Adopted By The Wrong Number: Part 4: Chris Evans Fanfic

Chapter 70- Christmas

Ah yes Christmas. We are going over to Grandma's house for this one. Mike said he was good for this, he said he would risk an awkward Christmas or a tension filled Christmas, but he wants to spend it with his family.

So what happened, my dad is getting back today in the morning. It is currently Christmas eve, and my dad is going to be staying until January 2nd. So I got him back for a week, and 2 days. I picked him and Scott from the airport.

"This is so weird."

"What is?"

"Your daughter is the one driving us home. You do comprehend that right?"

"My little girl is growing up, and I hate it, but I can't stop it, so imma direct her in the right path."

"I like how you guys are talking as if I'm deaf."

When we got to the house, my dad unpacked some of his stuff, and put other things in the washer. I made some breakfast, and afterwards we all slept a little while longer. Same as the years before, it was pajamas.

Although now all my pajamas consist of shorts and a long sleeve. I mean we're going to be inside the entire day. It's fucking freezing. I actually had to get dressed, because I got dressed to go to the airport, so I had to go back to pajamas.

I wore black pajama shorts, with an old thermal shirt my dad gave to me. More specifically threw at me because I kept stealing it so he caved, and now it's mine. In the Christmas spirit I wore fuzzy socks and red converse.

I also made sure to take a sweater. We made our way to grandmas and we were not the first ones. I was greeted by my little cousins. I said hi to everyone and then Stella looked me up and down.

"Why aren't you wearing pants?"

"Well I like sleeping with a lot of blankets so I sleep with shorts and a long sleeve, that way I could still be cold and have blankets. So this is my pajamas."

"Mom, why couldn't I bring shorts?"

Carly just smiled, and tried to secretly wave to my dad. To which they talked and then when they came back he just looked like he heard something he didn't want to.

He came over to me. "I really don't care what you wear, you know that right?"

"Yeah and if you do it's because I'm really out of line, but I'm usually not."

"Okay good I was just making sure."

I swear to go if someone had a problem because I wasn't in the spirit enough and because I was wearing shorts I will drive home right now. I mean would've worn sweats but my dad said actually pajamas.

I don't even care. Ya know what's weird for the first 10 years of my life I celebrated on Christmas eve. Then for 3 years I didn't celebrate at all. Then since 2018, I've celebrated again, but this time actually on Christmas.

I'm so glad now though. At least I celebrate Christmas. During the not so great time period, I would celebrate if I didn't get hit. That would be my gift, and to me that was an amazing gift. Although of course the next day it went worse for me.

I guess I seemed really zoned out because then my dad kinda shook me a bit. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"I was thinking about Christmas with my Aunt."

"Oh. I don't imagine that went well."

"My gift used to be not getting hit."

My dad just gave me a hug. I wasn't crying or anything. But I think it concerned him more when I said these types of things in a carefree manner. Like as if it was casual. None of our other family was around us at the moment so no one heard.

That night was just us all watching movies in the living room, until the kids fell asleep. I didn't, so I helped the adults put the presents under the tree. Aunt Shanna started talking to me. "Hope when did you discover the truth?"

"When I was seven. My dad told me."

"I'm assuming that didn't go well with your mom?"

"Not at all. She loved the whole Christmas thing."

One thing about family is that both me and my dad think it's good if most of them don't actually know what is going on in my life or what has gone on. Scott knows of course, and grandma but those are the only people.

Afterwards I went back to my original spot and fell asleep. Then the kids woke me up, and I had to act as if a fat white man broke into our house, and gave us gifts.

It was funny. Then my dad handed me one with my name. I just looked at him weird. I thought no presents because for one he hasn't even been in Boston. I mean it's not like I could just ask him. I'll ask him later.

It was a guitar pick necklace, but it was engraved. 'I couldn't have picked a better daughter.'

YALL I cried. This was like one of those cringey but like amazing gifts. Uh I hate this whole Santa thing. I went to my dad's old room, and he followed me. I hugged him. "Thank you dad. Over here making me cry."

He was crying too. I was genuinely so freaking happy. After everything shitty that happened with my biological father, I know that my true dad, always had my back and always will. I like how he got the pick, mostly because the guitar was one of the very first things he gifted me.

I remember, and I know he panicked over what to get me. "I'm so happy to have you in my life, and have these moments with you. I'm so happy you got the wrong number, because now I have this wonderful almost women in my life that I know could do amazing things."

"I'm really happy I got the wrong number too dad."

Yeah we sorta just cried, happy tears, very happy tears. After that we returned back to our family, and the rest of the day was filled with the kids playing with whatever they got. After dinner and everything.

When me and my dad did get home I questioned him. "Dad, when did you have time to get the necklace?"

"Oh I didn't get it, you're grandma did. I just picked it out and wrote what was engraved."

"Oh okay, that makes sense."

"Alright. Goodnight, love you pumpkin."

"Love you too dad. Goodnight."