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"It's been a bit… exciting around here," Jakob explained, a rueful grin teasing at his lips. "And Pearl won't be putting soft-shelled crabs on the menu until spring; March or April, usually."
"She still open?" Ethan asked, looking surprised and not just a little wistful. "I remember she used to serve up the best gumbo…"
"We should go for lunch tomorrow," Cassie's mom suggested. "It's been a while since I've been by, and she makes the most amazing beignets I've had outside of New Orleans. Plus, I like her oyster po' boys better than the crab, anyway."
"Nooo," Cassie mock-wailed, the effect rather overridden by her laughter. "Such sacrilege, and from my own mother! What utter betrayal!"
Alex grinned at their antics, feeling like something was unfurling in his chest he hadn't realized was tucked so tightly away. He chewed his lip, wondering if he could paint this moment; the warm glow of the room, the grins on everyone's faces, the splashes of color from the bits of gift wrap debris strewn everywhere, all bathed in the blinking lights of the Christmas tree.
There wasn't any way to capture the laughter though, the Christmas music playing softly in the background. How could paint convey Cassie's movements as she told a story using her vaquera to illustrate the tale; jumping the little figurine high over some obstacle as her parents —allof her parents, and her Grampy too — watched her with a soft look on their faces?
It was a damn sight better than the cold Christmases he'd had the last few years. The ones his dad made such an effort to ignore; volunteering for the holiday shifts, before coming home and falling right into the bottle.
Alex wasn't sure, but he knew he didn't want to forget this moment either. He might not know what the future had in store for him, or even where he'd be this time next year, but…
He had this, at least. Now. Today. He would drink it in and hold it close, and maybe… Maybe it could be enough to see him through whatever was to come after.
"Jakob," Frank said softly, so low Alex almost didn't hear.
Almost.
But he did, and Jakob did too; looking up to follow his stepfather's gaze, a wide grin abruptly splitting his face as he spotted whatever it was he was searching for.
"Nearly forgot something," he announced, attention turning Alex's way. "Alex, there's two more presents under the tree, there in the very back. Get them for me, would you?"
"Um, sure thing," Alex said, suddenly feeling all the eyes in the room on him.
The reactions to his gifts had been… well, pretty overwhelming, really. He wouldn't mind a minute or two in his own head to just… process that; rather than getting artificial pine bits up his nose and in his hair. But it's not like it was easy for Jakob to reach all the back here under the tree, was it? Not with that knee of his.
"Got 'em!" Alex finally said, snagging both boxes and pulling himself out from underneath the tree.
"They were bothreallywedged under there," he told Cassie, sitting back on his heels. "No wonder we missed them earlier."
"Who are they for?" she asked in a tone so innocently sweet that Alex immediately narrowed his eyes, quickly searching each of the gifts for a tag.
"Um… me?" he answered her, unsure. "There's no 'From' name though…"
"Who cares?" Frank chuckled. "Open it Seagull. Don't keep us all waiting."
"I, uh… Okay?" Alex weighed both boxes, feeling the heat flushing up his neck from all the scrutiny.
"Green box first," Jakob told him, his voice sure and low as he nodded at the flat rectangular box in Alex's right hand.
With a jerky sort of nod, Alex tucked the smaller box wrapped in sparkly gold paper under his arm, before carefully opening the present Jakob had indicated.
It felt like the entire room was holding its collective breath as he pulled the red ribbon free and tore through the green paper patterned with tangoing polar bears. The box inside took him a moment; one of those kind that fit into the other, but with a stubborn bit of tape that refused to come away in one piece. He ended up slicing it with the side of his thumbnail, opening it to reveal —
Alex swallowed, looking up at a beaming Jakob, then at Cassie and — and Frank and —
"Go on then," Reed whispered. "Show us what you got."
It… was truly hideous, really. Something no one with eyes could possibly look at and think 'Oh, yes — I simplymusthave that on my mantle.'
Somewhere in the glued-on array of googly eyes and glittery metallic pipe cleaners, amidst the tiny bells and beribboned fringe and fuzzy, fluffy balls; someone had written his name in big block letters with neon yellow puff paint, right at the very top.
It was a stocking.
It was a stocking that looked like a craft store barfed on it.
