Chapter Ten
Christmas at the Stevens house was always a time for celebration. Bebe's mom cracked open the champagne and her dad said to hell with his stuffy old work clothes and paraded around in a t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. Lively music boomed throughout the house. One of Mrs. Stevens's famous Christmas hams roasted in the oven, filling the air with the smell of brown sugar glaze. Each of their top lips were crested with a sweet mustache of marshmallow foam from mugs of steaming hot chocolate – always made with milk instead of water. Their morning festivities took so long they didn't get around to opening presents until noon. Bebe's favorite movie of all time, Love Actually, played on repeat all day until the morning of the twenty-sixth of December. Even then, she was tempted to watch it just one more time.
She had overdosed on amazing presents. A brand new Lauren Conrad handbag in bright pink, a pair of Uggs, a dozen silk panties from Victoria's Secret, and countless other presents were strewn across their living room like the fallout from a teenage girl's wildest dreams. Bebe sighed in happiness, squeezing a soft cashmere sweater to her chest. She loved being spoiled, hence why Christmas was her favorite holiday, next to her birthday.
"Thank you so much, mom and dad," she grinned, sampling a perfume roller on her wrist. "Best Christmas ever."
Mrs. Stevens grinned, nestled happily in the side of her husband. Without makeup on, she looked youthful, vibrant even. Bebe thought it helped that her dad was actually paying attention to her for once. "You're welcome, sweetie. To be fair, you think every Christmas is the best Christmas ever."
Bebe collapsed on the rug, sprawled out in contentment. "You guys just outdo yourselves every year. You got me everything I asked for!"
"You ask for the same stuff every year, gumdrop," her dad chuckled, sipping on his cranberry juice and vodka. He only ever called her gumdrop on Christmas day. Bebe could feel happiness oozing out of every pore in her body.
She sat up, an overwhelming need to spread holiday cheer filling her from her head to her toes. Her parents looked shocked at the serious expression now mounting Bebe's face.
"I'm sorry for everything that's happened this year," she admitted, feeling a twinge of regret. "I didn't mean to make you guys worry about me. I'm sorry I made the wrong choices. I know you guys just want what's best for me, and I'm glad you care enough to try and correct my mistakes." When her parents didn't respond, she smiled. "I'm glad I have parents like you. Honest."
Bebe hadn't expected her mom to start crying, but she did. She set down her foggy glass of Christmas cocktail and flung herself down on the rug, taking her daughter into her arms. Bebe thought her ribs might break from how hard her mom was squeezing her. "I love you so much, my sweet little angel," Mrs. Stevens cried, her body shaking with joyful sobs, "Don't ever think we're hard on you because we want to be! Everything we do for you is because we love you!"
Despite herself, the blonde felt herself crying a little, too. It only worsened when her dad wrapped his arms around the both of them, crushing them with his grip. The trio began to break into rancorous laughter, realizing how ridiculous and dramatic they were being, collapsing on the rug in the mess of Bebe's opened presents and discarded wrapping paper. With her dad in the middle, her mom on the right, and herself on the left, Bebe thought there was no other way she'd rather spend Christmas.
Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her furry pink robe. Her parents had decided to let Bebe have her most prized possession back after her first double shift at work. She glanced at it, expecting a 'Merry Christmas' text from a relative, but found the smile residing in her cheeks slipping as she saw who had sent it. Clyde.
'Come outside' was all the elusive text said. Bebe blinked at her phone screen before a second text joined the first. 'I'm in the driveway.' Confused, she sat up, leaving her mom and dad to cuddle on the floor while watching Love Actually. It was one of her favorite scenes – where the writer jumps into the water after the girl he had a hopeless crush on to save his horrible manuscript. Her parents were so wrapped up in each other they didn't notice their daughter walk up to the front door and look out of the window. Indeed, there he sat, bundled up against the cold. His red Range Rover was parked on the curb.
Bebe opened the door and shuffled along the snow in her slippers, immediately feeling the chill as the ice melted into her fuzzy socks. Clyde looked up, surprised she had actually come outside. Maybe it was the holiday cheer in her. She had always felt particularly romantic on holidays. Either way, her need to punch Clyde in the nose was sated as she met him at the end of her driveway, arms crossed across her chest for warmth. The air was biting at her skin through her thick pajamas.
"What do you want?" She asked, hopping back and forth on her feet. She was starting to lose feeling in her toes.
Clyde took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I gave you the clap." He took a long pause, waiting for Bebe's angry interjection, but it never came. "I, uh, just wanted to say that."
"Thanks for apologizing, I guess." She sniffed, rubbing her arms to warm them. "I finished my antibiotics, so I don't even have it anymore. I'm clean." She held up her numb hands and felt a giggle bubble up in her chest even though she would've normally been pummeling his smug face into the sidewalk.
He sighed in relief. "I got it from Kevin Stoley."
That took her by surprise. She felt her mouth open before she closed it to be polite. "Wow. You – you had sex with Kevin?" She kicked some fluffy snow around with her toes, avoiding eye contact.
"Yeah. And he got it from someone at band camp." Clyde looked worried and uncomfortable. Bebe had to admit that she was feeling the same way. He took a sharp breath before closing his eyes. "I'm gay."
She blinked. "Oh." That would've explained quite a lot about their relationship.
"So that's why I couldn't…you know, whenever we tried during Homecoming. I like boys."
"Oh my God," Bebe held up her hands to her mouth, horrified. "Did I make you gay?"
He grinned, laughing. "No. Not how it works. I've always been gay. You didn't do anything but make me sure of the fact that I am – no offense, by the way. You're still totally hot and everything."
She crossed her arms, shoving her hands into her armpits. She was starting to freeze. "None taken. Have you told your parents?" Bebe felt like they had crossed the line from angry exes to neutral friends. She knew he had always had trouble at home with his dad.
"Told them this morning," he said, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "My dad didn't take it too well, but my stepmom is getting him to come around."
Bebe saw telltale tears beginning to sparkle in his eyes. She chose to ignore them. The line between neutral friends and good friends was fine and she wasn't ready to cross it just yet. "Well…if you ever need anything, just ask." It was all that she could really think of to say in that situation. What did a girl do after she found out one of her great loves was into guys and was facing eternal turmoil at home and in his mind for being gay? And he took her virginity.
Clyde smiled with tight lips, sniffling. He rubbed his eyes quickly, pretending the cold had caused his eyes to water. "Thanks. I'm sorry about everything. The clap, dating you to convince myself I wasn't gay, and being a dick in general."
"And the time you forgot my birthday," Bebe added.
He nodded solemnly. "And the time I forgot your birthday, and you ate at Benihana alone."
Bebe stepped forward, giving him a quick, chaste hug. They broke apart a bit too soon. She cleared her throat. "I accept your apology. Merry Christmas, Clyde."
"Right. Merry Christmas, Bebe."
She watched him drive off into the cool Colorado sun. The light was hitting the fresh snow just right, so it broke into a thousand shimmering rainbows. Bebe took a minute to drink it all in. The block was brimming with Christmas decorations galore, from red and white oversized candy canes lining driveways to multicolored lights strung along rooftops and windows. The great belly of a plastic Santa across the street glistened with icicles. A half built snowman sat abandoned in the front lawn across the street. Everything was still. Bebe liked that on Christmas, everything was quiet, and everything seemed to go her way. It also helped that she'd gotten the new makeup brush set she'd been wanting.
Behind her, the front door opened again. Her parents were standing with their arms around each other. "You coming inside anytime soon?" Her dad asked, flashing his teeth.
"Who was that?" Her mom added, squinting down the street.
Bebe began the trek back up to the house across the frosty front lawn. She patted the head of the giant plastic reindeer that guarded the steps, kicking off her slippers as soon as she was inside. "Clyde. He came over to say he was sorry." She peeled her sopping wet fuzzy socks from her cold, numb feet.
"Good. I'm glad he did." Her dad squeezed Bebe's shoulder knowingly and that was all that was said on the matter.
That night, after Bebe's presents were brought up to her room and the Stevens family had stuffed themselves silly with ham, potatoes, and red velvet cake, Bebe sat in the living room watching the last fleeting minutes of her favorite movie. Her parents both yawned and started up the staircase to their respective bedrooms.
"Honey," she heard her mom's voice, muffled by the distance. "Why don't you sleep in here tonight?"
Bebe was sure she wasn't supposed to be hearing what she was hearing, but she lowered the volume on the TV anyway. Her pulse was beginning to race with excitement.
"Are you sure?" Her dad's deep voice was unmistakable.
There was a moment of hesitation and then decision. "Yes, I'm sure. I get lonely in this big bed without you."
The pattering of footsteps, and then the closing of a single door. Bebe didn't want to imagine her parents doing the deed but she had never been more pleased with the possibility. For old time's sake, she started Love Actually from the beginning.
Stan and Wendy always exchanged gifts in private. It was always just a bit too awkward to open presents in front of either of the families, so they opted for Stan's bedroom, perched on the edge of his bed. Wendy was always a perfectionist and it showed in her meticulous gift-wrapping. She had gone with a cute snowman print, completely with a huge bow of curly blue ribbons. Stan's present was lazily thrown into a gift bag and topped with a couple of handfuls of wrinkled tissue paper. He hoped it was the thought that counted.
"Merry Christmas, babe," he said, handing her the bag with a quick kiss on the cheek.
She smiled back at him and gently laid her massive present on top of his lap. It was heavy. "Merry Christmas."
They met eyes, grinning, before digging into their presents. Stan grabbed a corner of the giftwrap and ripped straight across – Wendy was a little sad her hard work went to such a waste – and waited for his reaction. It took him a few seconds to realize what he was looking at.
"No way," he said, his jaw slack, "no way!"
He held out his present to get a better look at it, a mahogany frame containing an autographed Denver Broncos jersey. His eyes ran over it, ravishing the fabric until they stopped on the signature. His heart could've stopped. He was certain he had the best girlfriend of all time. There was no doubt in his mind that he could've gotten on one knee at that exact moment and proposed to her. He resisted the urge to kiss both the jersey and his girlfriend.
Stan turned to Wendy, looking on the brink of true euphoria. "You got me an autographed John Elway jersey? These go for hundreds of dollars!"
Wendy couldn't help herself. She was feeling a little smug. "I know he's your favorite player. My dad had a friend at work who was moving and wanted to get rid of it so I got a good deal on it. Do you like it?"
"Like it? I love it!"
He gingerly set down his now most-prized possession only to take Wendy into his arms in a crushing bear hug. She grunted at the pressure around her ribs but managed to hug him back. Maybe the jersey was a little bit of overkill. She'd shelled out over three hundred bucks to get him his present, but she figured if he liked it that much it was worth the price. And she was in desperate need for a reason to feel a little less guilty for dating his best friend behind his back.
Stan released his iron grip on her shoulders and grinned back and forth from Wendy's face to the present in her lap. "Okay, open yours. I think you're going to like it."
Wendy was doubtful. Stan truly was a horrendous gift-giver. Last year she'd received a gift card to Buffalo Wild Wings and turquoise throw blanket that clashed horribly with the décor in her room. Swallowing her sudden anxiety at having to pretend like she loved her gift, she finished removing the hot pink tissue paper, making a grab for the present in the bottom of the bag.
She lifted it out and blanched.
Wendy was never the kind of girl to put on any airs or put too much thought into what she looked like. Most of her clothes came from cheap department stores and she saved makeup application for cheerleading and school dances. Her entire wardrobe probably cost the same amount as Bebe's favorite outfit. But she knew Tiffany jewelry when she saw it.
In her fingers, she twisted it around, viewing the gorgeous blue box from all angles. Once she'd untied the white ribbon, she ran her thumb over the black writing on the lid – 'Tiffany & Co.' Wendy didn't want to open it. She knew was unworthy of whatever present was inside. Still, she gathered herself, took a breath, and removed the lid.
"Oh, Stan," she whispered. "You shouldn't have."
It was a beautiful sterling silver necklace. The charm read 'forever' in curly script. He'd really outdone himself. Wendy had been expecting some lame present, like a teddy bear or another gift card to a restaurant she hated, and Stan had gone and gotten her Tiffany jewelry.
"Here, I'll put it on."
He took the necklace from the box and Wendy turned her back to him, lifting her heavy curtain of black hair. Stan looped it around her neck, fastening the clasp in the back. Unexpectedly, he placed a kiss at the nape of her neck. Wendy flushed pink.
His lips closed in around her ear as Stan wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "It's supposed to be for us. Because we've been together forever."
Guilt felt like a cold knife going through her heart. Together forever. Truly, they had been, even with several messy breakups patched in their past. Stan gave her midriff a squeeze with his forearms, watching as Wendy pulled out her phone to admire the necklace in her front camera. He rested his chin on her shoulder. In the picture, they looked so happy, each glowing with the lingering excitement of getting such great presents. Stan reached forward, pressing her screen to take a picture. Wendy turned to look at him.
"What? I thought it was a good picture," he said simply, shrugging and removing his hold from her waist.
She smiled and opened it up to look at it. It really was a good picture. But that one selfie didn't change what was truly happening behind it. Wendy was cheating on Stan, Stan had probably cheated on Wendy with Sally Turner, and no amount of gift giving and sweet photographs was going to change that. But, it was Christmas day, the house was quiet, and they were happy. Wendy decided maybe that would be enough, for now.
As of the time I'm writing this, Muffin Tops & The Archive has 1,566 views, 23 reviews, 10 favorites, and 9 follows. I never dreamed so many people would enjoy my writing. Thank you so much for all of your continued support. I mean it when I say it means the world to me when you all take time out of your lives to read my work. Again, thank you so much, and I'll see you next week for chapter eleven! (Also, sorry that this is such a short chapter. I meant to do another section on why Cartman isn't around but I hate writing his character...so just for future reference, Cartman goes to military school.)
Also, I'd like to have a little disclaimer here that I in NO WAY WHATSOEVER condone the use of illegal drugs and underage drinking. Please have fun responsibly. If you rely on drugs or alcohol to have a good time, get some new friends or a new hobby. Thank you!