Done Adulting Vol. 1 Ch. 118

“How are we supposed to decorate it,” Jamie asked as he stared up at the tree that stood a head taller than Becky. The Christmas tree lot was run by a group raising money for some good cause, and it seemed the men volunteering to staff it were divided by age: those under thirty doing the work and those over thirty drinking around a fire and eating fattening meat hot off a grill. Jamie would have been happy to pull up a chair, but he was happier to be picking out his tree.

“With giant ornaments … Well, giant for you,” Becky replied.

“Will it even fit on the car?” His perception of the size of things still hadn’t adjusted to his new world. Everything seemed so big, sometimes impossibly so.

“Of course it will. You sure this is the one you want?”

“Yeah. I think so. Do you like it?”

“Yeah. This is our first tree.”

“Really?”

“Well, when you don’t have a little it’s just not that big of a holiday.”

“O. Where did Manda go anyway?”

“She’s flirting with one of the boys selling trees.”

“What!?!”

“You’re really gonna have to get over that, kiddo.”

“Maybe when she’s twenty-five,” Jamie grumped.

“Let’s go put him to good use at least. You can glare at him the whole time if you want,” Becky winked.

Jamie took her up on the offer while the boy got the tree on top of the car, and to emphasize what he could do that the boy couldn’t, Jamie tugged on Amanda’s pantleg. “I’m cold,” he whined in an extra pathetic voice.

“You are?” She picked him up and rubbed his back. “Well, we’re almost done here, and then we’ll go get some warm food in your tummy.” When tree boy had the tree secured, Becky paid him.

“Who wants dinner,” Becky ask. Her babies both responded with, “Me!” O’Donnell’s was just down the street. Becky and Amanda walked, while Jamie got carried. Walking through the door of the restaurant, they passed from the cold air into the warm and crowded restaurant, lit with the glow of winter and holiday cheer, voices and laughter merry with the spirit of friendship and a season of charity and amity. The edges of the ceiling were strung with white lights, and a small tree sat on top of the bar.

“Three please,” Becky said.

“Highchair or booster,” the hostess asked. Becky looked at Jamie, who shrugged.

“Whatever gets us a table faster,” Becky answered. She showed them to a booth and came back with a booster for Jamie, which she wedged in next to Becky.

“This is a bit snug,” he said after he’d been put into it.

“Wanna try my lap?”

“Yes, please.” Becky lifted him back out and set him on her lap.

“What looks good to you, baby?” Other than the Tex-Mex place, he’d eaten here more than anywhere else. He knew the menu by heart.

“The onion soup and the chicken sandwich.”

“Hungry?”

“Very. I’m a growing boy.”

“No, you’re not,” she said while tickling his belly, “But baby bears like you gotta bulk up for the winter.”

After they’d ordered and gotten their drinks, Amanda asked, “So you wanna get some presents for your friends, huh?”

“So you read my letter to Santa. So rude, but I’ll not make a scene,” he deadpanned. “I wanna get them each a gift, but I don’t know what to get them.”

“What do they like?”

“Ella likes art, and Rosie … likes … everything.”

“What if we went to an art supply store and picked out some things for Ella, and maybe we just need to go to the toy store for Rosie.”

“What about Cheryl?” That was the really hard one. Even if he could find some clothing appropriate for her to wear back home, a blouse or scarf or hat would be too little. On the other hand, jewelry, which wasn’t an option anyway, would be too much. And some knickknack just so she could take it home and put it on a shelf wasn’t right, either. His gift had to mean something.

“What if you made her something?” That seemed a particularly childish way to give someone a gift.

“Isn’t that a bit of a cop out?”

“A lot of littles make gifts for people.”

“Exactly, a lot of littles. I’m not a little to her. It should be something more substantial. Shouldn’t it?” Jamie had never had someone like Cheryl to give a gift to at Christmas.

“I don’t mean like scribbling a card. You got a few weeks. I bet you could make something really nice … You could draw her something. You’ve gotten really good at that. And we could put it in a frame.”

“What would I draw?” The idea was more appealing to Jamie when she put it like that.

“That part I think you need to work out for yourself.” Amanda knew, if nothing else, how complex Jamie’s relationship with Cheryl was, and she didn’t want to wade any farther into it.