John sat outside with me for my first cigarette, the rest of the Laurens kids all in various states of getting up and ready to open their gifts. The festivities were still a ways off from beginning as the six other people in the house sorted themselves. I nursed a cup of coffee while he he leaned against me, looking at my phone over my shoulder as I tried to refresh Twitter, coming up with no new content.
"I have the worst service when I'm down here." I complained.
"No, you're on WiFi, I mean, otherwise you'd have the worst service, but look, you're on WiFi. You probably just need to reboot your phone."
"Ugh, it takes forever." I depressed the power button and waited for it to restart.
"Then you can pay attention to me, Merry Christmas," John nuzzled against me closer.
"You, too, querido. Not a shabby one, you're home, it's our first together."
"My dad's not here." He grinned.
"Wasn't gonna say that one."
"Really? Because that seems like it's totally your territory."
"Eh, it's Christmas and this is only my first cup of coffee, first cigarette. Give me a minute to wake up." My phone settled and turned back on, immediately buzzing with notifications that hadn't come through over the lady two days.
"See, I told you. Probably, you need a new phone."
"Well, those are like 800 bucks, so, that's gonna have to wait."
He smiled at me and fidgeted with my hair.
I started attacking the impressive notification list, majority of them from news apps, some from the Crossword Puzzle game I had, Tweets I missed, and emails.
The emails felt the most pressing, John glanced down at the size of my inbox.
"Jesus! How do you have 14,000 unread emails?"
"I just… do?"
"Ack, how does that not give you anxiety?"
"Uh… because I'm already too busy having anxiety about other things to get anxiety about undeleted emails?"
"Oh, well, well that's fair."
I looked back to the emails, scrolling past irrelevant ones until I froze, I looked at John.
"There's one from Columbia."
His voice was mellow and soothing, "open it."
I lit another cigarette and raked my hand through my hair. I tapped the email and it loaded, my eyes darted over the text.
'Dear Mr. Hamilton, after scrupulous review of the admission essay that we received from you we are pleased and honoured to invite you to the Columbia University program of Law beginning in the Spring semester. Please see the attached information for the enrollment process. Enrollment must occur by December 29th in order to reserve your spot in classes. Congratulations from the admissions department.'
John read slower than I did, I turned to him and watched him read it, his face tight with anticipation, I took a drag on the cigarette. He turned to me, eyes exploding in… pride? He flung his arms around me, a drop of coffee splashing to the ground as he hugged me. I tucked my cigarette between my lips and held on to him.
"You got in!" He looked up at me.
"I got in." I said around the smoke.
"I always knew you would."
I shrugged.
"Alexander, I am so proud of you. You amaze me."
"It's pretty cool, isn't it?" My lips pulled back of their own volition.
"So cool, and like, the best Christmas present in the world."
Martha appeared at the door and stepped out onto the porch.
"Morning, guys. Sorry to interrupt, we're about to get started."
I snuffed my burned down cigarette, waving the remaining smoke that clung in the air away from Martha.
"Patsy, guess what?" John beamed.
"What?"
"Alex got into law school!"
She squealed in delight and threw her arms around me, surprising both of us. My back straightened, but I patted her back and let her get in a final squeeze.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Hugs... right... sorry, but, Alexander! That's so amazing! You're going to be a lawyer! John! He's gonna be a lawyer!"
"I know, Pats, isn't it amazing?" John grabbed my hand.
"So amazing."
My cheeks burned from the attention, I chugged the dregs of my coffee.
"Thanks, Martha," I smiled as warmly as I knew how, "what do you say we release the hounds and let them open presents?"
We all made our way to the formal living room where the floor to ceiling bay windows were occupied by a grand tree, ornately decorated, lights twinkling. Presents flooded the room. John took my coffee cup.
"Alright, everybody, we ready?" Martha asked.
I looked around, everyone accounted for except David. I shot a look at Martha, she inferred it.
"Been in surgery since four a.m. Told me the show must go on." She smiled sadly at Ellie.
I looked over to Lafayette, "get John's camera?"
Lafayette, looking bleary eyed, hair now out of its cornrows, pulled up high in a puff on the crown of his head picked up the camera beside him and showed it to me.
"Perfect." I smiled.
John returned with a fresh cup of coffee for me. I took it gratefully as he sat behind me, legs on either side of me and pulled me against his chest, I rested my forearms on his knees, once again enjoying how well we fit together, grateful I'd learned to lean into loving him.
The Christmas debauchery unfolded, wrapping paper shucked in various directions.
John watched in delight as his siblings opened their gifts, giggling in my ear at their surprised faces, pressing kisses in my hair to come down from the high of his happiness. He sipped his tea and stayed curled up tightly to me. Lining up shots with the camera in front of us, holding me in place when I'd offered to move.
Ellie squealed with delight each time she tore into the brightly coloured paper, getting to a point where she was assisting everyone else with opening their gifts. Harry, now playing Santa - handed John a few of his own packages. John opened them around me, a few new pairs of jeans, a new lens for his camera, new sport coat almost identical to the one he wore almost every day. Lafayette presented me with a new messenger bag and a pen that supposedly writes at any angle, telling me that John told him about my propensity to write upside down in bed, pen hovering over my head, often frustrated that my pens wouldn't defy gravity. He seemed happy with his crepe making kit, I'd remembered him complaining about missing crepes more than anything about living in France, other than Paris, can't bring Paris to him, but crepes I can handle… and maybe benefit from.
I didn't mind not getting anything from John's family, just happy to be wrapped up in John, watching the festivities. Relishing having somewhere warm and friendly to be on the holiday.
"Alright, last one." Harry grinned, pulling the hefty package out from under the tree.
"Who's it to?" Martha asked, a terrible actress.
Harry slid it to me, "for you, Alexander."
"Don't worry, it's from all of us." Martha promised.
I tore into the wrapping and pulled the flaps of the repurposed Amazon shipping box open, finding cozy sweaters inside. I pulled one out and examined it, exactly my size, a rich navy colour, below the second one, a burnt sienna shade, was a shining new laptop. My mouth hung on a hinge.
"John said you could use a new one." Martha grinned.
"One that has all the keys." Harry laughed.
"For since you're all… like a writer and shit." Jem agreed.
"Wow, this is, thank you guys. I don't even, I mean, damn."
"Good surprise?" John whispered in my ear.
"You like it?" Polly asked.
"Amazing, yes, thank you guys."
"John picked it out," Martha explained.
"And you said your present was back at home." I looked up at him.
"It is, this isn't from me, this is all the other kids."
"Damn, thank you."
After we'd helped Martha clean up the paper and ribbons, everyone scattered to their rooms, ready for naps or downtime. I curled up with John in his bed as he looked through the photos he'd taken of everyone opening their gifts.
"They sure surprised you." John laughed.
"Yeah they did. That was crazy."
"Good Christmas?"
I traced lazy lines across his stomach, "best ever." I let sleep surround me, nuzzling against him.
When I woke up the room was empty, the sounds of laughter coming from downstairs, I went to join the rest of the family. Well, not rest of, rest of implies that I'm family… I guess I'm kind of John's family, in a not really kind of way, but I don't know if that makes me their family. Semantics I suppose.
I passed by David, asleep on the couch, still in his scrubs. Ellie looked away from the movie she was watching to glance at me but quickly returned her interest to the screen.
"Hey, sugar." John kissed my cheek when I entered the kitchen, he stood over the stove.
The aroma of food hit me. The Laurens kids and Lafayette worked as a team, Martha was overseeing the turkey, John was stirring a pan of macaroni, Harry was peeling potatoes, Jem setting the table, Lafayette working on a tart, Polly was pouring tembleque into molds.
"Wow, uh, can I help?" I offered.
"Um… if you want to… check on the rolls, they're rising under that towel." Martha staffed me.
I lifted the towel, "they look… risen?"
"Yeah, Patsy, he can't cook." John sighed.
"That's a lie, I can too, you love my pizza rolls, trick is oven not microwave. How do I tell if these are good to go? I don't know how they looked before, so I'm not sure how much they were supposed to rise up."
John joined me, "those are fine."
"Should we put them in the oven?" I asked.
"Not just yet, we're still about forty five minutes out, so I'd say in about twenty minutes," Martha wiped her brow with the back of her hand, setting the turkey pan on a trivet on the counter, "you know how to make gravy?"
"There's flour in it, I think?"
"He's hopeless, Pats."
"Guess so, no worries, I'll make it. You still good on potato duty?"
"Golden." John confirmed.
"Sorry, I can, uh, do something else to help?" I offered.
"You mind getting the bacon out of the fridge?" she requested.
I could do that task, I opened the fridge and saw a large jug sitting on one of the shelves, I had to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head in delight, "is that coquito?"
"Sure is, Patsy makes the most amazing coquito."
"Oh, my God, I haven't had coquito in years, not since I left PR."
"Today's you're lucky day then, Alexander." Martha smiled, proud of herself.
I handed the package to her, "best Christmas ever! What should I do now?"
"You mind just chopping that for the greens?"
"Sure. If I can just get a knife."
"Easier trick, use these." She handed me a pair of kitchen shears and I chunked the bacon down.
Dinner was finally ready, Martha woke her husband and convinced Ellie to come to the table. We sat together and enjoyed a southern-Puerto Rican-French inspired feast.
After the meal I savoured two glasses of coquito, adding a splash of rum. John adorned the glasses with a little bit of cinnamon.
"John was right, Martha. You make some damned good coquito. Tastes like Christmas at home." I regretted how freely the rum made the words fall from my mouth.
"Welcome home." John wiped froth from drink out of my moustache.
We both knew I meant home on the island. Home when I had a home, a family, but he wasn't entirely wrong either. Sometimes home is a person, a feeling. Eliza was home. I'd lost that home just like the one with my mother in the hurricane. But somehow I found another. I was home. Home was him.