Back to December

Fourteen

    We spent our entire day in the kitchen, baking way too many cookies for just us, Christmas music playing on the radio as we all worked around the small kitchen. By the time evening rolled around, our house smelt like a bakeshop, and we were all way too tired to cook any dinner. So dad went and grabbed Chinese take-out instead. We used to do this all the time with the Olivers. Chinese food on Christmas eve was one of the many traditions we'd had with them.

    "Alright, everyone," Nikki stands from the dining room table once dinner is finished, "I have a little surprise for everyone in the living room..."

    "A surprise?" Mom asks, shocked that she didn't know about it. We all follow behind Nikki into the living room. It'd been cleaned up since this morning, the couch cushions back on the couch. Under the tree, there were presents, all wrapped in different coloured wrapping papers. Instead of buying one colour of paper and putting everyone's names on gifts, we've always gotten a different coloured wrapping paper for each person. A rainbow of colours shown under the tree, making it appear bright and fun-looking, something I absolutely adored when I was Skye's age.

    We all disperse around the living room as Nikki begins handing out the packages. She gotone for each of us. Even the twins have tiny boxes wrapped in pastel blue and pink. I don't need to open it to know what was inside. This was always Nikki and Toms thing. They'd get us PJs for Christmas Eve, and we'd take a family picture in the morning when the parents were all half-asleep, and us kids at the time were wide-eyed and full of energy. She used to scrapbook all the pictures. She had an entire book dedicated to just our PJ photos.

    I wonder if she's updated it during the last five years?

    "Okay," Nikki claps her hands, once she's handed all the packages out, "you can open them."

     We all tore the paper open in unison.  Beneath the wrapping was a pair of plaid PJ pants with red, green, and black stripes. The top was a white fuzzy hoodie that was cropped.

     "These are adorable," Lizzie squealed, holding up the twin's PJs. They're onesies and the same pattered plaid as the rest of ours. On the front, in cursive, it said my first Christmas, "thank you so much, Nikki."

    "I missed this," Harper tells the woman, holding her PJs, which were identical to mine, tightly in her arms "mom and dad have been doing PJ shopping the last few years, and they always go the day of. So, we get stuck with the reject PJs."

    Nikki laughed. Wyatt and her both have such similar smiles. The kind of smile that takes over your entire face, her eyes squinting together happily. The sort of smile that makes you smile in return, "I'm glad you like them," She nods, "now go change. Santa is coming soon."

    At the mention of Santa, Skye jumps to her feet, clutching her PJs tightly in her arms, "Santa won't come if we're still awake. Come on, people." She orders us all, rushing out of the living room and up the stairs.

    When I was a kid, I'd try staying up to catch a peek of Santa. Skye was the opposite, though. She went to bed early and without a complaint. She didn't want Santa to skip over our house because she was awake. Mom and dad were grateful for it. When Harper and I were kids, they'd have to wait hours for us to fall asleep to put out our gifts from Santa. With Skye, they were able to put them out so much earlier.

    We all follow Skye up the stairs, splitting up to change into our PJs. They're the perfect fit. I always have a hard time buying pants; my legs are long, so most of the time, my pajama pants look like a pair of capris. These fit perfectly though like Nikki had got them hemmed just for me.

    I begin putting the outfit I'd been wearing previously away when someone knocks on my bedroom door, so gentle I barely heard it. Wyatt's waiting at my door when I open it. His hands shoved in the pockets of his plaid PJ pants. Unlike mine, his aren't tapered at the ankles, and instead of the fluffy sweatshirt, he wears a white t-shirt.