Dear Beth,
You're a pain in my ass, you know that? I mean, I love you. You're the best sister in the world but I kinda hate you too. As per your request (read demand) I've set up the minimal tree with the customary presents.
You don't need to worry so much about me, though. I'm not completely friendless in this new city. My neighbour Isabella, or Bella as she likes to be called, helped me with the tree. I don't know how she found things that would fit from that huge ornament box you sent. But yeah, she helped me unpack it and put up the tree.
I'm sorry that I will be missing Christmas with you this year, but I can't step into Mum's house. The wounds are too fresh. Literally and figuratively. Is she on detox now? Or is Dad waiting for more clues than an assaulted son? Sorry, I shouldn't have written that, but I guess I can't completely ditch the bitterness.
I started my job this past Monday. I like the floor. The manager is a portly man whose idea of Christmas spirit is to fake-laugh like Santa Claus in the flesh; but he's harmless. Bella works on a different floor. We share lunchtime though. This store is so much bigger than Poppies in Seattle. California just smells different, you know. It feels different. The city has a personality that permeates into the people. I love it here! I never thought I'd love the heat as much as I do. The beaches here are so serene, Beth. You'll go crazy when you come here.
Bella and I are baking cookies today. She bakes every Christmas to distribute it in shelters across ten blocks around here. The woman has been baking up a storm since yesterday. I offered to help by standing in her kitchen and looking hot, since anything else could turn out dangerously inedible. She's mean like you though, she's slapped my hands away from hot cookies twice now. You'll like her, I think.
I like her, I think.
Merry Christmas to you and Seth.
xoxo,
Eddie-bro