LEAVETAKING

Christmas Day in the full Moon is like any old day of the year. The only thing that makes this one unique are the presents waiting to be opened under an actual tree, which took Ma and Dad some convincing – as in Eve told them, “I’ll buy it, decorate it, water it, and vacuum it. You won’t even know it’s there.”

Anisse’s kids knock early on Eve’s door to get her out of bed, their tinny voices calling from the other side of the door, “Merry Christmas, Aunty Evie!” At six and four, they make her name sound like one long, drawn out ‘eeeeeee.’ “Time to open presents!”

She listens to their feet patter up the stairs to the living room and peels both herself and Iris out of bed. After a quick trip outside for Iris to do her thing and for Eve to rehearse one final time the business that she hopes to raise with everyone over breakfast, they join the festivities upstairs. The living room smells of pine, even with the patio open and the plumeria outside. All five adults are in their pajamas watching Lee and Lynn scurry around the tree. Lee is old enough to read the labels on the gifts, passing them on to Lynn to distribute them.

“This one’s for Dung Dung,” he says, still unable to pronounce Gung Gung correctly. Lynn walks a square present in her small hands, giving it to Dad, and then hands the next one to Ma, or as Lee says, “For Popo.” There are even a few gifts for Iris, which Lynn is delighted to let the pug sniff.

“Can I open for Iris?” Lynn pats Iris on the head with her little fingers and gazes up at Eve with blue-gray eyes. It still amazes Eve how her niece’s eyes aren’t brown yet. Lynn is half-Chinese, after all.

“I’m sure Iris would appreciate that.”

“Can we open them now?” Lee looks longingly at his pile of presents, which look massive compared to the smaller pile that Lynn is standing next to, and by the expression on her round face, the size of her gifts displeases her a great deal. Tears well in those hazel eyes and then she begins to sob aloud.

Ma notices her granddaughter’s expression and asks, “Liang Liang, what’s wrong?” She calls Lynn by her Chinese name, which means ‘bright light.’

Lynn is pointing to her pile of presents but looking at Lee’s, and it appears her bright light has gone out, jealousy in its place.

“Mama,” Lynn whimpers, “why are Lee’s so big?”

Really, she’s wondering why hers are so small. She’s inconsolable now – the kind of crying where it’s hard to breathe, and she hasn’t even opened anything.

“It’s okay, Bubba.” Lee puts his skinny arm around his little sister’s shoulders. “You can open my presents. If you like one, you can have it.”

Eve catches Lee’s sentiment almost as quickly as Anisse does. The two sisters exchange a knowing glance, for six-year-old Lee just offered the same thing to his sister that Anisse once offered to Eve on a Christmas morning over two decades ago. Once, Eve had been so jealous of Anisse that she took a pair of scissors and cut her sister’s new pillowcase to shreds because she hated how Anisse could fall asleep so easily. Anisse never needed pillow talky talks like Eve did; she could turn off the lights and fall asleep in minutes. Eve needed coaxing and comforting, and Anisse coolly, compassionately consoled her little sister. Even after the pillowcase incident, Anisse let Eve open her Christmas presents and keep the one she liked.

Lynn runs over to her mother, burying her head in Anisse’s lap and trying to catch her breath. Lee reaches for the biggest present, shiny with silver wrapping and a big red bow. It’s the one Eve bought just for Lee – a big yellow dump truck with heavy duty tires, a gift that Lee’s certain to love but Lynn is certain to hate.

“Bubba, open this one for me.” He pushes it toward her like an offering, unaware of what’s inside yet clearly caring more about appeasing his sister’s hysteria.

That’s when something hits Eve. She wishes for Lynn to experience the irrational pain of not getting what she wants, the disappointment of a bad gift, and the joy of a perfect one. Eve knows what the others don’t – that the best thing for Lynn is to let her sob into her mother’s pajamas.

“Oh, Lee,” Eve addresses her nephew, who is still generously holding out the gift for his sister. “You don't have to do that.”

“I want!” Lynn points at the silver box, the bright light materializing on her face. Anisse rubs the tears from Lynn’s face, and Jay lets out a sigh.

Looking around the living room, Eve can tell there are lots of wants that aren’t wrapped in boxes with festive bows – like how they all want Lynn to stop crying, or how Eve wants a place of her own again, or how her parents want her to be “successful.” There are lots of cans too, like how Lynn can cry when she wants to or how Eve can live in the Moon under her parents’ care – their own big gift. For the first time since moving back, Eve considers the possibility of not having to. There are lots of don’t have to’s – like traveling to Italy with Fox or returning there with Lily – that turned into did’s. Yet, if given the choice even now, she wouldn’t change any of it. She might not be here, back home with her family, had it been any other way. It took distractions to get her to where she is now. It took Gabe and, yes, even Cutter. It took enduring months of Linus and the humility of rehabilitation. It took Ma and even Dad helping her pass that darn real estate exam. Now, Eve plans on taking one more thing – this time for Lynn’s sake.

“Lynnie.” Eve points to a red gift bag with green paw prints. “How about you open this one for Iris?”

“But I want that one!” Lynn insists. Eve remembers how insistent she had been as a child, too, and she wishes one day for her niece to be different – for her to one day be grateful and accept what she’s given.

“Open Iris’s gift first,” Anisse instructs her child. “Then see how you feel.”

Lynn looks skeptical but does as she’s told. She scuttles across the room to Eve and takes the red gift bag.

“Look, Iris!” She pulls out a big bag of Greenies, Iris’s favorite treat. Immediately, Iris jumps off Eve’s lap and sits by the girl’s feet, looking attentively, longingly at Lynn. She gives Iris a Greenie and then another. Eve teaches Lynn how to make Iris do a few simple tricks like sit, shake, and roll over. The girl smiles and giggles at Iris’s wrinkly face, slaphappy paw, and floppy roll.

“Bubba, do you want to open my present?” Lee asks in a soft, barely audible voice, as if timid and hoping she’ll say no.

Lynn looks at the big silver box in Lee’s hands, shakes her head no, and reaches for Iris’s other present. Eve knows what’s inside. Iris, head tilted toward the sky, waits patiently, and the entire living room heaves a collective sigh. No one had asked for grace this Christmas, but it’s the best gift Eve can think to give.