Contessa

  “Well that makes sense. You’ll be married to him in a few months.”

  “I can’t wait!”

  “Did you decide on the turquoise or green dresses?” Jackie asks. We’re all bridesmaids. Lexi’s mother, Renee, is going to be her matron of honor.

  “Turquoise.”

  “I love that one,” Clara said. “Can my boyfriend come to the wedding?”

  “If you can get him across the pond,” Lexi says. “Dates are welcome. We will have a reception at home, though, too, after the honeymoon.”

  “Tell me about this church you’ve selected, Lexi,” Jon says.

  “It’s, like, more than eight hundred years old,” she starts. “They don’t know the exact age. It’s called Lady Chapel.”

  “Is it in London?”

  “No, Middlesbrough. It’s very small, on a hillside near some ancient ruins of an old abbey. It’s totally quiet there.”

  “And what was so special about it?” Jon asks, genuinely interested.

  “Everything.” Her eyes widen. “When Kyle and I walked in, it was empty. It was as if we were the only two people in the world. I think we both knew it was where we were supposed to pledge our lives to one another. Although neither of us said anything about it until we were engaged.”

  “Middlesbrough,” Jon adds thoughtfully. “I think there’s a modern art museum there. Yeah, it was designed by Erick van Egeraat.” He bounces his leg to get my attention. “You’ll have to make a day trip there or something. I want pictures.”

  “Jon knows everything,” I say with a smile.

  “I might be a bit of an art and architecture junkie,” he says.

  “Well, then you’re dating the right girl,” Andrew says. “Do you go to school with her?”

  “I sort of used to,” Jon says.

  “They met at the Art Room,” Clara says.

  “Ahhh,” Andrew says. “The poor kid’s art school. I’m guessing one of your parents is an artist?”

  “My parents?” Jon laughs. “Not a chance.”

  “Well, then how’d you meet?”

  “I was a poor kid in Olivia’s class,” he says. “We shared a workspace. She shared her paints, too.”

  “Olivia?” Clara asks with a smirk. I ignore her, focusing on Andrew again, who looks embarrassed once he hears Jon’s answer.

  “Oh, man, I’m sorry,” he says as Maddie slaps him across the chest. “I didn’t mean anything by that. I just figured... never mind.”

  “It’s fine, Andrew. I might be poor, but I’m many other things, too. That word doesn’t define me.”

  “He’s going to go to Columbia,” I tell my cousins.

  Jon’s grasp tightens around my waist. “I hope to,” he corrects me. “Don’t jinx it.” He kisses my cheek. “Aren’t you finished with that marshmallow yet?” he says, changing the subject quickly.

  “Yeah,” I tell him, showing him the charred treat.

  “Here, Liv,” Clara says, handing me two chocolate and graham cracker sandwiches. Jon holds the stick steady while I assemble the s’mores.

  We hear a car pull up as soon as we take our first bites.

  “Is that your dad?” Jon mumbles, his mouth full. I listen for Dad’s car alarm chirp, and finally hear it. I nod my head as Jon starts to nudge me into a standing position. I find a paper plate, taking his snack and putting both of them on it, placing the plate on our chair.

  “We’ll be right back.”

  “Give me your hand, Olivia,” he says softly.

  “Don’t be nervous,” I tell him.

  “I’m not. Okay, I am. I can do this, though, with you here.”

  “It’s fine. He’s fine.”

  “I know, I talked to him yesterday morning. I just can’t help but think he may want a moment alone with me or something.”

  “What, you think he’s gonna rough you up or something?” I laugh, halfway to the back door.

  “Brandon?” he reminds me.

  “I heard he made an apology phone call to him, as well. He was invited back, too.”

  “That could be awkward.”

  “He’s not coming. He’s a coward. You’re not. See the difference?”

  He sighs heavily and nods, taking the handle, but not opening the door. I kiss him on the cheek for encouragement. He smiles and finally turns the handle and holds the door open for me. I grab two bottles of water out of the refrigerator and hand him one, then notice some groceries on the counter and start to unload the bags for my parents. Jon takes a seat at the bar.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Mom says as she walks in, kissing me on the cheek. “Jon, it’s nice to see you.” She hugs him, and I can tell he’s still unsure what to expect.

  “Thank you for the invitation.”

  “Is Dad with you?” I ask her.

  “Yeah, he’ll be here in a second. Are you two hungry? We’re just having sandwiches for lunch.”

  “I’m okay,” I tell her, looking at Jon.

  “We were just having s’mores,” he says.

  “Great.” She throws up her arms dramatically. “Good, healthy snack to start the day.”

  “Thank Chris, he started the fire.”

  “I’ll thank my brother later,” she says with a smile. “You’d think Anna would teach him better.”

  “They give Eli anything he wants, you know?”

  “So we should blame Eli, then,” Mom ponders.

  “He is a troublemaker...”

  “I see you made it here okay,” my dad says, finally joining us in the kitchen. He sets a present down on the bar in front of Jon. My boyfriend glances at it, noticing the tag that has his name on it.

  “Yes, sir.” Jon shakes his hand nervously.

  “And the car will be back around six. Does that still give you enough time with your family?”

  “Plenty of time, thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the invitation today.”

  “Contessa, were you surprised?” he asks me, then glances back at Jon. “Or couldn’t you keep a secret?”

  “No, sir, I did.” Jon swallows, and I can tell he thinks something bad is coming. My dad pats him on the back and sits down next to him.

  “It’s Jack.”

  “I was completely surprised, Dad, and I feared for his life.” I smile at Jon, who is struggling to breathe normally. The room is silent.

  “I apologize–” Dad says.

  “I’m sorry–” starts Jon. He motions for my dad to continue.

  “Things just got a little out of hand the other night.”

  “Yeah, the conversation kind of got away from me,” Jon admits with a blush.

  “I don’t want you to ever be afraid to talk to me, Jon,” Dad offers. “I’m normally much more reasonable than I was the other night. Even though you had some things to say that I wasn’t exactly ready to hear, I’d never want to discourage you from having an open line of communication with me. I know I should appreciate that. Not many fathers get that from their daughter’s boyfriend.”

  “Well, I think I was a little too open–for my own comfort level, at least.” He looks away and shuts his eyes briefly.

  “Just know I appreciate your honesty. I’m truly sorry for getting so angry.”

  “Your anger was understandable, though, sir. You got your point across clearly. Don’t worry.”

  My dad smiles a little and nods. “Again with the ‘sir’ bit?”

  “I’m sorry, Jack. That’s just the way I was brought up.”

  “Okay,” Dad hedges playfully. “Listen, we didn’t get to give you your gift the other night. We wanted to do it before all the family madness happens later today.”

  “It’s not necessary–”

  “We know,” Mom says. “We wanted to do this for you.”

  “Go ahead,” I encourage him. Jon picks up the package, a little caught off-guard by its weight.

  “I guess it’s not a shirt,” he says in jest, removing the bow and unfastening the tape from the ribbon.

&nb
sp; “Told you, Mom. Should have gone with clothes,” I tease her. We all watch anxiously for Jon to take the paper off. When he finally does, getting a peek of the packaging, he covers it up quickly.

  “I cannot take this.” He shoves the gift to my father. “No way.”

  “Jon–” Mom says.

  “It’s too much,” he says to my dad. “Too nice,” he adds to my mother. His eyes settle on mine as he shakes his head. “I can’t take it.”

  “We want you to have it,” I tell him.

  “You’ll need it next year,” Dad says. “You’ll want your own computer. You won’t want to work in those computer labs all night.”

  Mom chimes in, trying to be convincing. “Livvy says you spend most of your time at the library now, using theirs. You need your own.”

  “I was planning on buying one over the summer. Working to save the money. I’ll get one of my own,” he explains.

  “Well, now you don’t have to worry about that,” Mom says.

  Dad takes the rest of the wrapping off of the gift and opens the box. “We had it set up with the software we thought you’d need for papers, for your urban planning classes, too.”

  “Jacks knows some people on the board at Columbia, so he did a little research.”

  “But I haven’t even been accepted there yet,” Jon says, taking the computer out of the box and pressing the power button. He drags his fingers over the keys carefully as I move to stand behind him, admiring his new gift.

  “Jon, your scores will get you in,” my mom says.

  “Your second round scores? They’re unheard of,” Dad adds. “Columbia would be insane not to let you in.”

  “I just don’t want to jinx it,” my boyfriend says to my parents.

  “Your admittance isn’t based on luck, Jon,” Dad says.

  “I know,” he says with a sigh.

  “The password’s Livvy, with a capital L,” my dad tells him as Jon stares at the login screen. “Thought I’d make it easy for you, but I’d encourage you to change it to something more secure.”

  “Of course,” Jon says, typing my name on the keyboard. “I don’t know, guys.” He looks up, still unsure.

  “I know,” I tell him. “And it fits perfectly in your bag. We planned it.”

  “Yeah, I left that at your house–”

  “I have it upstairs. I was in a hurry the other morning and needed something to carry my stuff in.”

  “My mom’s going to freak.”

  “We asked your mother first,” Dad says. “She finally said it was okay. She knows you’ve needed one for a long time. And when she realized that meant you’d be home more often for your brothers, she knew it was a good thing.”

  “Wow,” Jon whispers. “I’m not sure how I could ever repay you,” he says.

  “You won’t need to.”

  “I will, though. I’ll think of something someday, and I will. I’ll consider this a loan or something. It’s the only way I can accept it.”

  “Jon–”

  “Please, Jack. A long-term loan. Can we just consider it that for now? I’d feel a lot better about it.”

  “Alright. But I’ll never ask for anything in return.”

  “Okay,” Jon says. “But I’ll make it up to you some day.”

  “Actually,” Dad says. “I’ll ask one thing of you. Please don’t ever hurt my little Contessa.”

  “Dad,” I say, embarrassed.

  “Never,” Jon answers quickly. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “Okay.” My dad and boyfriend shake hands before Dad angles the computer toward himself and starts showing Jon some of the things it can do. After a half hour or so, my aunts and uncles start arriving, and before we know it, the house is swimming in Christmas chaos. Jon puts the computer safely in its box and we take it upstairs to my room, setting it with his bag.

  “I can’t believe they did that,” he says as we linger in my room.

  “I think they really like you as a person, Jon,” I tell him. “Dad may hate you as my boyfriend, but they know you’re a good person.”

  “Well, I hope they start to see the good boyfriend side of me, too.” I walk over to him and put my arms around him. “This is not me being a good boyfriend, stealing away with you, alone in your bedroom, by the way.”

  “One kiss,” I urge him.

  “I can’t deny you that,” he says with his lips merely inches from mine. We kiss softly until we hear a pack of footsteps running noisily up the stairs.

  The afternoon passes too quickly. I can’t believe the day’s already gone by when the driver knocks on the door shortly after six. After Jon once again thanks my parents and tells the rest of my family goodbye, I walk him out to the patio. The driver waits, holding the door for him.

  “Do you have to go?” I ask him. I know the answer, but it doesn’t make it easier to let him go.

  “Yeah, you know I do. Ho ho ho, and all that. Plus, Mom’s working tonight at ten.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yeah. Good tips, she says.”

  “So you really are Santa. Oh, wait here.” I run back into the house, into the kitchen and find the tin of cookies tucked above the refrigerator, away from greedy hands. When I return, Jon has placed his gifts into the backseat. “I guess these are all yours, then, Mr. Claus.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank you for helping with them. Sorry we’ve deprived you of them for days.”

  “I’ll share them with Max and Will.”

  “You better. I made one special for each of them.” Jon frowns a little, but his eyes are playful. “There might be one for you, too. No, don’t look! Look later. But before you give them to your brothers. Just not now,” I ramble.

  “Alright, alright,” he says as he pulls me into his arms one last time. “Oh, I forgot to ask you. What are you doing for New Year’s Eve?” He bites his lip in anticipation, and I can tell he has something great planned.

  I shake my head slightly. “Um, nothing–”

  “Great, do you think your parents would let you come to–”

  “No,” I answer, cutting him off. “No, they wouldn’t.”

  “But I didn’t even say what I wanted to do yet.” He laughs at my quick response, misunderstanding me.

  “I don’t go out on New Year’s Eve,” I tell him.

  “Well, of course not, you could never date–”

  “No, Jon, it’s by choice.”

  “Oh.” He looks at me curiously. “Well, you could just come over to my apartment. My brothers will be there. Mom won’t have to pay for a sitter if we’re there.”

  “I can’t,” I explain.

  “You mean you’re not leaving your house at all,” he finally says, understanding. I nod. “Why not?”

  “That was the night of the accident,” I tell him.

  “I’m not following. What accident?”

  “The one that killed Nate.”

  “Oh,” he says softly, still confused. “For your mom?” he asks.

  “Kind of, yeah. They never go out, either. They have people over. I mean, you could probably come to my place. It’s never, like, a big party. It’s normally really low key. Chris and Anna come over. Sometimes Granna and James come. But, yeah, we don’t leave the house.”

  “Okay,” he says as he shakes his head. The driver finally gets into the car and closes his door. “I guess that’s my cue.” He raises his eyebrows and sighs.

  “I mean it, you’re welcome to come over. I’m sure my parents won’t mind.”

  “I’ll think about it,” he says. “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “You wouldn’t be–”

  “It sounds really personal, Liv. Really, I’m not sure.”

  “It’s okay,” I urge him. “I’d love to have you there.”

  “I’ll call you tonight after my brothers go to bed. You’ll be up?”

  “No one sleeps on Christmas Eve at my house. I’ll be up.” I smile at him. “I’ll miss you.”

  ?
??I’ll see you soon,” he says. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas.” He kisses my cheek before getting in the car and closing the door. I watch as the car heads down the drive, waving at him just in case he’s watching through the darkly tinted windows. Five minutes later, as I’m grabbing a soda and getting ready for our Christmas Eve feast, I get a text message.

  “This is utterly morbid, Liv.”

  “I know, it’s great, right?”

  “Zomb-ivia?”

  “Did you see my arm? It probably fell in between some other cookies, but it’s there.”

  “No, I see it. There’s a bone jutting out of it.”

  “Nice touch, huh?”

  “You’re crazy, Zomb-ivia. I just ate your arm.”

  “Tasty?”

  “Of course. Thanks, Liv. I’ll cherish the rest of it until the Zombpocolypse.”

  “Awesome.”

  “You’re awesome.”

  “I know,” I respond to him, letting my cousins go ahead of me in the buffet line. Andrew threatens to take my phone away. “Please come on NYE.”

  He waits a few minutes before he responds, giving me time to serve myself and find a seat in the living room. “I’d love nothing more than to start the new year with you.”

  “So you’ll come?”

  “I’ll be there. Just make sure your mom says it’s okay. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

  “Mom?” I say to my mother, who’s just taken her seat on the couch next to me. She sets down a plate of food for my brother on the coffee table.

  “Trey, come get your food,” she says to him. He’s playing with his wooden cars with Stevie and Daniel. “Yeah?” she asks me, putting her napkin in her lap.

  “Can Jon come spend New Year’s Eve with us?”

  She looks unsure, starting to speak but then closing her mouth again. She smiles at me.

  “What’s up?” Dad says, settling in next to Mom.

  “Livvy just asked if Jon could come over on New Year’s Eve.”

  He looks at her curiously but doesn’t hesitate with his answer. “You can’t be his driver, Liv, but he’s more than welcome to come.”

  “Is that okay with you?” I ask my mother.

  “Of course.”

  “You don’t have to act differently around him, Mom. He’d want you to be real.”