A SENSE OF DÉJÀ VU washes over me as I stare at Emery’s front door. This time I’m a whole new level of nervous and my sweaty palms are holding a bottle of wine and a case of beer.
What does the last minute guest bring to a Christmas dinner? Booze to make them forget you’re the last minute, pity guest.
Everything on the walk up to the house is the same as last time, aside from the slew of cars already around the driveway. The door has a huge dark green wreath with a red plaid bow hanging in the center.
I told Emery that it’d be fine meeting her family and while that’s true, there’s still a lot of pressure. I really like this girl and I want her family to really like me.
I want them to see something that my parents never did. For them to see more than just a surfer.
Before I can knock, a small, lithe body slips in front of me, blocking the door. She’s holding two big bags of presents that seem to outweigh the body holding them. “Hi, Bash!”
Nori is decked the hell out in Christmas attire. Oversized sweater with a crocheted Santa face on it and leggings decorated with reindeer. They look like sweater material—how is she not dying? It’s a decent eighty-six degrees out right now with a side of hella humid.
Around her neck is a long necklace of flashing Christmas bulbs that are blinking to a silent Christmas tune. To round out her outfit she’s wearing gray fuzzy boots.
Has no one told the girl she lives in Florida?
Her smile is blinding and I return it with ease.
“Hey, Nori.” I motion toward her bags. “Let me take that for you.”
“Thanks.” She hands one of them over and I grab it, wrapping the strings around my fingers while I try not to drop the bottle of wine. Jesus, the thing is heavier than it looks. “Why aren’t you inside?” she asks, looking from the door to me.
Coal. I’ve come to the conclusion she’s gifting everyone coal for Christmas and that is why my fingers are bending backwards in pain.
“I was about to knock when—”
“Bash, if you want to be a part of this family—” I really hope she doesn’t say that in front of Emery. Even joking, my girl is likely to spook. “—there’s a little rule you should know. We don’t knock. Yep, it’s true. Emery and I don’t know how. We lack manners. Raised by wolves, as our grandparents say.” She puts her hand on the doorknob, but doesn’t open it. “So as long as you’re with us, you don’t have to knock either. Rules don’t apply from here on out, okay?” She doesn’t wait for me to nod before she’s pushing the door open. “Come on.”
She’s a lot more talkative today, I note as I follow her in. Usually, the Nori I’ve come to know is more subdued, a little sassy like her cousin, but not as talkative. At least not to me.
I figured she was shy, but maybe she’s warmed up to me. Or maybe she’s not as tired in the middle of the day as she is at night.
“Does anyone know why I found a famous surfer outside digging through your trash?” Nori says by way of announcement as we walk into the kitchen. Her words go unheard as attention is divided elsewhere.
Emery’s mom is standing over the stove while Ren hovers by the food placed on the bar. He tries to grab a hotdog wrapped in a puff pastry, but his wife smacks him on the head, shooting him a look. He holds up his hands while leaning in to kiss her. Grinning as he does it.
“Was Ren looking for a snack again?” a tall man asks. “We all know he doesn’t have enough food in his actual house.”
The new guy has intense features, a smiling face and dark eyes. He has a receding hairline, but the hair he still has is dark, almost black. There’s something about him that looks familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.
Ren Lawson—I still can’t believe we’re in the same room, but I’m trying to contain the fanboy, as Emery likes to call it.
Be cool, Cleaton, be cool.
Ren laughs at what the other man says, mumbling something I don’t catch. He looks toward his niece and me—standing on the outskirts of the kitchen, before frowning. “Want to tell me why my niece is showing up with my daughter’s boyfriend and not her mother?”
Nori walks over, hugging her uncle as he kisses the top of her head. “Two of the nurses scheduled didn’t show up, so mom got called in. She sends her love.”
Emery’s mom pulls away from the stove long enough to hug Nori and say, “I’m just glad you still came, sweetie. You’re too busy and push yourself too hard.”
“Please tell me you took today off from training at least. I know your coach doesn’t work during the holidays,” Ren adds.
Nori looks down at her feet, shyness overcoming her, before looking back up with a smile. “Just don’t try and stuff me with food. I’m on a new meal plan.”
Ren shakes his head. “You’re too skinny. Have you been eating the right amount of calories?”
“I am now. My nutritionist made an error and she now has me on the right track.”
“You work too hard for a teenager.”
“And here I thought everyone hates on Millennials and their lack of work ethic.”
“You’re not a normal teenager, Nori,” Ren reminds her. I feel like an intruder in this conversation, but I have no idea where else to go. So I guess I’ll continue to stand awkwardly on the outskirts, holding gifts that aren’t from me and the alcohol that is from me. “Not that there’s anything wrong with your generation, because there’s not. You’re training for the Olympics though, and that takes a certain dedication and discipline that even a lot of adults lack.”
She shrugs, looking down again.
Em’s mom looks up, coming out of her cooking haze long enough to see that I’m also in the kitchen.
“Oh, Bash!” She rushes over to me, apologizing for her spacey head and saying something about the sweet potatoes not cooperating. She pulls me into a hug that I’m not expecting. “We’re so glad you’re here!”
“Thank you for having me,” I tell her sincerely and hold out the wine and beer as best I can.
“Bash, you didn’t have to bring anything!” She grins and takes both from me, putting them in the fridge so they can chill.
I smile sheepishly at her, not bothering to tell her I did, and rub the back of my neck. They’re the ones taking this misfit in today. They deserve a lot more than alcohol.
The thought of spending Christmas by myself is sadder than I want to admit. Despite my parents lacking warmth, I’ve always spent Christmas with them and really didn’t want to spend it by myself.
“What about you, Bash?” Ren looks at me and my attention snaps to him. Ren fucking Lawson. “Are you taking the holidays off?”
I shake my head. “No, sir.” I rub the back of my neck again with my free hand. “I took today off, but that’s it. I’m supposed to be on vacation, but I’ve been pushing myself harder than I have in years.”
I don’t mention that his daughter is part of the reason for that. She gives me shit when she feels like I’m slacking.
He nods as footsteps come down the stairs. Emery, Brit, and Geer pop up next to me from a staircase I didn’t see.
Emery’s dressed in a similar way to Nori, similar crochet ugly Christmas sweater, leggings and fuzzy boots. My girl is beaming.
Seriously, did no one tell these ladies they live in Florida?
She bounces on her feet to kiss me on the cheek. “Mistletoe!”
I look up and Brit’s holding a small plastic piece of holly above my head, her camera dangling around her neck by a thick strap.
“Merry Christmas, babe!” Still standing on her toes, she wraps me in a hug. One I return one-armed because of the presents.
“Merry Christmas, Firecracker,” I whisper in her ear, hoping her parents aren’t watching.
“Oh!” Nori comes over, taking the bag out of my hand. “I’ll go put these under the tree.”
Em pulls away, only to grab my hand to bring me further into the kitchen as more people walk in. Open-mouthed, I stare at one of them.
No fucking way.
What kind of Christmas miracle is this?
“Dude.” Emery laughs, drawing my attention onto her. “Close your mouth.”
She doesn’t wait for me to listen before her hand is under my chin, pushing it up.
“Dude,” I parrot in a whisper. “Mick Michaelson just walked into your kitchen.”
She laughs, not bothering to whisper back. “That’s my Uncle Mick.”
She turns to everyone, clapping her hands together while I’m still trying to process her words. “Attention guests of the Lawson household! Introductions are to be made!”
Everyone looks at her, all wearing similar expressions of wariness, but Geer’s the only one to ask, “How much of that “water” did you drink upstairs?” He makes air quotes around the word “water.”
“A hundred percent just water, Jackson, but thank you for your concern.” She nods to him. “We might know everyone here, but sweet, little Bash here doesn’t.”
Never in my life has anyone referred to me as sweet or little. Maybe someone did when I was a baby, but that doesn’t count. And Emery has some personal knowledge of how not little and sweet I actually am.
I pinch her side, a silent promise to remind her of those things later tonight when we’re alone.
She swats my hand away without looking at me.
“So, yeah. Everyone meet Bash. Bash meet everyone.” She points to her mom, who waves her spoon at me, telling Emery we’ve already hugged. “You already know my dad, Ren, because you were drooling over him last time.”
I groan, but she’s not entirely off. Ren shakes my hand again. “You sure you want to put up with my daughter?”
“Absolutely.” I smile down at her. “She makes life fun.”
He nods, like he’s digging my answer. I still get the feeling he doesn’t like me all that much and I don’t know if it’s because I’m dating his only child or if it’s because I’m a surfer, a bad influence since he thinks Emery doesn’t surf.
It’s probably a combination of both.
I’m going to corrupt his daughter in more ways than one. Please fucking Lord, don’t have mind reading abilities. I keep my eyes on Ren for a few moments, waiting to see if he does.
His expression doesn’t change and my breathing comes easier.
The next person Emery introduces me to is the man that looks vaguely familiar. “That’s Jason, Brit and Geer’s dad.” Ah, that’s why.
Jason shakes my hand, squeezing it a little too firmly. “Be careful with my goddaughter.”
I nod. Next, Emery introduces me to Brit’s mom, April, who, like Em’s mom, hugs me. April looks like a mirror into the future for Brit. Dark hair, soft features, and gray eyes.
And then there is only one more person left to introduce. “Mick, meet Bash, who, as you saw, idolizes you like he does Dad.”
“You know, you could at least pretend not to notice when I freak out over surf legends casually chilling in your house,” I mumble to her.
“Where’s the fun in that?”
Mick steps forward, shaking my hand. He’s the most chill of the three men. “I saw your last competition. You got talent, kid.”
What?
“Mick,” Emery groans, but there’s a light in her eyes. “We want him social for today. We can’t have him frozen like this.”
My mind can’t process anything aside from Mick Michaelson’s words replaying over and over in my head.
You got talent, kid
You got talent, kid
Along with Ren, Mick is one of my huge influences for getting into surfing. One of my big inspirations. I remember watching documentaries on Ren and Mick and Jason—another reason why Jason looks familiar clicks in my head.
They made and sold a few documentaries. The first was of them surfing up the East and West coasts. The second was chasing waves around the world. I grew up watching them.
My bucket list includes surfing up one of the coasts because of their movie and now I’m in a room with all three of them.
Before I can say anything, Emery pulls on my hand, dragging me out of the kitchen, laughing as she says, “We’re headed to the patio. Bash needs some non-oldie surfer air to breathe.”
No one follows, but the laughs do.
She pulls me down on one of the patio couches. “You’re such a dork.”
I don’t feel like a dork. I feel like a tool. “You know I’m not with you because of who your dad is, right?”
We’ve talked about it in the past, but after the way I acted around him and her family friends, I want to make sure. I’m a fucking goober around them.
“I know, Bash.” She runs her hand down my arm, putting her palm on the top of my hand, linking our fingers together. “If that was even a question in my mind, you wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Just making sure.” I turn my hand over so our palms connect. “If it helps at all, I’m pretty sure your dad hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you,” she reassures. I don’t believe it. “He’s protective, there’s a difference. He just doesn’t know what to make of us.”
I wait for her to explain, even though I have an idea as to what she means.
“The morning I came back from our first date—super awkward, by the way, coming home and having your parents know exactly what happened. Ten out of ten would not recommend.” She shakes her head. “They told me that they didn’t know how they felt about me being with you, my dad more so than mom, but still. It’s not even because of your personality, but because of your job. Because you’re a surfer, dad thinks you’ll be a trigger for me to start my hobby again.”
Her voice catches and I pull her closer to me, leaning back, and she tucks her legs under her body. It takes her a few moments before she starts speaking again. “A fucking hobby. Like he wasn’t talking about me following in his footsteps when I was growing up. I have to tell them, Bash, but I don’t want them to think it’s because of you.”
“You’ve been surfing a lot longer than you’ve known me, Em. How many years has it been?”
“My whole life. You saw who was in my kitchen. I live in a surfing world. My parents just like to pretend I’ve never been a part of it.”
“Why?”
“After everything that happened, I wasn’t Emery Lawson, daughter of surf legend, with her own talent for the sport. I was now Emery Lawson, a fragile and damaged girl. They don’t see me as a nineteen-year-old. They still see me as the girl who got attacked by sharks and had a panic attack right when she tried to go back in the water after getting discharged from the hospital.”
“Em—” She shakes her head, cutting me off.
“That’s why I haven’t told them, Bash. A part of me believes them. When they stopped believing I could come back from my accident, so did I. I didn’t go in the water for a year.” She shakes her head, the movement slow and sad. “A huge part of me missed the water so much that I decided it was time to go back. But it’s been so long since I’ve actually trained that even if I want to try and go pro, I don’t know if I can. What if it’s too late?”
“You won’t know that until you try,” I tell her. I’m not one for feeding the ego just because. Any professional sport is hard and challenging to achieve, but Emery has a lot of drive; she has the dedication, and the discipline, to go after her dream. She also has connections, which I know she won’t use. She’s too independent to rely on others. If she’s going to earn this, it’ll be because of her own merit.
I want her to make it on her own, too. Without my name having any sway like her dad’s will.
“Are your Christmases usually this deep?” She wipes under her eyes, as trickles of tears still pool under her lids. “I swear this wasn’t what I planned when I invited you over. I just—well, I just had to tell you all that.”
“I’m glad you did.” I kiss the top of her head softly as my thumbs wipe away the droplets of tears escaping down her cheeks.
She pulls back and wipes away her tears. “Before I turn sappy, I have something to give you.”
Fuck. I was so nervous leaving my house I forgot her gift on my kitchen counter. Fuck. “Don’t.”
Emery makes a face at my abrupt, hard tone. I explain, “I forgot your present and I don’t want you to give me mine until I can give yours to you.”
“Who said it was a gift?”
“Well shit.”
Emery starts to smile, but her eyes dart over my shoulder. “We’re about to have company within the next fifteen seconds.”
I follow her line of sight and see Nori, Brit, Geer, and—“Is that Xavier?”
“I didn’t invite him,” Emery says, but with a smile, she calls out as the door opens, “What are you doing here and where is your sister? I like her face better.”
They all walk closer, taking claim to various pieces of patio furniture.
“Too bad for you, she’s traveling with her boyfriend.” Xavier sits on one of the chairs. “So, I guess you’ll have to settle for me.”
“What are you doing here?” Emery asks again, still with a steady smile on her face.
Xavier leans down to hug her, which she returns with a tight vigor. When they pull away, he holds out his knuckles to me and we knuckle touch.
“The lovely Anora invited me,” he explains and Emery stiffens under my arm. “Your kindhearted cousin took pity on a friend with no family in the tri-county area since his sister decided to go backpacking. I brought brigadeiro. So, Merry Christmas. I got you the gift of food and me. You’re welcome.”
“Just what I always wanted.” Brit grins.
“Except with a bow somewhere on you,” Emery adds.
“Do you know where you want the bow, Anora?” He wiggles his eyebrows at her.
Nori blushes, shooting him a look.
Emery makes a sound in the back of her throat, like she’s choking.
Xavier winks at her. She glares back.
Brit looks like she wants popcorn as she looks between them.
And Geer’s on his phone.
“Over your mouth would be lovely.” Nori leans back in her chair. “Then you wouldn’t call me by my full name. Especially when you know I hate it.”
“But then how can I get you to acknowledge me if I don’t anger you?”
“Uh, I invited you,” Nori reminds him. “Pretty sure we talk the most.”
Emery and Brit are watching Nori and Zay like a tennis match, with rapt attention and intense interest.
I don’t get it.
“Dude, what the hell is on your phone?” I ask Geer. Every time I see him, he’s glued to the device. I’m starting to think it’s surgically attached to his hand.
“Porn,” Geer deadpans. But none of us can tell if he’s serious. His voice is always monotone.
“Ewww,” Brit recoils away, even though she’s sitting far from him, next to Nori on the couch. “Don’t ask him those questions ever again, Bash. There are some things a sister doesn’t need to know.”
“Just like a brother doesn’t want to listen to you having phone sex with Daimon?” Geer shudders, as if reliving the horror.
“We were not having phone sex,” Brit protests, a slight blush creeps across her cheeks as her hands white-knuckle her camera. “He was simply calling to wish me a Merry Christmas Eve.”
“Since when do you moan Dez’s name as a thank you to that?”
“You had phone sex with Dez and didn’t tell me?” Emery pulls away, turning her back towards me to face her friend.
“You hate Dez.”
“Noooo,” Emery protests, dragging out the word. “We’re not friends and I hate what he puts you through, but as long as he’s what you want, I support you. Only you. Okay, maybe I hate him,” she concedes. “I still need to be updated about this, though!”
“What? Like telling me you had sex with Bash this morning when I came over instead of when it happened?” Brit challenges and all of us are watching with rapt attention. Except for Geer, who’s tinkering on his phone, probably wanting to cut off his ears right now. “You didn’t even send me a snap of that one song after it happened.”
“I was a little busy passing out after it happened. Excuse me for being exhausted.”
Is it wrong to take some pride in that? Because I totally do.
“Wait,” Nori jumps in. “You had sex with Bash? Were you ever going to tell me, your cousin?”
“Of course,” Emery tells her. “But I know you, and you’d ask for details and I didn’t want to tell you all the kinky stuff we did. I want you to forever look at me as the pure, angelic older cousin.”
“I’ve never looked at you like that, cousin.”
“Shhh, don’t ruin it for me.” Emery juts out her lips dramatically, putting her index finger in front of them.
Where’s that damn mistletoe now?
Xavier leans forward in his seat, his elbows resting on his thighs. “I don’t know, Em. Don’t discredit Nori. You don’t know what kind of shit she could be into.”
“Can you talking about sex and my cousin just not go together?” Emery’s body shakes. “It’s unnatural.”
“Actually,” he points out, “It’s completely natural. Animalistic, if you will.”
“How about we talk about something else?” I suggest. I foresee this conversation ending one of two ways. Either Emery jabs her thumb into Xavier’s eye to make him stop talking about Nori. Or Nori melts into her chair from blushing so hard.
For an athlete who is training for the Olympics, she turns shy when the spotlight or topic of discussion revolves around her.
I get Emery’s protective side, you just want to wrap Nori up in bubble wrap and keep her in your pocket.
Is that weird or have I been hanging out with Emery for too long and am starting to sound like her?
I thought that wasn’t supposed to happen for another few years.
Or maybe that’s looking like her.
“Geer,” Emery calls, but the surly guy doesn’t pick up his head. “Distract me from Xavier’s weird flirting with Nori.”
“Like how my phone is blowing up with articles of The Return of Lawson’s Legacy and the Hotshot Surfer has been found in the Sunshine State?” Geer holds his phone screen out toward us.
Emery and I both freeze and my heartbeat skips. Brit looks panicked, while Nori and Xavier look confused.
“What does that mean?” Nori asks. It might be rhetorical, but I answer.
At least, I think I do. My mouth is moving, words are coming out, but I can barely hear them as I say, “It means my vacation is about to be over and Emery’s secret just got shared way before she was ready to tell any of you.”