”
“Our pleasure. It wouldn’t be the same without you,” I offer. It hasn’t been in many years. “Come,” I wave, “let’s have some hot chocolate as we open them. I got lots of extra marshmallows for you.”
Her face softens a drop. When she was a little girl, sneaking extra marshmallows into her hot chocolate behind Ginny’s back was our secret, fun little game.
Ginny tentatively approaches Kennedy. Physically, they look nothing alike, but they both truly do have an incredible sense of style. I’m hopeful it can be their common ground to eventually reconnect.
Ginny swallows nervously. “Merry Christ—”
Kennedy holds up her hand. “Don’t,” she spits out. “Speaking to me is a privilege. You do not have privileges. If you want me to stay, sit down and be quiet. I’m here for my brother.”
I sigh. This is not how I wanted it to go. I notice Pierce looking anxious. Shit.
“Hey, bud, why don’t you give Kennedy your gift? I know she’ll love it.”
His face lights up. “Sure thing, Dad.”
He bends under the tree until he locates it before standing and handing it to Kennedy. She thanks him as she opens it. Her eyes fill with tears when she sees what it is.
“I love it,” she croaks out. “Thank you so much. I know the perfect spot for it.”
It’s a framed photo of the two of them from Pierce’s senior night. It’s the moment he’s handing her the game ball with a huge grin on his face. You can perfectly see her uncharacteristically emotional reaction to it. Someone captured it and sent it to me. It was such a special moment during a special night, and I’m forever grateful we get to relive it. I only had about a hundred copies made. I doubt there’s a single photo of the two of them together from the past seven years, making this one all the more special.
She hands him a gift, and his chin drops when he opens it. “Bruh, are you freakin’ kidding me?”
“What is it?” I ask.
He holds up what looks like a plain white sweatshirt. “An Essentials hoodie, Dad. Everyone who’s anyone has this. You wouldn’t get it for me.”
I pinch my eyebrows together in confusion. “A sweatshirt? Of course I buy you clothes.”
Pierce and Kennedy smile at each other before he looks back at me. “I believe your exact words were,” he deepens his voice to mock me, “I will never pay a hundred and fifty dollars for a sweatshirt. I still buy my underwear in packs of twenty for ten dollars. You can get white Hanes sweatshirts for eleven dollars. I’ll get you one of those.”
Pierce and Kennedy laugh at my expense, but it’s music to my ears. I don’t love that she spoiled him any more than he already is, but they’re both happy, so I’m happy.
Kennedy and I thought alike because we got each other pickleball items. I got her the latest paddle and some more appropriate clothing, causing her to laugh, and she got me a bunch of funny pickleball T-shirts and mugs. I’ll proudly wear my “Big Dink Energy” and other silly shirts with pride, knowing they came from her.
There’s a bit of tension when I hand both her and Ginny gift certificates to the same high-end boutique in Philly, suggesting they use them together, but the worst part comes when the final gift is opened.
No one recognizes it. I’m half considering calling a bomb squad, but when Kennedy pulls a red flag out of it, she asks, “Was Daylen at your house recently?”
“Yes, he was,” I answer. “He said he was doing an old-person wellness check, but I did think it was odd. Why do you ask?”
She rolls her eyes. “This is definitely from him. I’ll…umm…open it later. It’s probably not…family-appropriate.”