The house started to fill up with people, and Nolan slipped out unnoticed to head to the guesthouse to shower and change, just as her parents came in to join us. Rosie started cooking breakfast, and by the time she was done, Nolan was back.
Christmas Eve was always a tradition at my dad’s house. Most of his buddies from college, and their families came to the house along with some of his closest business partners. Pops always had a big Christmas Eve gathering; I think partly to make up for the fact that I always had to spend the actual holiday with Mom. Rosie seemed to be in her element, serving up sausage and biscuits to the dozens of people now filing into the house. She’d been helping my dad on Christmas Eve for years. And the time hit me in the face when her son Edmund showed up with a family of his own.
“Mijo, come here,” Rosie said, squeezing my arm and turning me to follow her. “You remember Edmund? You were probably five years old when he used to babysit you. He’s on leave for the holidays. George couldn’t make it, but it’s nice to have one of my boys here.”
I shook Edmund’s hand, and shook my head in disbelief. Here was this mature, grown man who I remembered looking like a teenager. Rosie was hugging Edmund’s wife hello when a little girl with long pigtails came running up and leapt into Edmund’s arms, burying her face into her father’s chest. She reminded me so much of Nolan.
“Samantha, can you say hi?” Edmund said softly in his daughter’s ear? The shy girl peered from under his arm, and smiled at me softly before ducking back into her father’s arms.
“It’s okay, maybe next time,” I smiled at Edmund who just shrugged his shoulders.
“She’s super shy. She’ll warm up to you, though,” he said, patting me on the back while he walked away to join his wife in the living room. As he did, Samantha popped her head above his shoulder and smiled bigger now, raising her tiny hand to scrunch her fingers at me for a covert wave. I raised my hand and gave her a small one back before putting my finger to my mouth to give her a shhhhh, like it would be our little secret.
Rosie’s family was beautiful, and I found myself envious of her son. I walked out to the patio where I found Nolan talking with her parents, and for the first time in weeks, my grandmother’s ring made its way back into my thoughts, it’s weight comfortably back on my mind.
Christmas Eve was a full day of eating and drinking at the Johnson house. A few card games were in progress on the back patio and, somehow, old UofA football games made their way to the big screen TV, my dad and his college buddies camped in front of it reliving their glory days. Nolan’s dad, Rich, seemed to like the stories, though, because he was settled in on the sofa next to my dad, honestly interested in every word. The scene made me laugh a little when I made my way to the front driveway to get a little air and look for my girl.
“Hey, you see Nolan?” I asked Jason who was leaning against the garage, smoking a cigar. He always smoked cigars on special holidays. I don’t think he even really liked them, he just liked how important they made him look in his own mind.
“Nope,” Jason said, uninterested.
“Okay then, thanks…asshole,” I said the last part a bit under my breath.
“What was that?” Jason asked, walking up to me and stomping out his cigar on the ground. We hadn’t been kind to one another in years, so why he was taking offense to it now baffled me.
“Look, man. I was just razzing you, no big,” I said, backing up and turning around. Just then, I felt a fist slam into my back, knocking the wind out of me, and sending me forward on my feet.
“What the f**k?” I yelled, turning around and getting my balance, my feet under me now.
“What’d you say to Dylan about me? You tell her I’m a player? That I sleep around?” Jason was pissed, and unreasonable.
“Dude, what the f**k are you talking about?” I asked, holding my hands up now, ready to defend myself.
“Dylan took off this morning, said we needed some time apart, things were moving too fast,” and as Jason spoke, I was starting to realize something. He actually liked Dylan, maybe even loved her. “So what did you do man? I know you said something. You hate me so much, can’t stand my success.”
“Jason, look…I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, backing off from him a little and shaking my head in an effort to get him to calm down.
“Ooooooh, wait a minute. I know,” he had that tone suddenly. “You were jealous. You envy me because I have a real woman—and you’re still with some f**king girl from high school. My girlfriend looks like a supermodel, while yours…” he let an evil laugh slip slowly from his throat. “Yours looks like a grocery clerk…just like her f**king mom.”