“Jacks wanted to do it. Plus, I thought you were staying in with us tonight.”
“I am... but I do intend to go over there for a few minutes, at least to say hello. I think it would be rude if I didn’t.”
“Maybe they’d like some family time. I assured them that they would have as much privacy as they wanted, Livvy. For the next week and a half, it’s not your loft, okay? We had an agreement.”
“I know.”
“So don’t invite yourself over. Let them make the call.” I roll my eyes, feeling confident that Jon wants to see me just as badly as I want to see him.
“Okay, Mom.”
“In the meantime, you can help me wrap some presents for dad and Trey.” She always relies on me to do a good share of the wrapping. I’m fairly meticulous about the task, and I don’t like for two packages to ever look the same.
“Cool.”
Dad comes home an hour later, and brings a few more gifts for me to decorate for Trey. He’d told me that Jon had met them over there with some groceries, intending to make dinner for his family. I’d kept waiting for my invitation, but it’s eight o’clock before he calls me to check in.
The next day, Jon and I take Max and Trey to see a big model train exhibit at a local store, and to do a little shopping for our parents. Will comes along, and is a good sport, even though he’s obviously bored. He brought a book, and has been reading it when we stop for more than a few seconds.
I help Jon pick out some earrings for his mother. She wanted some simple silver hoops, and while it seemed like an easy present to buy, he was overwhelmed with the amount of options available.
“I wish I could see what they’d look like on,” he says, struggling between two different sizes. He keeps holding the packages up to my ears to try to get an idea. “Can we just pierce your ears today, Olivia? It’d really help me out,” he teases.
“No way,” I tell him. “I’m afraid something will go wrong and they’ll permanently ruin my ears.”
“I don’t think anyone’s ever gone deaf from a simple ear-piercing.”
“I’m not worried about going deaf. I’m worried my lobes will go numb.”
“Who cares about numb earlobes?” Jon’s oldest brother asks us. “They don’t do anything except hold earrings.” Jon lifts his eyebrows, waiting for my answer.
“You’ll see,” I tell Will secretively as I give Jon a sexy smile. He sets down both sets of jewelry and leans over, surprising me by kissing my ear and taking the lobe into his mouth. I close my eyes momentarily, loving the way it feels, before pushing him away as my cheeks blush bright pink. I look around to see if there are people watching. Aside from Will and the salesperson, no one else saw the intimate moment.
“Seriously, Jon?” Will says as he starts to walk away toward Max and Trey.
“You have no idea, Will,” Jon says, stopping his brother. “Nor should you,” he adds, pointing his finger as if giving him direction. “Yet.”
“Hurry up,” Trey whines, clearly bored at the jewelry store.
“I like the thicker ones, if you want my opinion,” I tell him.
“I do. Thank you. We’ll take these,” he says to the woman behind the counter. He wraps his arms around me from behind and presses his lips to my ear again.
“You have to stop doing that,” I warn him. He kisses my cheek, finally letting go of me to pay. After he’s finished, we corral our brothers and guide them out of the store once again.
“Livvy, can we go in here?” Trey asks as he peeks through the large window of FAO Schwarz.
“Guys, we’re shopping for our parents,” I remind them as Will opens the door to the shop and ushers them inside anyway. “Stay together, at least,” I call out to them. My brother flanks to the left, drawn to a large Lego display. Max goes to the right after seeing a wall of Star Wars collectibles.
“Divide and conquer,” Jon says as he takes off after his youngest brother. I follow Trey, checking out the different sets. When I look up, I see a few different patrons holding up their phones, snapping pictures of me and my brother.
“Livvy,” one older woman asks, “will you take a picture with my granddaughter?”
“Of course,” I tell her kindly, putting my arm around the girl who’s probably around ten. “What’s your name?” I ask her.
“Allie,” she says bashfully. We both smile for her grandmother’s camera. “I think you’re so pretty,” she says.
“You’re sweet, thank you. I love your curls.” I pull on one long strand of hair, watching the blonde curl bounce back into place.
“My grandma did my hair.”
“It’s gorgeous. Grandmas are great, aren’t they?” I say wistfully, thinking of Granna.
“Yeah,” she answers. “I want to grow up and be just like you.” I’m taken aback by the young girl’s admission.
“Like me?” I ask as the older woman she’s with thanks me for my time.
“You’re pretty and smart and rich,” she says.
“That’s so sweet.”
“Let’s let Livvy finish her shopping,” her grandmother says.
“Goodbye, Allie.”
“Bye,” she says with a quick wave on her way to a counter full of dolls.
“Why doesn’t anyone want my pictures?” Trey asks.
“They aren’t supposed to bother you, buddy. That’s what Dad has asked. But there were people snapping pictures of you earlier. You didn’t notice?”
“No,” he says. I don’t know why, but this concerns me. I look around, finally spotting a man with his phone angled toward us.
“Look, you see that man over there?” I point rudely at the older guy. “He’s taking a picture with his phone.” My brother smiles broadly, saying ‘cheese’ like he was taught when he was much younger.
“That’s cute, Trey, but they shouldn’t be doing that.” It was one thing when people took my picture. When I was Trey’s age, my parents were the ones that garnered the attention, not so much me. As I grew up, the interest shifted to me. My brother had been shielded from this for many years. “Let’s go find Jon.”
“Why shouldn’t they?” my brother asks as we wander the store. I keep an eye on everyone else around, now putting myself between him and any other onlookers. I finally find my boyfriend, who’s letting Max pick out an action figure for one of his gifts.
“Jon,” I say, ignoring Trey, “is it creepy that there are full grown men taking pictures of my brother?”
“Who?” he asks, suddenly giving me his full attention.
“I’ve seen about four people. One lady asked me to pose with her granddaughter. I don’t mind that, but it’s seems like so much more of an exploitation with Trey.”
“Yeah, I think it’s creepy,” he says, now looking around and noticing that many of the shoppers are looking in our direction. “Max,” he says, “you don’t need to make the decision now. I’ll come back and get one for you.” He takes Han Solo from him and sets it back on the counter. “We need to go.”
By the time we leave the store, a crowd of photographers has lined up on the sidewalk. Flashbulbs go off as people yell questions at us. What am I getting Jon for Christmas? What’s he getting for me? How do I like Yale? Any wedding plans on the horizon? Who are the other kids with us? Where are my parents?
I hold on to Max and Trey while Jon pushes through the crowd and Will follows us from behind. “Mom and Dad are at home,” Trey answers one of the questions.
“Hush,” I tell him tersely. “We don’t ever talk to strangers.”
“But they want my picture!” he argues, once again grinning from ear to ear. The photographers seem to close in on us. Jon eventually stops, impeded by the slow steps of our young brothers and their fascination with their newfound celebrity. He turns around and looks at me, clearly frustrated, handing me the shopping bag he was carrying.
“Will?” he asks.
“Yeah?”
“I need you to give Max a piggyback ride. Can you handle
him?”
“He’s too big for that.”
“I don’t care. Suck it up.” Will nods as Max releases my hand and jumps on his brother’s back willingly.
“I want one!” Trey says out loud.
“Come on,” Jon says as he squats down. I help settle my brother on his back. “You’ve gotta hold on tight, Trey, okay?”
“Cool!” is his answer as he clasps his arms around Jon’s neck.
“Will, lead the way... I want to get them all out of here.” Jon’s brother nods and steps in front of us, walking quickly as he holds his brother securely in place. “I’ve got Trey,” he assures me, nudging me along ahead of him. I tuck my head down, watching the tennis shoes in front of me for guidance. In two blocks, the crowd has finally gotten the point and–one by one–they stop following us.
Max and Trey are both giggling, even after Jon and his brother set them safely down on the concrete.
“Your dad’s not gonna like this.”
“We’re fine,” I tell him. “They’re gone. Let’s just keep shopping.”
He bites his lip and nods, taking the bag back and slipping his hand into mine. We watch our brothers, eventually following them into the department store that I’d wanted to go to.
“You okay?” I ask Jon, sensing his lingering tension.
“I’m fine,” he says. “They just get so close. It’s getting to the point that I think you and I can handle these photographers, but with our brothers here... it just presents more of a challenge.”
“I know,” I agree after directing the kids to the third floor. “I don’t think Trey’s ever been my sole responsibility. It’s a little harrowing.”
“Yeah.” We both look around, and even though the store is packed, people seem to be ignoring us.
“Why don’t you take the boys to the electronics section? I don’t think they want to shop for a purse for my mom and aunts.”
He hesitates for a moment.
“Or I can keep Trey. Or you can all stay here and be bored,” I suggest.
“No, we’ll go.” I start to look into the various glass cases, looking for a handbag I think my mom will like. I overhear Jon telling his brothers to stick together before he turns his attention to Trey.
“You stay next to me, got it?”
“Got it,” Trey says, happy for Jon’s attention.
“You can talk to me and Max and Will all you want, but you can’t talk to anyone else, okay? What were you doing talking to those people back there? Didn’t Jack and Emi teach you about strangers?”
“Of course,” he says, fidgeting.
“Are photographers strangers?”
“No,” Trey answers coyly. I know he knows they are, and I suspect he’s just trying to push my boyfriend’s buttons. I walk toward them to offer assistance, but stand back, continuing to listen to Jon.
“They’re not?” he asks. “What was that one guy’s name then? The one in the weird red cap with the green ball on top. Who was he?”
“I don’t know,” Trey answers.
“What’s a stranger?” Jon asks.
“Someone I don’t know.” Although I can’t see him, I am fairly certain he’s rolling his eyes.
“Who’s the guy in the red cap with the green ball on top who had a camera with him?”
“A stranger,” Trey amends his earlier response, and emphasizes his annoyance by flailing his arms.
“Exactly. I know it seems like they know you, but the thing to remember is that you don’t know them. Okay?”
“Okay, I know!”
“Okay,” Jon says, standing up and waving me off, a self-satisfied smile spreading across his lips. “Let’s go play some video games.”
As I’m looking at the selection, my phone rings.
“Hey, Dad.”
“How’s it going, Contessa?”
“Fine.”
“You haven’t bought anything yet?”
“Dad, can you ignore the purchase notifications for today? They might ruin Christmas for you. You gave me a limit, and I promise I will stay well within that limit. Okay?”
“Jackson’s behaving?”
“Yeah, they’re all good. We had a little trouble outside of FAO Schwarz, but everyone escaped unharmed.” I continue talking over him as he starts to fire off a question. “Just casual photographers in the store and then some professional ones when we went outside.”
“I bet Will and Max were a little scared by that?”
“Scared?” I ask him. “Dad, they loved it. Are you kidding?”
“I hate it.”
“I know you do. Don’t worry about us today, though. Jon and I can handle this. Don’t you have some shopping to do?”
“I’m finished. Just cleaning the house for tomorrow. Are they doing okay at the loft? Do they need anything?”
“Dad, they’re fine. We’ll be home in an hour or two. And I mean it, please don’t panic about my spending. I want your gift to be a surprise, okay?”
“Alright, Contessa. Be safe.”
“We are, Daddy. Love you.” A saleslady approaches me as soon as I tuck my phone away.
“Your father?” she asks me.
I smile politely. “Yes.”
“Are you shopping for your mother?” she continues as if she knows my family.
I nod to her, a little apprehensive. She leans into me. “She was in here a few weeks ago looking at this clutch over here,” she says. She pulls out a plaid color block carryall from the case and hands it to me. I love it, but realize immediately that’s not my mom’s style.
“I’ll assume she was shopping for me,” I tell the woman. “She didn’t buy it?” The saleslady shakes her head, watching me as I admire the purse. “We’ll come back to that one,” I say as I set it down next to me and eye all of the options surrounding me. I finally see one with a nice shape and graphic style that I think Mom would love. “Can I see the striped tote? The black and white one? Oh, and the little cross-body bag next to it, too?”
“Of course.” She hands me both. “For the tote, we also have that in pink and red.”
I look inside, judging the space to make sure there’s enough room for a laptop since she likes to take it with her from time to time. The woman steps away for a minute to ring up another patron, but returns to me immediately after the sale is over. I’ve made up my mind. “I’ll take the pink and red one,” I tell her, “and this little one, too, for my aunt.”
“And what about this one?” she says, touching the plaid bag. Maybe Mom got it somewhere else. I shouldn’t be buying things for myself anyway.
“What’d you get?” Jon asks as he sneaks up on me. Our brothers are trying on women’s hats, laughing at themselves as they see their reflections in the mirrors.
“That for my mom, and that for Anna,” I say as I point out the two bags the saleslady is holding. She turns around and begins to ring them up, finding matching gift bags to put the purses in.
“What’s this?” he asks as he eyes the plaid bag in front of me.
I smile and shrug. “It’s cute.” He checks out the price tag and shakes his head.
“For a purse?”
“You know I like plaid,” I say. “I was just looking.”
“Will you be adding the color block bag, Livvy?”
“No, thank you.” I push it aside and get out my wallet to pay.
“What’s next?” Jon asks.
“I need to go to the Men’s department and find something for Dad.” I check my cash, making sure I have enough to buy him something nice. He’d always paid for his own Christmas gifts, but I had decided that I would get him something with money I had earned from a painting. I was doing the same for Jon. Hopefully next year, I’ll be able to afford Mom’s gift on my own, too. I probably could have today, had I not selected one of the more expensive purses in the case. I knew she’d like it, though, and get a lot of use out of it.
He leans into me closely. “I have to go back to the electronics department and
get something for Will. Can you take them with you? I’ll meet you down there.”
“Sure,” I tell him, “go ahead.” He kisses my cheek and tells the other boys to go with me. I give Trey the smaller bag to carry.
Two floors down, I ask Will and Max to each pick out a shirt for their brother. If he hated the gifts, I’d have someone else to blame, but the ones they choose are nice and I think Jon will like them both. I find a cashmere sweater that I can’t stop touching, and decide he needs that, too. We finally make it to the wallet section, where I find something to replace the one he’s carried for as long as I can remember. Our last stop is the tie shop, where I go to work finding a colorful one for Dad.
Dad’s preference for ties is either something bold, which he calls his power ties, or something very subdued, which my mother typically picks out for him. It had always been my job to find the most colorful tie that he’d be least likely to wear. The tradition began with the tie Anna had bought him for the day of my final adoption hearing. Dad has kept every single one of them, and he wears them on special occasions. He insists they’re good icebreakers, and in turn, good luck. I find the tie and a nice pair of cufflinks, and amble up to the counter with my stash to pay. All of our brothers are clearly bored, my brother especially, who has now started whining.
Jon meets us just as the salesperson hands me the bags. Will leads the way back down the escalators, ready to go home.
“That’s quite a haul,” he says. I glance down and notice he’s carrying two small bags.
“What’d you get?”
“Some games. Mom is buying them a new system for Christmas. I had to pick out the games.”
“Let me see,” I say, reaching for the bags.
“No. Later. I don’t want them to see it.”
“They’re not even paying attention.”
“Still,” he says, reluctant to show me his purchases. “Oh, go ahead,” he says finally, handing me one of the bags.
“Good for you,” I comment, seeing both of the games are sports-related and nothing violent. “And in there?” I motion to the other bag.
“Nothing.”
“Did you get me something?” I ask him.
“Did you get me something?” he says as he tries to take one of my bags.