Contessa

  “If you’re worried about my dad, he’s fine. He’ll probably apologize to you, but Mom calmed him down. I’ve spent the afternoon with him, and he’s absolutely fine.”

  “He’s fine now,” he says quietly.

  “Yeah, he is,” I assure him. “It’ll be like nothing ever happened, I promise.”

  “Right,” Jon says nodding. “Olivia, your present...”

  “What about it?”

  He takes another deep breath. “I want to give it to you, more than anything, but I’m really nervous.”

  “Why?”

  “Never mind,” he says. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s fine.”

  “What is it?”

  “I want it to be a surprise,” he says. “It’s fine. I shouldn’t worry. I’m sorry.”

  “If it’s something personal, I’m sure we could get a few minutes to exchange our own gifts.”

  “That might be the easy way out, but I don’t want to leave you with the aftermath.”

  “Okay, now I’m scared,” I tell him.

  “No, don’t be. I’m sorry. I’m making a big deal out of something that shouldn’t– well, it’s a big deal to me, but I think I’d be fine if I hadn’t seen your dad like that a few hours ago.”

  “He is fine,” I repeat for the third time.

  “Your dad’s a reasonable man.”

  “Most of the time, yes. Yeah, I’m definitely scared now. I’m going to push for some private time.”

  “No, Liv.” It’s my turn to take a deep breath as I pull into the driveway. Jon puts the car into park for me and turns off the ignition. He puts his hand on my leg and angles my face toward his. “We’ll be fine. That, I promise.”

  “Okay,” I say with a weak smile.

  “I didn’t tell you how gorgeous you look tonight, did I?”

  I shake my head as I step out of the car. Shutting the door, I walk behind the car to the passenger side. When he gets out, I unbutton my orange trench coat and slip it off my shoulders. Jon takes a good look at my entire outfit. I’d begged Mom for this color block sheath dress the moment I saw it. It wasn’t until she saw it on me that she agreed I had to have it.

  “Wow, I didn’t tell you before because I hadn’t seen you fully. My god, Olivia. You’re stunning, and I feel underdressed.” He looks down at his dark blue jeans and the black blazer he’s wearing over a black v-neck t-shirt.

  “You look... like, sexy,” I tell him, blushing.

  “Wow, thanks,” he says as he puts his arms around me. “Not as sexy as you do, though. I don’t think your parents will give us any time to ourselves tonight. That dress is short, Liv. You must be freezing.”

  “I am a little,” I tell him. “But you like it?”

  “I love it. I love you in dresses.”

  “I’m getting used to them. I like how you respond to them.”

  “And I’m holding back.” He laughs as his eyes scan my body once more. “Kiss me,” he whispers. I can’t resist him. He takes the coat from my hand and drapes it over my shoulders. “Please tell me it’s very warm in your house.”

  “It is. Why?”

  “Because I don’t want you to wear that coat anymore tonight.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Excellent. Let’s get you inside.”

  I push the coat off the second we get inside. My mom is the first to greet Jon, with my brother following closely behind him. “We got you a present,” my brother says.

  “Well,” Jon says cheerfully, “that wasn’t necessary, but thank you. I got you something, too.”

  “We got you a–”

  “Trey!” my mom shrieks as she covers his mouth before he can reveal the gift. I know Jon will freak out, especially remembering how he reacted to the camera earlier today.

  “What?” Trey says, looking innocent. “I was going to tell him we got him a checkerboard.”

  “Oh, yes,” Mom says. “Trey loves checkers.”

  “I love checkers,” Jon says. “If you’ve got a board, we should play later.”

  “Can we?”

  “Sure,” I assure my anxious brother.

  “Jon,” my dad says as he comes downstairs. “Merry Christmas, and welcome back.”

  “Merry Christmas. And thanks. I’ve been looking forward to dinner all day.”

  “Listen. About earlier, I am very sorry you had to see that. It takes a lot to get me to that point, but there’s really no excuse. I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

  “That’s not even necessary,” Jon says, but accepts the hand my dad extends to him. “It’s much better than seeing people stand back and watch their family members go down the wrong path. I think it’s admirable that you’re trying to help.”

  “It may be a lost cause at this point, if he doesn’t make some significant changes really quickly. But enough about Brandon. I hope you came hungry.”

  “Starving. I haven’t eaten since the milk and cookies from earlier.”

  “Perfect. We made too much, I’m sure.”

  “I can eat a lot,” Jon says, following my family into the kitchen.

  We all serve ourselves from dishes on the kitchen island, and then retreat to our rarely used formal dining room, which is modestly decorated with a few strings of Christmas lights. As we settle into our seats, I prepare myself for my dad’s typical toast.

  He clears his throat and picks up his glass, smiling and meeting the eyes of everyone around the table. “I just want to wish my family a Merry Christmas, and I want to welcome Jon to his first Christmas celebration at our home. We’re pretty low-key here, but I hope you have a nice evening.” He clinks his glass to my mother’s and brother’s, then holds it up to me and Jon. My mom and I look at one another curiously, but drink. That was not the typical eloquent toast he delivers.

  “If I can say something really quickly,” Jon adds. “Thank you for having me here tonight. It truly means a lot to me to be included in your celebration, and I hope you know that your daughter also means a lot to me. I hope this is the first of many holidays we can share together.”

  My dad nods and takes another drink, then sets his glass down and starts eating. Over dinner, we mainly talk about my family’s plans for the weekend at the lake house. We take turns explaining to Jon about the various gatherings we have and which cousins belong to whose side of the family. We joke about getting out a chart to show him, but he follows along quite well. I forget his brain is a sponge.

  After we eat, we go into the living room with the presents. Mom fixes chai tea for everyone, her favorite holiday beverage, and we all settle in around the tree. Dad turns on some holiday music as Trey pokes around under the tree, finding all of the presents with his name on them.

  “Are we opening presents tonight, Daddy?”

  “You can open the one Jon brought and you can pick one other one from under the tree. The rest of them have to wait until Christmas Eve.”

  “Me, too?” I ask my dad. He rolls his eyes but agrees. I quickly grab one particular box that had my curiosity piqued from the moment I noticed it under the tree. Jon arranges the four presents he’d brought in front of him. I feel queasy, looking at the small box he has for me. Jewelry. Now I’m scared again.

  After all, the first gift he ever gave me–the one for my birthday–was deeply personal, and we had only been talking for a few weeks. We weren’t even officially dating. If he could give me something so meaningful back then, I shudder to think what he’s done tonight. That’s not to say I don’t want it; I’m just afraid of my parents’ reactions.

  “I wasn’t sure what to get you two,” Jon says humbly as he hands each of my parents a cylindrical container that contains the wine he’d mentioned to me. “Don’t worry, I didn’t buy it. My uncle got it for me. He said they were both good.”

  “Very nice,” my dad says as he studies the bottle and recognizes the brand. “Thank you. This will not go to waste in this house.”

  “Definitely not,” my mother chimes in. “We’ll
have to save it for a special occasion,” she says. “Maybe our anniversary.”

  “They got married on January first,” I explain to Jon. “It won’t sit for long.”

  “Well,” Jon says, “happy anniversary, then, too.”

  “Thank you,” my parents say together.

  “Jackson, go ahead,” Dad says, noticing my brother peeking beneath the taped paper of the gift Jon has handed him. He tears into the paper to discover the set of wooden car parts that he has to assemble.

  “Cool!” he says. “I love cars!”

  “That’s what I heard. You don’t have those yet?”

  “Nope!”

  “Awesome. You can actually mix and match the pieces to make, like, five different types of cars or something,” he explains. “There are instructions inside.” My brother rips into the packaging and pours out all of the pieces, ignoring the printed instructions–or Jon’s–and just trying to figure out how they go together on his own.

  “Jon, I think Livvy has one for you,” my mom says to him. I crawl under the tree to grab the large box and hand it to him. His eyes are on my legs, and I have to wave the box in his face to get his attention. Thankfully, Dad has moved over next to Trey to help him with his cars.

  “Sorry,” he mouths to me. I smile, not at all bothered by his lack of manners.

  “I hope you like it,” I tell him as he opens it. I watch his expression as he lifts the lid from the box.

  “Wow, Olivia,” he says as he takes the leather bag out of the box. Acutely aware once again of the use of my full name, I look at my father this time. He actually looks confused, as if he’s misheard him. “This is nice.”

  “I thought you’d get a lot of use out of it next year at school–or even this year. I mean, how long have you had that backpack?”

  “It’s monogrammed?” he asks as he presses his fingers into the leather. He’s looking in all the pockets, smiling. “This is great! Oh, and seven years,” he adds. “I will be so happy to throw that thing away. This is great. I can fit so much into this. Wow. Thank you, Olivia.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Livvy, would you like to open one?”

  I choose the present from my parents first, still too afraid to open Jon’s gift. When I glance at him, it looks like I made the right choice. He looks completely anxious as he shuffles the box in his hands, back and forth.

  “Oh, my god, Mom, these are amazing,” I say as I pull out the pair of shoes from the box.

  “You may not get much wear out of them this winter, but I got such a good deal on them, I couldn’t not buy them for you.”

  “I absolutely love them.” The heels on the sparkling shoes are about three inches high.

  “Are you going to wear those to school, Liv?” my dad asks, joking.

  “Girls wear shoes like this to school all the time,” I tell him. “So probably.”

  “Can you even walk in those?” he adds.

  “Of course!” I roll my eyes at him, but in truth I know I’ll have to practice a lot. They’re higher and daintier than any shoes I’ve ever owned. “Do you like them?” I ask Jon as I hold them up next to my feet, sticking my legs out. I see my dad shift uncomfortably out of the corner of my eye.

  “They’re pretty,” Jon says simply, swallowing hard.

  “Your turn, Jackson,” Dad says quickly. The next gift is a new music player. He’d been begging for a new one since he dropped his other one in the bathtub. “You can’t use that until you open the waterproof case for it that’s somewhere under the tree–”

  “Daddy!” Trey protests.

  “We’ll find it tonight, buddy. But you have to be more careful with this one, okay?”

  “I promise.”

  “Jon’s turn,” I say quickly, wanting him to open the gift from my parents.

  “Ladies first,” he says as he hands me the small box.

  “No, you go.”

  “I insist.” We stare at one another for a good ten seconds before he nods at me to go first. I trust him, and start to peel away the paper. I recognize the jewelry brand on the small box. The entire family is quiet, watching me open this gift.

  I want to throw up.

  “Maybe we should–” I try to stall.

  “Open it,” Jon and my father say in unison. I look at Jon and his encouraging expression, then glance toward my dad. “Go on,” he says.

  I fold back the hinged lid to find a small silver ring with six tiny diamonds–or what appear to be diamonds–mounted in the center.

  “It’s a promise ring,” Jon says quickly, cutting the silence.

  “Oh,” I breathe, and hear another sigh coming from my mother. Dad gets up abruptly and goes into the kitchen. Jon moves closer to me and takes the ring out of the box.

  “I love you, Olivia,” he says softly, “and I’d like you to wear this ring, so no matter where I am, you know how much you mean to me. I’m always with you.”

  “It’s so pretty.” My heart is pounding, and I’m not sure if it’s sheer excitement about the gift or fear of what my father has to say–what my father is sure to say.

  “Will you wear it?”

  “Of course!” He places it on my ring finger, exactly where a wedding band will someday be. He rubs his thumb over a red stain on my pinkie. I pull my hand away to hug him, but he’s careful not to kiss me.

  “Do you know what that looks like?” Dad says from the kitchen doorway. Jon stands up, taking my hand in his. I stand next to him, linking his fingers with mine.

  “I know exactly what it looks like. It looks like a ring that a man would give to a woman he loves.”

  Dad rolls his eyes as his face pales. “Is it really an engagement ring?”

  “No, sir. It’s a promise ring. I would have asked your permiss–”

  “And what exactly is your promise to Livvy?” Dad interrupts abruptly.

  “I want your daughter to know my intentions. I want all of you to know.”

  “And those are?”

  “That, yes, I intend to ask Olivia to be my wife someday.”

  “This is ludicrous.”

  “I don’t understand–”

  “Why did you give her this ring?”

  “I don’t understand your question.”

  “Why does she need to know that someday you’ll ask her to marry you?”

  “I want her to know I’m serious about her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I am, I don’t know.”

  “Are you hoping for something in return?”

  “I certainly hope she feels the same way.”

  “Aside from her affections. What else are you hoping for?”

  “I understand what you’re implying, but that’s not why I gave her the ring. I’m a little offended you’d think that about me.”

  “So you don’t want to sleep with her?”

  Jon hesitates a fraction of a second too long to be convincing with a lie, so he doesn’t try. “That is a private matter between me and Olivia–”

  “The hell it is!” Dad throws his hands up and turns to walk out of the room, but he stops himself abruptly and walks back into the living room, standing behind the couch. His hands clutch the back of the sofa so tightly his knuckles turn white. “Have you slept with her already?”

  “Jacks–”

  “Emi, don’t.” Dad continues to stare at Jon.

  “Your son is in the room.”

  “Livvy, go take your brother downstairs.” He still doesn’t look away from my boyfriend.

  “No,” I tell him, afraid to leave Jon here alone with Dad. Mom gets up and takes Trey down to the basement. I can tell she’s angry by the way she stomps through the room.

  “Because I do know about your past indiscretions,” Dad continues on, ignoring my defiant answer.

  “Dad!”

  “That was personal information that has nothing to do with my relationship with your daughter.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion–”


  “No, I haven’t!” Jon interrupts loudly with his answer to Dad’s original question, his attention focused solely on my father. “We haven’t,” he reiterates, his voice shaky.

  The tension visibly leaves my dad’s shoulders. He lets go of the sofa and crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Good, because regardless of what you’ve already done, you’re both too young.”

  “You were in high school!” I counter my father’s argument, but he’s not listening to me at all.

  “True love knows no age, sir.”

  “Agreed. And teenagers don’t know true love.”

  “That’s not fair, Mr. Holland–”

  “Can we cut it out with the respectful names? I see what you’re trying to do–”

  “Jack,” Jon interrupts, “I do respect you, but I love your daughter more. Just because you didn’t find your true love until much later in life doesn’t mean that people my age can’t fall in love.”

  “You don’t know what it is. You can’t know, so young. I don’t want Livvy’s first boyfriend to be her last.”

  “Well, now I’m confused. I thought you had issues with my past dating history.”

  “I didn’t say lover, Jon,” Dad says, and I can tell it was hard for him to say that out loud. “I said boyfriend and that’s exactly what I mean. How can she make an educated decision about who she decides to commit her life to when you’re the only boy she’s ever dated?”

  “First of all, since when is love determined by an educated decision? And secondly, I’ll be eighteen in two months, sir.”

  “So what are you implying? Because my little girl won’t be–”

  “I’m only trying to say that I’m not a boy, Jack. I’ve been the man of the household for the last five years of my life. I’m more a man than most of the boys Olivia spends her time with at school every day. I can see why you’d be concerned, if that’s the only point of reference you have. But I’m not like them.”

  “And that’s sad to me, Jon, that you were forced to grow up so quickly. How unfortunate that your childhood was stolen away from you. That gives you no right to take my daughter’s.”

  Jon is quiet for a few minutes. Just when I think my father can claim victory, Jon speaks softly.

  “Is it wrong that I want to show her that I love her?”