The Older We Get

Chapter 67

-Bit Over One Month Later: Few Days Till Christmas-

"It's the most, wonderful time, of the year! With the kids jingle belling, and everyone telling you be of good cheer! It's the most wonderful time of the year! It's the hap-happiest season of all!"

"With those holiday greetings and gay happy meetings when friends come to caaall!! It's the hap-happiest season of aaalll!!" I politely belt out at my register, that fantastic Andy William's classic streaming through the store speakers.

"They'll be parties for hosting, marshmallow's for toasting!" Jenny takes me up just ahead as Josh walks by following it with his own tone deaf voice. All of us wrapping up our shifts so our replacements can relieve us.

Everywhere I turn now, Christmas decorations, snow, fake Santa's, couples, and little children getting excited for their gifts that'll turn up under the tree.

"Oh I love this one!" Jenny beams when Michael Buble's version of 'It's Beginning To Look Alot Like Christmas' replaces the last set of lyrics when we all lock our stations during peoples averting attentions to fellow lanes.

"Fancy some Buble'?" We walk side by side before she giggles and nods.

"He's very attractive and his voice."

"So suave in my opinion." I open the door for the both of us to meet up with our lockers again that hold the clothes we managed to stuff inside, plus our own individual sticky notes and character decisions stuck to the doors. "Do you have all your relatives' gifts?"

"Yeah, though some of them just wanted Log Cake."

"So easy to please." I take off my shirt and reach in for the soft oversized ivory sweater with snowflakes crocheted into the material.

"What about you? All the family members off the list?"

"Ah-well. More or less." I try to cover up that awkward response with an even more awkward laugh.

Truth be told, mom and I are, so, so right now. I think she's getting the picture that I'm not budging from my decisions even after a whole month afterwards and what's more; my attitude towards moving out is becoming alarming to her.

Then there's dad who just gives me mixed impressions.

I don't know if he's still upset with me or if he's trying to reach out to me but doesn't know how. Mom won't talk about it without spinning the situation into her problems and I'm nearly finished trying to communicate.

After all these years of being so reliable with each other, this is what happens after one day.

"I don't exactly know what to get my parents. They're expressive about it buuut, eh. I got you something though!"

"You did? I got you something too!"

"No way, like the whole 'buy 10 of these same gifts to give to 10 of the people I get along with but don't really know' deal?" I joke with her before she zips up her brown denim jumper dress, reaching for black pantyhose to cover her thin legs with afterwards. She always dresses so cute.

Every time I try I find I'm not cut out for it.

"Get out of here. I got you something particular."