Page 21 of Our Moon (JACT #1)

Christmas at the Monroe house is an epic event.

The day after Thanksgiving, the entire family goes to a nearby tree farm and actually cuts down a tree.

They spend the rest of that day drinking eggnog or cider and singing Christmas carols--I’m not kidding.

Then the guys do the outside lights and decorations, while the women take care of the indoor decorations.

After dinner, everyone gathers in the living room and helps decorate the tree.

Like many other family events, Mr. and Mrs. Monroe have always invited me to join the family for their Christmas preparation festivities, but I have always declined.

Until now. This year, I want to attend because spending extra time with Ally is like a gift, and I am not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Once all the intensive labor is through and we’re all gathering in the living room to start on the tree, Trevor suggests I get my guitar so I can play along with the songs they are singing. I actually played the guitar in a Christmas concert at school one year, so I do know a few Christmas songs.

We go through the traditional songs, and then because we’re JACT, we do a few rocking songs, too.

Everyone is singing and Ally and her mom are dancing, occasionally grabbing one of the guys for a spin.

And I’m jealous, because I’m stuck sitting on the couch with my guitar.

But every once in a while, I catch her looking my way and wink, then smile at her instant blush.

***

My mother and I are invited to my aunt’s house, her sister, for Christmas Day.

I don’t want to go. I barely know this woman and it kind of pisses me off that she knows the way my mother is, yet hasn’t ever tried to be more involved in my life.

I see how the Monroes are with one another and that’s the way a family should be.

In fact, Mrs. Monroe is the only reason I’m even going to my aunt’s house.

She told me that I didn’t know the specifics about why my aunt hasn’t been involved in my life and that I should give her a chance.

If it turns out to be a positive thing, then I have more family.

If it turns out to be negative, then I lose nothing. Mrs. Monroe tends to always be right.

Since I won’t be around on Christmas, Mrs. Monroe insists I join the family on Christmas Eve. Joey is there, too, since he won’t be around Christmas Day either. Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Monroe shower us both with gifts; it’s all music-related so you can tell Trevor and Alex had a hand in it.

It’s getting late and I’m running out of time.

I got Ally a present, and it’s not the CD, book, or movie type I can gift in front of everyone.

And no, it’s not lingerie either so get your mind out of the gutter.

It’s just kind of a big deal--not because it was expensive, but because of the thought I put into it.

Eventually I send her a text and let her know that I have a gift for my friend . She looks up at me after she reads it, immediately knowing that because I’m referring to our “secret friendship,” the gift isn’t something I can give her in front of everyone else.

She seems to consider our options, then texts me back that she’ll meet me outside about twenty minutes after I leave.

She says to be in “our spot,” which I take to mean the side of the garage where I found her crying all those months ago.

As much as I don’t like the reminder, it’s as good a place as any.

I nod in her direction and start saying my thanks yous and goodbyes .

Once in place, I pull the little box out of my pocket. It’s not wrapped because I can’t wrap a present to save my life, but I did stick on a green and red bow. I just hope she likes it, and I hope it’s not too much.

Almost exactly twenty minutes later, Ally comes outside. I notice she’s got a small box in her hand as well. She got me a present? I smile at her and she smiles back.

“Hey,” I say. Deep, right?

“I got something for you, too,” she says, thrusting the box at my chest. Looks like she’s about as nervous as I am to exchange these gifts.

“Thanks,” I say, taking it from her hand. “This is for you,” I hand her present over.

I look at my present and smile because it’s not wrapped either; and like mine, it has a bow on top, only it’s blue and silver. I want to see her reaction to her gift, so I wait to open mine until she’s done.

She pops the lid on the box and her eyes widen. “Chase,” she says softly. She fingers each of the charms on the bracelet: measuring spoons, a chef’s hat, an apron, a cookbook, a whisk, and a mixer. There’s room for more, and I figured I’d get her more in the future.

When she looks up to me, she has tears in her eyes. “This is perfect, thank you so much.” She steps forward and wraps her arms around my neck. We’ve hugged before, but never like this. I can feel every inch of her body against mine, and it feels good. Then she pulls away.

“Open yours.” Oh yeah, I have a present, too.

I open the box and inside is a silver guitar pick holder on a ball chain that can be worn like a necklace. Inside the holder are picks, and the one on top is sky blue and has a “C” etched in it.

“I love it. Thank you, Al.” I fight to keep the emotion out of my voice. Like my gift to her, this was a heartfelt gift. Thoughtful. I rub my finger on the face of the personalized pick.

“It’s the same color blue as your eyes,” she says quietly, and I smile. A very thoughtful gift.

I lift the necklace over my head. I don’t ever want to take it off. This girl completely disarms me and I have no idea what to do about it.