Lance told me everything 2 weeks ago. Honestly? I can tell she's beginning to pull away from him, minuscule bit by minuscule bit to make it almost unnoticeable to him. It's the day before Christmas Eve and I just finished my Christmas shopping with Tyler. "I fucking hate Christmas shopping, hate it with such a damn passion. You think the baby is done?" my brother comments, turning a turquoise pair of dress boots over in his hands and checking the details.
"Knowing her, she just grabbed the last one yesterday." I spot a hard to find Beanie Baby across the hall in another shop. "Which one was she looking for again?" I ask him, nodding to the store.
"You mean ones," he corrects. "Um, Valentino, the Princess bear, the zodiac ones and the astrology ones. The zodiac and astrology ones, she needs duplicates of specific ones. She didn't tell me which ones, but she said they'd be for birthdays." He puts the boots back on the shelf and he quickly thumbs at the other store.
"We can just grab 3 of each of those ones," I say, leading the way to the shelf decorations the baby loves so much. She has over 1500 of the things and has drilled in all our minds what marking a real one has, almost laser inscribed on our brains.
Tyler is looking at the stuffed things, picking up a very ugly dog and shows me. "A dog only its mom and owner could love," he says, grimacing. I take it and prove my instinct right, educating him that it's a fake one. "So, this tag shouldn't be on it?"
"No, it's false advertisement."
Tyler grabs it and walks off to find an employee, livid. "I could give two shits less, I demand to talk to your manager right now!" I hear him scream.
I go over as a man in his late twenties or early thirties comes over, arriving seconds after me. "What seems to be the issue?" he asks.
"This is false advertisement!" Tyler shouts, tossing the stuffed dog at him.
"Isn't it a real one?"
"Who the fuck are you kidding?" I sneer.
"Explain how you gentlemen would know."
"Our baby sister is obsessed with them and engraved the details on the real ones in our brains," I bite, informing the asshole of the markings.
"Show me."
He's a demanding little money hungry bastard. I grab a BB and demonstrate the differences. "So, fuck yourself and I know the Ty Beanie Baby company doesn't make ugly ones," I snap.
"Here's a $120 giftcard to the store and it doesn't expire."
I end up spending over $500 on all of the ones they had, along with duplicates and leaving the jackass with only the fake one (excluding ones she has already). "This is from us and Heather."
"If you say so. That was kick ass how we just got 30% off the purchase and a free $120 giftcard for the place? Thanks to your minor freak out," Tyler laughs.
"Heh, anything for my family and friends, especially the baby." A smile creeps across my face and I swear it feels as if my face may split at the corners of my mouth.
"You realize she's getting spoiled rotten and on top of what you, your group, Wade, her other friends and we get her that her boyfriend's choreographer is dropping more off tomorrow night?"
"Yes, half of what she's getting from Fatima, she gets the rest when she sees fucktard."
"Justin told me she flat out told him she wouldn't see him till the new year."
"That she did and in front of us to boot."
"When did she say she'd see him?"
"Didn't say exactly."
"Think she's staying until after her birthday?"
"Most likely going to stay till at least the day after, I'm not worried too much about it." I shrug and exit the mall, heading for my old Jeep.
"You're not worried out of your mind?"
"No, she's here with us and I don't worry as much when she's around me."
It's Christmas eve and Jazz being who she is, exhausted herself shopping and decorating. She's been singing her Christmas song-filled heart out, doing most of the decorating.
She's been on the phone all day with either Lance or a family member. She's been gabbing away in Gaelic or Op-Top, leaving me clueless from the speed she's been saying everything.
She went to bed 45 minutes ago, sometime around 8:30. Fatima comes in half an hour or so and I'll take a nap right here in the recliner. A knock wakes me a little while later and I answer the door, unbelievably groggy. I look through the peephole, confirming it's Fatima and let her in. "Thanks, JC. AJ demanded that half the gifts come here."
"No problem," I say, watching her enter the house and set out the gifts. "I have a question."
"What's on your mind, hon?" Fatima asks, never breaking her focus.
"Who are all these from?"
"The Boys, Aaron and myself, it's only a third of them."
"Oh? Why so many?"
"There's seven of us that bought them and we all kind of went crazy about it."
She stands up, checking if she likes how the gifts are sorted and turns to me. She gives me a warm hug and smiles. "Thanks, Fatima."
"Anything for your sister. I also got you guys each a gift, including your family and there are eleven extra gifts for you, your band, Wade and your family. I tried to be fair, I marked them from 'Fatima & The Boys'."
I smile back, grateful Jazz got so close to all of us. "Thank you and Merry Christmas," I say. "You can extend that to the Boys and their families."
"I will. You're welcome and Merry Christmas to all of you, too."
She leaves and I reflect on all the shit we've been through in the past year or two, heading for my bed in the process. "It's been crazy, but enjoyable," I conclude, climbing into my pjs and getting under the covers.
"Oshai! Wake up! Wake up!" she screams, jumping on my bed.
I look at the clock and groan. "Sam, it's 7:30 in the morning," I complain.
"It's Christmas morning! Did you see all those presents?! Holy moly, there's so freaking many! Get up! C'mon! We have got to get down there and open 'em all!" she raves. Yes, she's like a kid when it's Christmas morning and mellows out throughout the day.
"Joshua, get up," I hear my mom demand.
"She woke us all up 15 minutes ago," dad informs me.
"Please, please, please?!" she begs, pulling on my hands and giving me the sad puppy dog eyes.
"Alright, ok, I'm getting up. Move it. Go, go, get down there," I respond, shooing her away and motioning to the stairs.
She jumps off my bed and races Tyler down the stairs, no doubt sitting in front of the tree. She's most likely jittering, impatiently waiting for everyone and staring at the gifts. I slowly walk down the steps and have my suspicions confirmed. I sit on the couch closest to the two of them and stretch.
"This one is yours," mom says, handing a gift to Tyler.
"From 'Fatima & the Boys'?"
"Yeah, she wanted to be fair and got each of us a gift," I explain.
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