Page 74 of Noel I Won’t
With the gifts all opened, Mom put on a Christmas movie. I cuddled in against Hopper’s side, content to stay there forever as he stroked my hair.
Around 2:00 p.m., the doorbell rang. Hopper tensed beside me.
Mom went to answer, and Hopper’s dad came in. I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t ruin this peaceful day for my boyfriend.
Richard Kelly smiled tentatively, tipping his head, and held out a tote bag dangling from two fingers.
“I don’t want to intrude. Just brought a couple of gifts over.”
Hopper pushed off the couch. “Hey, Dad. You didn’t have to do that. I would have come by later.”
“I wasn’t sure after that scolding you gave me last week.” He shifted nervously. “I guess I needed to hear it.” He cleared his throat, a nervous habit I’d noticed Hopper had, too. “You shouldn’t have to deal with my issues. You’ve got a good thing here.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t want you in my life,” Hopper said tentatively. “I just need things to change.”
“I want that, too.” His dad thrust out the tote bag. “I’ll try harder.”
Hopper took the bag from him and withdrew one of the gifts. It was a scrapbook, and when Hopper opened it, it was full of photos of him, his mother, and his father.
“Oh, your mom was beautiful,” I said, standing to look over his shoulder. Hopper got his hair color from her, along with the shape of his eyes. His build and jawline were all his dad.
“She was my ray of light,” Hopper’s dad said, blinking hard. “She really was the best of me.”
“And she gave you Hopper,” I said.
“That’s right. He’s the best of both of us. Great kid. Couldn’t have gotten luckier.” He tapped the album. “Just wanted to show you that I haven’t forgotten what’s important. I love that kid in there. He grew up to be a real good man. A better man than me.”
Hopper hugged his dad, and I could see how much he’d needed to hear that—even from a father who had his flaws.
The second gift was a basket of gourmet cheeses and crackers for my parents.
“You’ve all taken good care of my boy. Just wanted to say thanks for that.”
“Oh, it’s our pleasure,” Mom said. “He’s taken good care of us, too.”
“I’m sure he has,” his dad said. “Hopper always had the biggest heart.” He sniffed and wiped at the corner of an eye. “Well, I should be on my way. Just wanted to drop those gifts off. Sorry I didn’t have one for you, Noel. I didn’t realize you two had gotten so close.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I’ll just eat my parents’ cheese.”
He chuckled. “Well, all right. You all enjoy your holiday.” He took a step back toward the door.
I saw the regret on both Kelly men’s faces.
“Why don’t you stay awhile?” I suggested. “We’re just relaxing and watching holiday movies. We can break open this cheese basket and have some snacks.”
He looked uncertainly at Hopper, who nodded. Then he smiled tentatively. “Yeah, all right. Thanks.”
We all retook our seats, me snuggled up against Hopper in the corner of the sofa. Mom beside us, making Cinnamon settle for a spot at our feet, and Dad in his favorite recliner. Hop’s dad perched in the rocker Mom usually favored.
We watched movies, ate and drank, and enjoyed the relaxed company until dark fell and Mr. Kelly took his leave.
The tree glowed red, green, and blue as Hopper and I cleaned up wrapping paper, snack trays, and mugs while Mom and Dad made their way to bed.
“I didn’t expect my father to listen to me,” Hopper said as we took everything to the kitchen. “Maybe Christmas miracles do exist.”
I chuckled. “It’s not a miracle that he loves you, Hop.”
“It won’t last,” he said, as if he had to warn me. “He’s trying now, but…he’ll fall off the wagon. He always does.”
