Chapter Eight: The Christmas Gift
Michael and Sydney always allowed their children to open one gift on Christmas Eve, so after dinner that evening, the Vaughn family gathered around the Christmas tree.
"You want to play Santa, Jack?" Sydney asked with a smile. Jack resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Every year, she asked that, and every year, he painted on a smile and handed out presents. This year would be no exception, of course. His grandmother's Christmas card was just going to make it a little harder than usual to keep his mind on the festivities.
Still, he moved toward the Christmas tree with false cheerfulness, gazing at the mound of presents nestled beneath. "What do you think, Em?" he asked in what he hoped was a normal tone of voice. "You want a big one, or you want a little one?"
"Oh, I don't have to go first," Emily said, voice sickeningly sweet. Jack hid a smile. If he was afraid he was acting a little weird, Emily was acting like an utter freak. She was not only concealing her knowledge of her grandmother's note, but trying to regain her status as Daddy's little girl-- and she was a bad actress.
"Give your mother the flat one, Jack," his father encouraged.
"Sure, okay," Jack said with a shrug, handing this mother a slim silver-wrapped package.
"Oh, make sure everyone has one before I open it," Sydney encouraged. Jack selected boxes that looked like they contained clothing for his sister and father, and a slim, small box for himself-- looked like his parents had gotten him the watch he'd asked for.
"Open it, Syd," Michael encouraged.
Jack watched as his mother tore open the wrapping paper, gasping at the contents of the package. Looked like plane tickets. "Jamaica? Michael--"
"I know we said we'd go on our twenty-fifth, Syd, but it'll be twenty this year, and--"
"Oh, Michael, it's a wonderful idea," Jack's mother said, leaning over to kiss her husband. "Do you think that restaurant's still there?"
"That's right," Michael said, eyes twinkling. "I haven't taken you dancing since St. Bart's, have I?"
"Oh, Michael." She leaned in for another kiss, and Jack smiled, shaking his head, as he opened his own gift.
It was a good thing his parents were preoccupied with each other when he tore open the wrapping. Because what he found on the inside made him gasp out loud. Inside the box was a watch wrapped in tissue paper, as expected. But written on the tissue paper was a message.
Meet me Christmas Day in the lobby of the White Sands hotel at five p.m. I'll be holding a gift wrapped in red.
He caught Emily's eye, cocking his head almost imperceptibly toward the kitchen.
She jumped up like a shot. "How about we make hot chocolate?" she blurted out.
Jack rolled his eyes, and his parents looked at her as if she'd grown another head. Smooth, Emily. She might have thought she was all grown up, but she was still a dork. "I'll help you," he said, grabbing his watch box and heading for the kitchen.
"What is it, Jack?" Emily asked once they were out of the room, eyes wild.
And, for the second time that day, Jack heard himself saying, "Emily, you're not going to believe this."