Page 55 of Money Shot

SIENNA

December 25th,2014

Christmas was so much more than a holiday for me. I was born on Christmas, my mother died on Christmas, and according to my belief, Jesus was born on the same day. After my father’s death, I made it a point to remember my father’s and my memories of the day by enjoying the music he graced me with when he gave me the special CD, and I did so on a daily basis.

I typically didn’t tell people when my birthday was, because if they knew about my mother’s death, it made the holiday and my birthday both seem sad. It wasn’t a sad day as far as I was concerned, and in fact, I considered it to be the best day ever.

In the last five years, the holiday had been a difficult one for me. Celebrating it with Vince and Anita would not only bring back so many fond memories, but would without a doubt develop new ones that we could spend a lifetime sharing together as a family.

“Open it,” I said as I pushed the gift in his direction.

“Don’t be jumping around, I want a clear picture,” Anita said.

“I’m not six years old, Mother. I’m not going to jump around like a fucking idiot,” Vince said.

Uh oh.

I widened my eyes and glanced in Anita’s direction. She pointed over her shoulder toward the kitchen, cleared her throat, and after not gathering Vince’s attention, did it again.

“The jar, Stephen,” she said.

He glanced in her direction, sighed, and stood. “It’s Christmas,” he said.

She pointed toward the kitchen and grinned. “All the more reason to be respectful.”

He lowered his head and began walking toward the kitchen slowly.

“Let me see it,” she said.

He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and removed a $1 bill. “Here,” he said as he waved it in the air.

She raised the camera and took a picture of him as he held the bill high in the air. After a minute, he returned to the room and sat down beside his gift.

Incapable of containing myself, I began to clap. “Open it, open it, open it.”

We had stayed all night at his mother’s home, and I was still wearing my pink pajamas. After hot chocolate, coffee, and his mother’s Christmas breakfast, the morning was just like I remembered it being with my father. There’s nothing on earth like waking up Christmas morning with the one you love.

He slowly peeled the wrapping from the package while his mother sat back and took pictures with her digital camera. After carefully pulling all of the paper away from the box, he turned toward me and scowled.

“Really?” he said sarcastically.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Sorry.”

“See this?” he said as he held the box in the air. It was covered in clear packing tape.

“Take a picture of this shit,” he said.

Uh oh.

He cussed again.

I glanced at Anita. She lowered the camera, cleared her throat, and glared. Without speaking, Vince stood, pulled a $1 bill from his wallet, and waved it in the air. After being photographed as he walked to the kitchen, he returned, sat down, and quietly began peeling the tape away from the box.

As he opened it I held my breath.

“Oh my god,” he said as he peered into the box.

I hope you like it.