Page 146 of Last Letters to Ara
You’d think we asked him to be the test dummy for a new Taser or a grueling day of physical torture. Actually, now that I think about it, he would probably enjoy those two activities more than this ugly Christmas sweater party.
Both Lou and I have been curious about the boys’ mission to bring him into our little crew. Whenever we ask, they share a silent look or two and tell us they feel bad for the guy. We don’t buy it. There is definitely something else behind why they are trying, despite Ryder’s best efforts to be left alone.
I haven’t seen a trace of the sweet, even funny side of Ryder which I saw that night in the bar when I wandered in, lost in grief, looking for the way to get through my dad’s birthday at the bottom of a bottle. It’s almost as if once he realized the boys cared about him, he’s done everything possible to keep them at arm’s length. Connor and Theo had to threaten to turn up at his bar singing Christmas carols to get him to show up tonight.
“Aren’t you supposed to do this shit on Christmas?”
“Merry Christmas to you, too,” I say with an eye roll. “And actually,mostpeople have their Christmas parties before Christmas anyway, but we share Christmas with Theo’s birthday, and that’s a lot to jam-pack into a day.”
We had all decided to create new Christmas traditions together this year. I couldn’t face doing my regular traditions without my dad. Lou had only ever gone to toxic Christmas parties in her community. Connor grew up in Australia where most of them celebrate by going to the beach, and with it being Theo’s birthday (and therefore the anniversary of his mom’s death), Christmas was never a time for celebrating for him or his father.
“Merry Christmas.” Ryder hands me a bottle of vodka, tequila, and white rum, keeping one bottle tucked under his arm, which appears to be some sort of whiskey. “This one is mine.”
I raise a brow. “Did you take this from your bar?”
Something dark passes over his face before he shrugs. “They owe me.”
Ryder unscrews the bottle cap, taking a generous gulp that has me reaching for my own throat before walking toward the living room. Something is eating at him I realize, driving him further away from that bartender who helped me.
I follow him into the living room, finally figuring out why Connor has had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face this entire night.
“Seriously, Connor!?” His sweater seems as innocent as ugly Christmas sweaters go at first glance, but when you look closer, the red-and-white Christmas pattern is actually fucking reindeer. Not “fucking” as an exclamation, but as an activity. The reindeer are literally banging. “Where did you even find that?”
Connor smiles, proudly straightening it out so everyone can get a better look. “It’s bloody great, isn’t it?”
Lou cackles. “That’s the best sweater I’ve ever seen.”
Ryder pulls a stool into the corner of the room, taking another swig of his whiskey while I place the bottles of alcohol on the island with the rest of the “Christmas Potluck” items.
Doing the same thing each Christmas could get boring after twenty years, so I came up with the potluck idea. Instead of food, we each bring a different Christmas-themed gift or an activity for us to do.
This whole thing being my brainchild, it was my duty to bring the gingerbread house making kits, obviously. Theo brought an assorted pack of various Christmas hats, and we aredefinitelygiving Ryder the grumpy elf one.
Lou brought her Polaroid camera, with a kit that has a slot for you to slide the Polaroids into a snow globe ornament (we’ve been told that we can only take ugly pictures). It’s no surprise that Ryder brought alcohol, but we are all still in mystery as to what Connor’s gift is.
Connor said he paid to get it wrapped up by one of those paid gift-wrapping stations at the mall because it’s that good. He wouldn’t let us open it until Ryder arrived, so now that he’s here, I’m dying to know what’s bad enough to make him so excited.
“Can I open it now?” Connor asks, rubbing his hands together.
“Um, definitely not.” I grab the gift from him, tossing it to Theo.
Connor opens his mouth to argue, but Theo has already removed the bow and starts pulling back the paper.
“This better be good,” Lou says with an eye roll.
It’s not good.
It is so, so,sobad.
“Christmas-flavored…condoms?” Theo says, trying not to laugh (probably for my sake). “Candy cane…gingerbread…eggnog…andcocoa.”
Smiling wide, Connor continues, “Isn’t it great?”
We could make an entire orchestra performance out of the forehead slaps and aggravated sounds we make in Connor’s presence.
“It’s definitely something,” Theo says with a chuckle, setting the box down next to him. “I guess I’ll take it since I’m the only one with a date.”
Connor reaches over and takes them back. “I don’t need to have a date to get laid. In fact, I’ve figured out how to skip that step entirely.”
