Better how?
Let me tell you how. Johnny and Megan moved up to the lake house. And he’s no longer in charge of the money-making ceremony. Some guy called Chek is. Chek has this twelve-year-old daughter called Wendy who kinda creeps me out. I can’t place my finger on it because she’s kinda cute. And smart. And quiet. But she has this look she gives people when they’re not paying attention.
This look reminds me of Johnny.
But then again, it reminds me of Chek too. So… maybe it’s just genetics and I’m overreacting?
But here’s the thing… I’m the sober one, right? I see things others miss because they’re drinking beer, or eating pot brownies, or dressing up like alien elves and whatever. Sober is like a superpower. You see things. And of course, little creepy Wendy is sober too. So she has the same superpower.
Also, I’m pretty sure Johnny had something to do with Joey getting shared custody of his daughter, Maisy. Every other weekend. And Michael Conner didn’t even put up a fight even though his family and all those other creepy families up on the Kane estate still have to pay their monthly… contribution.
Nothing really changed. And yet everything got less stressful.
But that’s twice I’ve used the word ‘creepy’ in less than five seconds of thinking time.
What’s up with that?
Anyway, back to the point and my convo with Johnny. “What does Jack and Silvia’s house have to do with Alonzo?”
Jack and Silvia are Emma’s parents. Super cool people. Like… I cannot even tell you how much I love Jack and Silvia. They own a shitload of water adventure shops down on Key West and a whole block of bungalows two blocks from the ocean. So the whole Dumas clan lives on this same street and then they rent the others out to tourists when Emma and her Bright Berry Beach peeps aren’t down for a visit.
Johnny holds up his hands like he’s surrendering. “I’m just saying. Take a peek out the window at three AM and tell me what you see.”
“OK, dude.” I clap him on the back. He’s not all there so sometimes it’s just better to just agree with him and move on to another topic. “So what are you and Megan doing for the holidays? Got any big plans?”
I should know this. He is my brother. But I haven’t spent a holiday with Johnny since… well, a long time ago. Probably over fifteen years ago. Long before our uncle and father died.
Johnny shoots me a confused look. “Holiday?”
“You know… Christmas?”
“Oh. I don’t do church.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. “OK. Yeah. But you know, Christmas is about trees and presents.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Dude, it so is. That’s why we’re here. At this party. There’s a giant twenty-foot-tall tree in front of the window and a present machine near the exit.”
Ah. That reminds me. The presents. Because Santa Mila’s bag is only filled with favors. They have an honest-to-God present machine here. Everyone got a lanyard as they came into the party. It’s got your name on it and everything. And you know what’s cool about these lanyards? The name is on both sides. I like that. I totally hate when people are wearing lanyards and you’re desperate to know their name, but it’s flipped backwards, so you either have to pretend you know their name—this is often my problem. I can’t remember anyone’s name—or tell them to flip their fucking badge around so you can read it.
Anyway. When you leave the party, you scan your lanyard under the Santa Laser Machine (this is a trademarked brand invented by Alien Elf herself) and boom. You get an email that reveals your Bright Berry Beach present.
I’m so fucking excited about this, I can’t even explain it. I don’t need a damn thing in this life. Not one damn thing. I’m set now that Emma is in my life and my brothers and I are on speaking terms again. So I’m not even sure why I’m so excited about the Santa Machine. Might have something to do with Emma bragging about the present she got me. Even though I don’t need it, everyone loves presents, right?
So I’ve been trying to figure out what she could possibly feel so confident about. A yacht? A Lamborghini? A house? What? What is she getting me?
But then… all my guesses are stupid. I don’t even like Lamborghinis and Bright Berry Beach isn’t buying me a yacht or a house.
But it could happen. Santa Mila is passing out mini-Dom Pérignon bottles like they’re candy-canes.
“Christmas is about church.” Johnny is adamant.
“Johnny. Brother. I hope to hell you got Megan a present for Christmas because if you didn’t… you’re just an asshole.”
Johnny’s gaze slams on over to Megan—who is helping herself to the dessert table like she’s never seen red and green macarons before—and he makes a face. “Did you get Emma a present?”