Page 83 of Pictures in Blue
After we finished eating,we split up into teams for a volleyball match which is apparently an ongoing thing they do throughout the year, even through the winter. Ethan explained they bundle up in all their winter gear and continue the game until their fingers are numb and their boots are soaked through. They go inside and spend the rest of the day with hot chocolate, s’mores by the fire, and Christmas movies playing in the background while they play Scrabble. The way Ethan talked about it made me want to stay to be able to experience it all with them.
A traditional family Christmas. The complete opposite of my childhood. We never really had anything traditional other than watching the occasional Christmas movie. But to Sharon, Christmas was always a holiday “created by the greeting card companies” even though she was fully aware how ridiculous of an argument that was. She just used it as an excuse to forgo any kind of celebration or gift-giving. But being the hypocrite that she is, she always expected the man she was dating at the time to buy her some kind of gift. Preferably one she could pawn later when they inevitably broke up. Even though she didn’t fully believe in the holiday, she still made a slim effort to be nice to me. But even that was surface level.
The weight of her expectations and criticisms sits heavily on my shoulders, a burden filled with a lifetime of insults that still ring through my head at the most inconvenient times. Usually when I’m getting dressed, trying to find things that fit, or picking myself apart in front of the mirror. There was even a time in my life that I physically covered up the mirror with a blanket, so I couldn’t stand in front of it and criticize myself from every angle. My therapist was actually the one that suggested that, taking away the ability and the temptation to stand there before I got dressed and stare at myself looking for flaws I could pick apart.
“Avery, are you ready?” I shake my head and look at Hudson on the other side of the net, a volleyball stretched out in front of him, his body crouched, ready to serve it over. He must’ve said my name more than once because Sky and Isabelle have their heads angled toward me, a look of concern filling Isabelle’s features. Sky’s expression is stoic, but questioning.
“Yeah, sorry,” I say, avoiding Hudson’s gaze and squatting in a position to show him I am ready.
“Head in the game, Reid,” says Sky. “I am not going to lose to these assholes the first day I come back.”
We had decided to split up the teams guys versus girls, because Sky was sure that we could kick their asses. Her words not mine. I may run frequently, but that does not mean that I am coordinated, especially when it comes to a sport like volleyball where you have to be constantly aware of what’s going on.
I’m more of a baseball gal. Standing in the outfield, hanging out and kicking the grass, waiting for the ball to come to me. It’s a more chill sport, more my speed. Volleyball is all about quick thinking. Something that I do not have a majority of the time.
Hudson serves the ball with a loudthump, and it comes straight to me. I put my hands together in the position he showed me before the game started. I hit it up in the air and it goes toward Sky who sets it up for her mom.
I had expected Isabelle to change out of her long skirt and button up shirt, but she insisted on playing in the clothes that she had on. However, she did copy me and Ethan by taking off her shoes along with everyone else. Everyone is barefoot and it is the weirdest, most wholesome thing I think I’ve ever seen.
But the most amazing thing is seeing Hudson‘s 50 year old mother jump up in the air and spike the ball over the net like she is 20 years younger, scoring us yet another point, because we are indeed kicking their asses.
We huddle together in the center on our side and give each other high-fives. I pat Isabelle on the back and give Hudson a taunting look.
I can feel Hudson’s frustration from here and Sky, turning around to verbally taunt him further is the cherry on top. Because he was cocky before the game. He and Elias were cocky bastards, and George…well, George didn’t seem like he really cared all that much. Considering he is standing on the other side, the crossword puzzle still in hand trying to figure out the rest of the clues. It is almost comical, watching him step aside when the volleyball comes to him.
Finally, Hudson goes over to him, and kindly takes the crossword puzzle out of his hand, folds it up and places it and his pencil in his back pocket.
“You can have these back when we’re done playing.”
George just rolls his eyes and laughs at his son, but he does turn around toward the net, and prepares for what is now my serve. I may not be coordinated for the eye on the ball parts of the game, but what Hudson doesn’t know is I did play softball in high school, so I have a killer arm. I throw the ball up in the air and serve it straight to Hudson, who only just nicks it on the tip of his clasped hands, but it goes wide and hits the fence with a satisfyingthwack.
After a few more volleys, the game is finally over with Sky spiking it on the other side right in front of her dad who doesn’t put much effort into reaching the ball. I’m pretty sure he’s more worried about getting back to his crossword.
Sure enough, as we all trail back inside, George is already settled on the couch, deep in thought about the next clue. Isabelle and Ethan perch themselves on the bar stools at the island with the baked sugar cookies in front of them. Royal icing of varying colors sits in bowls lined up ready to be spread on the cookies. Sky picks up a cookie and starts nibbling at it as I grab the stool next to Ethan.
My phone starts buzzing in my pocket and a sense of foreboding enters my body. Luckily everyone is so busy grabbing cookies to decorate, they don’t seem to notice me stiffening.
“You okay?” No one besides Hudson, apparently. He plays with my ribbon before placing a hand at the base of my neck, fingers kneading in circles.
I stare at my phone for a few seconds before hitting the red button, ignoring Sharon’s call and then place it on do not disturb. Her call from earlier seems so far away and I had almost forgotten about it during the game and time with this family. Leave it to her to pull me out of being happy.
“Have you ever decorated cookies before?” Ethan asks.
I lean forward, Hudson’s body moving in sync with mine and I immediately feel grateful for his presence and I suddenly wish we were back at his cabin, hidden from the world under his sheets, tangled in each other. My mind drifts to how his skin felt against mine as he moved inside me, hands guiding me and tangling in my hair before reaching down to—
Hudson clears his throat, startling me. I cross my legs and grab one of the cactus-shaped cookies along with a bowl of green icing, ignoring Hudson’s smirk.
“I can’t say I have. Will you teach me?” It comes out in a jumble. Ignoring Hudson’s laugh from behind me, I keep my eyes on Ethan ready for instruction.
“Well, you can either spread the icing with a knife, or put it in a piping bag if you want to be fancier with it, or, my personal favorite, dunk the top of the cookie right into the bowl.” He proceeds to do exactly as he said and dunks the cookie into his bowl of bright blue icing. Once he’s done, he sets it on the parchment paper spread out in front of him and tops it with bright pink sprinkles, sinking into the surface of the icing almost completely hiding the blue underneath.
“One thing about cookie decorating, you can never have enough sprinkles,” he says in a serious tone.
I copy his actions and top mine with dark green sprinkles to contrast with the bright icing and present my cactus to him for inspection. He twists his mouth to the side in contemplation before he grabs the sprinkles and proceeds to cover the top of the cookie.
“There,” he proclaims. “Perfect.”
Once the cookies are decorated and drying on the counter, I help Isabelle with clean-up and am at the sink rinsing out the icing bowls when the questions I have been dreading start to permeate the air.
