Changing Seasons

Fifty-Six

****

The family disembarked on their separate ways after the gifts had been exchanged. Linda helped Atira gather up leftovers and presents, "Text me when you find out what the issue is," she whispered, looking over her shoulder to make sure Krist wasn't paying attention.

Atira nodded, "Will do."

The two women spoke briefly as Krist strapped Rocco into his seat, embraced, and said their goodbyes.

The drive from Linda's to Krist's wasn't long enough to bring up the tension that had filled Christmas Eve dinner. Atira hadn't felt comfortable bringing it up with Rocco in earshot.

Krist was slouched in the passenger seat of the Subaru, his seat reclined, eyes bloodshot and low.

"Did you have a good time, love?" She asked, resting her palm on his leg.

He nodded, "Yeah, it was nice. Food was bomb as fuck. I'm not gonna lie. I'm probably gonna smash another plate when we get home," Krist chuckled.

Atira glanced in the rearview mirror, "What about you, Roc? Did you have fun?"

Rocco nodded, "Yeah," he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and yawning.

The drive was quiet; Rocco was tired, and Krist was baked. Atira pulled into the parking lot.

"We're home," Rocco announced, his typical enthusiasm lacking with fatigue.

The three of them unloaded and trudged to the apartment. Krist sent Rocco to bathe before helping himself to a plate of food while Atira put away gifts and leftovers.

When Rocco had emerged from the bathroom, they set out a plate of cookies for Santa and lettuce for his reindeer. "You think Santa will eat all those?" Rocco asked, eyeballing the plate.

"Heck yeah, Santa's a hungry guy, bro!" Krist told him, nudging him towards his bedroom. Of course, Santa would eat them. He'd spent Christmas Eve smoking weed. No doubt his hungry ass would be getting down on some cookies.

Together, they tucked him into bed, Jacques curling up beside Rocco's head. Because it was Christmas Eve, he was allowed as many bedtime stories as he wanted. Six in total.

"Night, bud, I love you," Krist told him, kissing his forehead.

"Love you, Dad," he smiled sweetly, closing his blue eyes.

"Merry Christmas, Rocco," Atira whispered.

"Night." His voice trailed off as he fell asleep.

Quietly, the pair left his bedroom, flicking the light off and closing the door behind them.

"You want to shower?" Atira asked him, throwing her arms around his neck, her body pressed against his.

His hands groped her ass, pressing her pelvis firmly into his, "Hell yeah, I do," he kissed her deeply.

****

Atira sat on the bed dressed in a festive pajama set, wrapping gifts while Krist stepped out to smoke. She was anxious to ask him why he was extra hostile towards Brad that night, but she had assured Linda she would get to the bottom of things.

Krist returned, looking mellow from the weed and shower sex. He stripped off his sweatshirt, wearing only a pair of gray sweats that sat low on his hips. Atira liked to tease him that he was no longer allowed to wear his sweats in public because they were too provocative, and she didn't need other women checking out the junk. "Baby, you know there ain't much to look at," he had replied with a flirtatious grin. That man knows damn well that is a lie, she had thought to herself with a smile.

"Dressed in your lingerie, I see," Atira grinned, a piece of tape stuck to her bottom lip as she folded the corners of the wrapping paper. Krist cocked his head, eyebrow raised. "You got your hoe pants on," she nodded, "Your sweats, babe."

He leaned down to kiss her, "Gotta remind you of what I'm working with," he raised his eyebrows a few times and laughed.

"Oh my god, Krist," She covered her mouth in a fit of laughter. He clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, pinning her down on the bed playfully, wrists at her sides. "I got to get these packages wrapped," Atira swatted at him. His eyes twinkled. He was absolutely going to make a package joke. "Krist, don't even! I already know what you are going to say. I really got to get these wrapped before we go to bed."

He let out an exaggerated groan, "Fine," he pouted, kissing her deeply. "I'll let you get back to wrapping your packages, even though that is so boring. I still love you, though." Atira let him kiss her again before lightly biting his bottom lip.

"Alright, back to wrapping," she told him sternly.

Krist stood, grinning at her, and raised his eyebrows again, his eyes meeting hers before looking down. She followed his gaze downward, a smile spreading across her face. "Oh my god, you're so bad," she giggled.

He adjusted himself, "Told you, I gotta remind you of what I'm working with," he teased, lying on the bed.

"Babe, I need to ask you something," Atira said, her voice becoming serious.

"What's up?" He asked her, examining the gifts that were already wrapped.

"Hand me a bow first," she told him. Krist fished around the bag of bows, selecting a shiny red one. "Thank you, love," she flipped the bow over, peeling back the bottom so the sticky side was exposed, and placed it on the upper right corner of one of Rocco's gifts.

Krist ran his fingers over the package, "Very nice, babe. You're gonna have to show me how to wrap presents because my shit comes out lookin' like Rocco did it," he laughed to himself. "Last year, I tried to tell my mom that Rocco helped wrap presents because it looked hella bad. That fool straight told on me and said, 'he's lying, Grandma.' Psh, why you gotta tell my mom, bro. C'mon."

Atira ran her fingernails lightly down Krist's spine, watching his skin jump. "Your..." She began, hesitant to use the term stab wound, "You look like you're healed up."

Krist rested his head on his forearms, his eyes half-closed, "It doesn't look too bad," he agreed. "I just need to get the staples out of my head, and then I'll be good as new."

Atira continued to run her nails up and down Krist's spine, "Anyway, I needed to ask you. What was up with Brad tonight?"

His eyes popped open, "Okay, so it was obvious, right?" He sat up with a bolt, turning to face her.

She studied his face. Obvious? That Krist and Brad had some out-of-the-ordinary issues? Obvious that Krist was acting like an asshole? She felt like whatever had been obvious to Krist was not what had been obvious to her.

"Fuck dude, I wanted to beat his ass," he said, his tone picking up pace as he spoke.

Atira had a million and one questions but didn't want to interrupt him.

"He's so fucking lame, dude," Krist continued, "you don't show up like that to freaking Christmas dinner hella high and expect nobody to notice. I mean, maybe if nobody in your family has ever been around that shit, but everyone in that house knows."

Krist rose to his feet, pacing as he spoke. "I thought I was trippin' at first, but even Kali and Pat saw it too! You should have seen his face when I walked in the bathroom, and he was fuckin' choppin' that shit up. And then he's like, 'You want a fuckin' bump?' No, you freaking lop."

Atira's jaw fell open, "Wait a second, Brad is...on drugs?"

"Yes! He was geeked the fuck out, and I caught him chopping up a rail in the bathroom."

Atira covered her mouth, and his poor wife said, "Oh my gosh, do you think Brooke knows?"

Krist clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth, "Dude, if she don't know now, she's gonna figure it out soon. I don't even know how she wouldn't notice. He was so fuckin' high, babe. Back in the day, I definitely would not have gone to my mom's high like that."

She was surprised, to say the least. Brad, of all people. Wow. Atira had promised Linda she would tell her what Krist's issue had been but upon hearing what exactly had been the source of tension, she was not so sure if she should.