I glance under the tree and see a bunch of neatly wrapped gifts. My stomach drops as Alice starts to hand them out, including two bags—one for me and one for Grammy.
I must have a look of panic on my face, because before I can say anything, Alice chimes in: “Now, please don’t worry about reciprocation. We know y’all didn’t plan to be here with us for the holiday. We had some extra goodies stashed away and wanted to make sure y’all felt welcome. It’s nothing fancy—just something sweet.”
“Well, thank you,” Grammy says, removing tissue paper from the gift and pulling out a dozen cookies wrapped in a glossy bag with Christmas unicorns on it.
“It’s our tradition,” Juniper says. “We make cookies for all our friends.”
“Delicious!” Grammy says, already dunking one into her coffee.
I open my bag of cookies and say a quiet thank-you as well. But I set it aside for later, because my stomach cannot handle any food right now.
The gift giving continues—Alice gives Mara an amethyst necklace, Mara gives Alice a print from some Chicago artist she loves, Juniper gives her moms a gift certificate for a couples massage at a local spa. Then Juniper opens up a gift from her moms—a new running set from Nike. Then there are small gifts from “Santa” under the tree: boxes of chocolates for everyone, socks, some homemade soap.
“Is that it?” Juniper says. “I’m getting hungry.”
“Amen,” Grammy Viv chimes in, as if this is her house.
“Well—hold on now. There’s supposed to be—ah yes. Here it is.”Alice brings out a big, heavy box from the back of the tree. “This is for you, honey. From me and your mom.”
Juniper takes the box and stares wide-eyed at it.
Mara leans forward from the couch. “Open it!” she squeals.
Juniper tears into the wrapping and is greeted with a generic brown box. “Wow, a box! I’ve always wanted one of these,” she jokes.
“Very funny,” Alice says, grinning. “Keep on opening it!”
Juniper uses a pair of scissors and slices the tape on the sides of the box. We all lean in as she pulls out something that looks like a big battery.
“Wait—you got me a portable power station… for Chloe?”
“Who’s Chloe?” Grammy asks me.
“Her car,” I whisper back.
“So—you know? About my gap-year plan?” Juniper says slowly.
“Now what on earth!” Alice is at Juniper’s side, looking at the box and the gift with an expression of total confusion on her face.
“That isnotthe right thing,” Mara adds, also towering over Juniper now to inspect. “Where’s the computer? Al—you didn’t check to make sure it was in there before you wrapped it?!”
“Well, obviously not. I just assumed it was what we ordered.”
Juniper’s eyes dart between her moms as they bicker, and then all of a sudden they go quiet and Mara says: “Wait—what gap year?”
Juniper looks at me. I give her another weak smile, and nod, hoping she does the right thing.
“Um—so, I think I know what happened here,” Juniper starts. “Thisissomething for me—but something I ordered.”
“What is it?” Alice says.
“It’s a portable power system—for my car.”
“Why on earth would you need that?” Mara asks, brow furrowing.
Juniper takes another big breath. “I was going to tell you afterthe holidays, but, uh—I’m not going to college in the fall. I’m going to live in Chloe, do a cross-country summer road trip and run in as many national parks as I can, then maybe work for the rest of the year. I’ve—uh, been saving and buying gear for this for a while now. I guess my package got mixed up with whatever package you thought you’d wrapped—”
The room is as still as an iced-over lake.
