Page 62 of The Man Next Door
He handed me my glass of egg nog with a smile. “I made them.”
“You did?” I was certainly impressed. I knew he enjoyed woodworking, but didn’t realize he was so talented.
The wood stove fire was roaring, and we both stood in front of it, cupping our egg nogs. It really felt like Christmas.
“Thanks for coming over, kid.”
I smiled. “Thanks for having me.”
“You didn’t have to get me all those presents,” he said. “You’re too sweet.”
“That’s why you love me,” I teased.
He surprised me when he replied, “That I do.”
My heart warmed. “Me too… I love you too, Gavin.”
The declarations were not exactly romantic, simply two friends admitting that they loved each other.
He drained his egg nog. “I feel kind of bad… I only got you one gift.”
My chest swelled at the thought of opening a gift from Gavin. “You got me something?”
“Of course.” He rose and reached for one of the gifts under the tree.
I’ve seen some beautiful sights in my life. I’ve had the privilege of traveling abroad with Daniel and witnessed stunning landscapes; sunsets in the Savannah, the Paris cityscape at night, the beaches of Maui at sunrise, amongst many others. But the most beautiful thing I’ve seen to date remains Gavin’s smile that Christmas Eve when he handed me my gift.
I was absolutely giddy when I tore into it. My heart stopped at the sight of it, an exquisitely carved box.
“For all your precious girly things,” he teased.
I laughed. “I don’t have that many girly things,” I told him. “Izzie could use this more than I could.”
He grinned. “I’m sure you’ll find some stuff to put in there. Open it.”
My heart hammered against my ribcage as I popped open the lid and ventured a look inside. Something was wrapped in red tissue paper, and I scrambled to unwrap it, all thumbs. It was a beautiful ornament, just like the ones I had just admired, a pretty rocking horse, painted in reds and greens and shades of white. I knew I would never hang this on our family tree. It was too precious to be nestled amongst those cheap plastic ornaments. No, it would be kept in my room.
Years later, I would eventually hang it on my tree every Christmas. Off season, it sits on a bookshelf in my bedroom, next to the box, where I can glance at it all year round. In the box, I keep memories from my youth, friendship bracelets and a BFF necklace from Izzie, letters she wrote me, full of her quirks, and silly photos we’d taken at photo booths. I rarely open the box because as precious as it is, it’s also full of heartbreak.
I threw myself at him and gave him the biggest hug possibly known to mankind. “I love it!” His laugh was nervous as he gently pushed me away.
“I’m sorry… this is just so nice,” I tried to explain. “No one has ever made me anything this special… Well, Izzie made me friendship bracelets but they were nothing like this.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he said matter-of-factly, silently settling me down. I couldn’t be jumping on him like that.
I bounced off the sofa. “I made you stuff too,” I said, eager to show him. I reached for the three boxes and handed them to him. “Open the small one first.”
He obliged and tore at the small flat gift. He smiled when he saw it; a bookmark I had made at school in my Media Arts class.I like big books and I cannot lie,it read, an inside joke of sorts.
“You know, because you like big books so much.”
He laughed. “I get it… thanks, this is great.”
“Now open this round one.”
He eagerly unwrapped the Christmas tin, full of chocolate peanut butter balls I’d made to satisfy his sweet tooth. My brothers had bitched when I wouldn’t let them eat the whole batch, when I’d told them I was saving some for a friend.
He eagerly popped the lid open. The scent of peanut butter filled our nostrils instantly. “I love it… chocolate balls.”
