Chapter 49: Chapter 49

Even though there are now officially only five days left till Christmas, I still have no idea what to get Mark for the holiday. My dad is easy. Every year, instead of buying each other a new present, we give each other the same same one. Socks and an obnoxious Christmas sweater for the following year, which can be hung up as a decoration then. The socks are worn because we take pleasure in being stereotypical, but in addition to that, they are amusing, and they frequently compliment the hideousness of the sweater. The practice of donning the sweater is nothing more than a lighthearted tradition. Because Maddy is now a part of the yearly custom, my dad and I are going shopping today to select a present for her to open on Christmas morning. When we get there, maybe I'll be able to figure out what to get Mark for a present and then get it to him before we go.

"Ready?" Immediately after I got into his car, my father questioned me about something.

"Sure." I say.

I get a sight of him inspecting my cap as he starts to pull away from me, and it makes me laugh. "What in the name of God is going on with that?" He asks.

The child cried, "It's my Santa hat!" as they pulled it off their head. I cannot contain my excitement as I proclaim. "Don't you like it?" This is a question that I ask with a great deal of enthusiasm.

He chuckles. "Of course I do." In keeping with what he claims.

Although though Mark and I don't live all that far from the shopping area that we frequent, getting there is always a nice and relaxed experience thanks to the proximity of our apartment to the center. We get ready to head out of the house and make our way to Wear-abouts, which is the name of the themed clothes store that we go to once per year. The ambiance of this store is different at different times of the year because it caters to different clientele. Throughout the course of winter, it contains pockets that portray snowmen and other winter scenes, and during the course of the Christmas season, it has pockets that depict ugly sweaters. All of the summertime sports are played while it is warm outside, which is in the summertime. They are able to construct apparatus for every sport imaginable, including baseball, softball, and lacrosse, amongst others. To express this idea in another way, it is stated in their slogan.

We put in an order for Maddy's sweater about a week ago, and we just now got word that it's been shipped and is ready to be picked up. It is a blue sweater with a snowman that is frowning and a lit-up tree with a dog that is urinating on the snowman. The dog is urinating on the snowman as the snowman is frowning. Maddy has a tremendous dislike to snowmen for some reason, thus this activity is ideal for her because it allows her to avoid having to interact with snowmen.

"Because this is the case, we can cross off the Romero family from our list of potential suspects." Anton, who is the proprietor of the establishment, is the one that greets us and smiles at us as we arrive.

The speaker stated that Hernandez would be taking control of the situation at this time. I say this while looking at him with a grin and putting out my hand to shake his.

"No way! Congratulations." A grin appears on his face.

"You're welcome."

"I take it that you two have arrived here to pick up the sweater that you ordered, have you?" He asks. We both nod, and Anton proceeds to the room at the back to retrieve it. "How does it look? How well does it meet your requirements and specifications?" He asks.

When I look at the picture, I can't help but chuckle and say, "wonderful!" "Do you also have the socks that are compatible with the order that we have placed?" I am curious while simultaneously returning my attention to his gaze.

"Yes, without a doubt," is my response. When he says "bringing them from behind them," he is referring to the following situation:

"Can you make it perfect?" He cuts me off right as I'm about to reach the end of my sentence.

"Would you wrap them up for me?" "Will you help me wrap them up?" The conclusion is reached regarding him. "Of course." After that, he goes to the storage area to put them in their respective wrappings.

"What did you get Mark?" At the time that we are waiting, my father has a question.

"I can honestly say that I have no clue. Nothing comes to me at all. I'm completely stumped." These are the words that come out of my mouth as I let out a disappointed sigh. "It would appear that there are no options available to purchase anything for him!"

"If that's the case, you probably shouldn't go out and do any shopping. Put your creativity to use." When Anton finally reemerges from the room, he will say what he has to say.

"But what kind of food should I put together?" While we are in the process of leaving the store, I have a question for you.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know... what other gifts have you given him?" "I'm sorry, but I don't know." He asks.

"I took him to a drive-in cinema as a surprise for a night out at the movies, and he was pleasantly surprised. I painted a portrait of him, as well as one of him and his mother together in the same painting." I make a remark as we are making our way to the food court in this shopping center.

The following words that he spoke to her were, "There you go." My mind is boggled, and I turn my head to the side in confusion. "I would appreciate it if you could make another drawing for him. Take, for instance, the one from your wedding or the one from your engagement photo session." He proceeds to elaborate.

"Maybe." Starting to give it some thought is something I would recommend doing. After giving the cashier my order, I make myself comfortable and start thinking about some ideas for future endeavors.

I've made up my mind. I'm going to doodle something here for you to look at. Maybe it was the way we were pressing our foreheads together and staring attentively into one other's eyes at the same time. That is without a doubt one of my most highly recommended options. While I'm munching on my meat burrito and potato rounds, thoughts of the many ways I could accomplish my objective flow through my head. Specifically, I'm thinking about how I might go about it. It would be possible for me to take a picture of it, have it printed out, then stretch it out on canvas and add additional texture to it. Either that, or I simply made a second one by following the same steps I took the first time. It would be interesting to see whether you could paint it in the exact same way. I have no idea. Since Mark won't be arriving home until very late tonight, I'll have plenty of time to think and come up with ideas before he gets here.

My dad drops me off at my apartment right before he goes back to his own place. As soon as we finished dining, I asked him if we could go to an art store before we parted ways and went our separate ways. It should come as no surprise that he shared my sentiments. I went out and bought some new paint, three canvases with dimensions of 24 by 30, and a few brushes to go along with them. Once more, I have no idea what it is that I want to do, but I'll figure it out eventually.

After gathering my bags, I give a quick wave to my father before leaving. As I enter the building, I say hello to the doorman and then proceed to the elevator, all the while humming to myself a tune whose name escapes me at this very moment. It must have something to do with the holiday of Christmas.

When I grab for my key and begin to turn it, I hear footsteps approaching from behind me, and I feel as though someone is covering my eyes. "Can you guess?" The question is posed by the voice that is inside my skull. It is in a kind and reassuring tone, with a touch of femininity.

"Maya!" When I turn my back and stare at the girl who I consider to be my friend and who has recently returned from college, I almost feel as though I should yell at her.

"Here and now." "In the real world." He says smiling and posing.

"What brings you to this part of the world in the first place?" I'd really appreciate it if you could just give her a hug.

"I'm here for Christmas, you idiot," she said to him. "I'm here for Christmas." She requests that you give me a gentle prod here and there.

"When discussing anything pertaining to my family, I frequently bring her up. I had the notion that you were going to introduce your new companion to your family at some point. I was wrong." I would begin by opening the door, then laying my items on the counter, and finally making my way to the couch in the living room.

It's not uncommon to hear people say things like "been there, done that." This is something she says in an effort to steer the conversation in a different direction.

"When do I get to meet Kevin in person?" I ask. I just give her a friendly grin and try to ignore the peculiar feeling that I may have spelled his name incorrectly.

"Tomorrow, I was really expecting that we would be able to have supper here, and I am keeping my fingers crossed that this would be possible. There is a possibility that Abby and Charlie will be able to attend as well." It seems that she is inquiring.

I continue my line of questioning by asking, "Did you hear that Abby had her baby?"

"No!" Her huffs could be picked up on the microphone. "I have no idea why she chose to keep that information from me." She makes a show of being angry while asking the question. "What was the point of not telling me?"

"It was not up to me to tell that story," the speaker explained. This is something I say when trying to contain my laughter at the situation.

"That makes sense... The question that needs to be answered at this point is what did they call her." She enquires while simultaneously stretching her neck muscles.

"Alexis Erica Fluke." Whenever I refer to her, I always give her full name. "The name Erica was selected in honor of Abby's mother." I went into a bit more into about it in the previous paragraph.

"All right... and with that, let's get back to dinner," you said. As soon as she's gotten started talking about something, it doesn't take her very long to switch gears and talk about something else.

"What are your thoughts on that?" "What do you think about that?" I am curious, but at the same time giving my eyes a tiny roll.

"Would you be willing to host it?" "Are you willing to host it?" While she is asking, you can see that she is trying to convince you with her eyes.

"Are you quite certain that you won't lead him to leave because of what you've done?" I ask. When I gaze at Maya, she sometimes gives me that weird expression. "I mean that you are going to bring him to a dinner where one of your friends is going to celebrate their wedding, and another friend of yours is going to celebrate the fact that they have recently become parents. It's likely that he thinks that you want him to propose to you or that you want to establish a family with him. Both of these things are plausible explanations." I provided some extra background information.

"That is not at all what he will be thinking in any way, shape, or form. What I would like most is for him to become acquainted with some of my other close friends." According to her, I am able to pick up on a frightened quality in her voice that she is attempting to cover up with laughter. I am able to recognize this quality in her voice.

It is pretty obvious to me at this point that I should not have offered her any advice or suggestions. It is not required for her to give any thought to the possibility that her lover would end their relationship with her around the time of the holidays.

"Maya, I ask for your forgiveness for planting that concept in your head. It's possible that he won't look at it that way, but I'm ready to bet against it." I am making an attempt to improve myself in light of my previous mistake.

"No, you have a point." The remark is made by her as she is seated on the couch. "It goes without saying that I want to build a family one day by getting married and having children of my own. But at the same time, I want to live in the here and now as much as possible. Explore, travel. There are a lot of other things I want to finish before I can find a place to call home, so I won't be settling down for a while." She utters these words while dabbing some tissue over her eyes. You stated that "all of that is something that I want to do with Kevin," and it is true that you do want to do all of that. She utters as another torrent of tears flows down her cheeks. "I'm very sorry," she sobs.

I'm at a loss for words, so all I can do is give her a hug and try to tell her that everything is going to be well.