After desert was served (damn I love crème brulée) everyone piled into the main family room where the Christmas tree was set up. I had found out a few days ago that John actually hired people to decorate the tree. As much as I thought that was a travesty and basically the least-Christmassy thing ever, the tree did look phenomenal. It was like something out of a magazine. Hell, the whole room was. Stockings hanging from the fireplace, a nativity scene on the mantle, it was almost creepy how much this room could have been a stock photo.
Jack stood by the far wall, the kids all piled in front of the tree looking for their presents, while everyone else found chairs and couches around the room to sit on. My mom sat next to John, her hand on his knee, smiling fondly at the kids as they excitedly started begging their parents to let them open gifts.
I sat down with a cup of tea – my first truly British habit, as sometimes coffee was just too much – and watched as the kids tore into their presents happily. Then, when they were finished and ushered into another room to play with their new finds by the nannies, the adults exchanged gifts as well.
My mom’s gift was a gorgeous set of diamond earrings, which glistened in the sunlight. From John I got a lovely Hermes scarf, and I knew my mom had helped him pick it out since it was the exact shade of turquoise that had been my favourite colour since I was a girl.
From the relatives I didn’t know I got the standard gift basket fare, and I was once again so thankful for Annie’s advice as I had the same for them: designer chocolates, expensive wine, that sort of thing.
Finally, I went over and gave Jack his bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue label. I’d found it at a liquor store, and the manager told me it was the most expensive one he had. I wasn’t going to do it, but Annie convinced me.
“After all, if you give him an awesome gift and he doesn’t have anything for you, he’ll owe you one.”
It turned out I was the one who owed him one, after how he defended me at lunch time, but I was still glad I’d gone with Annie’s suggestion.
“Is this for me? What did I do to deserve a gift from you?” Jack asked me, eying the package.
“Well, you’re my brother, and so I figured even though I don’t like you, I should still buy you something for Christmas.”
“You don’t like me, do you?” He lowered his voice, even though none of the others in the room were paying us any attention. “You sure do like what I do to you.”
My face went crimson and I looked around to make sure no one had been listening. At the same time, I felt a tug in the bottom of my stomach, towards my nether regions, and I knew I wanted more of the same. I wanted him again, I wanted him to make me feel the way he had a few weeks earlier in that library.
“Well, maybe if you weren’t a total asshole basically all the time, I’d be more inclined to like you. Though I did appreciate what you did for me at lunch with Amy. Thanks for defending me.”
“I didn’t do it for you. That stuck up bitch needed to be brought down a peg.”
“See, you say things like that, then you wonder why I don’t like you.”
“I don’t wonder why you don’t like me. I know why. I just think you’re wrong.”
“How am I wrong?”
“You’re wrong because you don’t know me, really.”
“Oh, don’t I?”
“Not at all.”
“Well, I can only make my decisions based on the person I see in front of me.”
“You don’t understand anything, and you never will. I don’t care whether you like me or not. I just don’t.”
“Fine. Well lucky for you, I don’t care what you think of me, either.”
“Good. It’s better that way. Thanks for the drinks.”
And with that Jack turned around and walked off, leaving me more confused about him than ever.