Nate looks intrigued. “Surely you two have exchanged gifts,” he says, looking between Marcela and Kellan. “What did you get each other?”
“You heard him,” Marcela snaps. “It’s too early.”
“I got Nate earmuffs,” Celestia chimes in. “They’re lined with fur.”
I die a little.
Marcela’s face turns red.
“The food must be ready by now!” I exclaim, jumping to my feet. “Why don’t we eat? I’m starving.”
Right on cue, the buzzer sounds and Kellan smiles. “Perfect timing. Let’s go get the food, sweetie.” He strokes Marcela’s hair and turns that gorgeous smile on her. It’s fake and awful and I feel nauseous.
“If I weren’t so hungry, I’d fake an illness and leave,” Crosbie mutters.
“Don’t you dare abandon me,” I whisper back.
In order to keep Celestia and Nate apart from Marcela, Crosbie and I take seats on either side of the table, Celestia next to me, Nate next to Crosbie. This leaves only the opposing end seats for Kellan and Marcela, and once they’ve loaded the table with turkey, potatoes, cranberries, rolls, and the perfect gravy, they sit down. Crosbie and I now serve as a buffer between Marcela, Nate, and Celestia, and I figure Kellan can fend for himself, since he’s wielding the carving fork and slicing the turkey like a pro.
“You’re good at that,” Celestia says. “And the turkey looks perfect.”
Truth be told, it does look pretty good. As someone who has only succeeded in eating roast turkey twice in the past fifteen years, the fact that there’s any turkey at all is noteworthy.
“Dark meat or white?” Kellan asks.
“Oh, I’m vegetarian,” Celestia says.
Marcela mumbles something that sounds like you have to be fucking kidding me.
“But I brought some fake turkey,” she continues, pulling a little plastic-wrapped lump out of her purse and setting it on her plate. “It’s just as good!”
Kellan looks alarmed, but Crosbie quickly stands and extends his plate. “White or dark is fine by me,” he says. “I’ll eat anything.”
“Me too,” I say, shoving my plate forward.
We all proceed to load our plates in even more loaded silence, the quiet cut by the sound of Celestia sawing through what might just be a piece of gray putty. The only other items on her plate are half a dinner roll and a cranberry.
Marcela looks ready to have a conniption fit and when I see her mouth open to make some offensive remark, I blurt out, “So, Nate. Earmuffs. They must be handy on days like today!”
He’s got a mouthful of food so he looks around, chewing as fast as he can. “Very warm,” he agrees, the words garbled.
“They’re fur-lined,” Celestia reminds us.
“Isn’t that weird?” Kellan asks. “Being a vegetarian and wearing fur?”
She stares at him. “How do you figure?”
“What did you get Celestia?” I ask Nate, sensing Marcela winding up again.
“An angel,” he mumbles. “For her tree.”
“Oh. That’s nice.”
“He said it looked like me,” Celestia adds. “It’s beautiful.”
A lengthy, painful silence follows.
“What’d you two get each other?” Kellan asks eventually, using his knife to point between Crosbie and me, nearly taking out Nate’s eye.
Crosbie and I both freeze. We hadn’t actually talked about gifts, though I’d secretly gotten him something. I hid it beneath the passenger seat of his car, figuring I could text him on Christmas morning to tell him where to find it.
“That’s a surprise,” Crosbie says, taking a gulp of wine. “For…later.”
“Yes,” I say, as though I too, have not bought a gift. “Later.”
“Huh.”
“And you?” Celestia says. “What did you buy for Marcela?”
“Lingerie,” Kellan answers promptly.
“I’m wearing it now,” Marcela adds.
Celestia looks startled. “Oh. How…personal.”
“How about you, Marcela?” Nate asks. “What’d you get Kellan?”
“A video game,” she lies. I know they didn’t get each other anything at all, since they’re not actually in a relationship and this charade is fine so long as they don’t have to spend any money.
“Oh,” Nate says, doing an excellent-if-sarcastic Celestia impression. “How…personal.”
Marcela glares at him.
“Kellan, this gravy is amazing,” I say, pouring a little more than necessary on my potatoes. “Well worth all the taste testing.”
“It’s the white pepper,” he replies. “Who knew?”
Nate polishes off his beer. “Who indeed?”
Celestia pushes away her plate, half her tiny food portion still sitting untouched. “I’m stuffed,” she announces. “Do you have any Perrier?”
“Still no,” Marcela snaps.
With Celestia just sitting there watching us placidly, the sound of everyone chewing suddenly feels incredibly loud. And as though we all hear it, we all start to chew faster, just so it’s over.
“Why don’t we play this new video game of yours?” Crosbie asks when the tension grows to unbearable proportions.
Kellan face goes comically blank. “It’s…not here.”
“Where is it?”
“At my place,” Marcela supplies. “I bought a console so Kellan could be there all the time.”
Nate snorts.
Crosbie shrugs. “Whatever. Let’s play something else, then.”