Page 31 of Longing for the Minotaur
After another pass around the circle, I open a gift from Val. It’s a sweatshirt from our college. Exactly the sort of gift a stepsister gets for her stepbrother. Normal. Not romantic at all.
Then, Valentina picks up a small wrapped box with her name on it.
Oh, fuck.
I meant to give that to her last night, when we were alone. But I set it under the tree and completely forgot to grab it when she came to my room.
Fuckety fuck fuck.
Curious, Val reads the tag and then glances up at me. I can’t really snatch it away from her now, or I would look extra ridiculous. I had it wrapped at the store where I bought it, so it’s got real fancy gold and red paper and an elaborate bow. Everyone watches as Valentina peels the tape carefully, trying to save the adorable paper—even though it’s just going to get recycled anyway—revealing a long, flat, black box.
Her eyes dart up to mine again, this time, confused. I shake my head and drop it into my hands as she opens the box.
“Oh, wow,” she breathes. My mom and her dad both lean forward to get a better look as she takes off the lid. “Thank you, Banon.”
Inside is the silver necklace I bought, the one I meant to give her last night. A shining, bright red ruby cut in a pendant shape hangs from the chain—simple and yet elegant, the kind of jewelry that is both a statement piece and will match most of what she wears.
Her dad is the first person to break the silence. He whistles as he takes the box from her to get a better look.
“Wow,” he says, glancing down at the velvet bed where the necklace is held in place, then back up at me. “This is real nice.”
I don’t even know what to say. I wish I could get swallowed up by the earth. It couldn’t be more obvious now that I’ve got feelings of some kind for Val, after giving her something like this in front of everyone.
“Yep, well, I thought Val, uh, deserved something nice.”
Fred chuckles. “You’re right. It’s a beautiful gift.”
I don’t have the heart to look at my mother. My stepdad is oblivious, yes, but I know she’s not so simple to fool. But she doesn’t say anything. Val takes the necklace out of the box, admiring it while casting me a look that says,What the hell?
Instead, Mom says, “Let me put it on you, honey,” in a gentle, motherly voice. Val kneels in front of the couch. The much larger minotaur delicately takes the necklace, opening the clasp to hang it from Val’s neck. Then she reconnects it, and Val lets her dark hair back down.
“Turn around?” Mom asks, and Val obeys, rising to her feet. The ruby pendant hangs down just above the indent between her breasts. It’s almost indecent, the way it highlights the soft mounds that are visible, the deep red of the ruby like wine or blood.
“It’s beautiful on you, Val.” Mom turns to me, and to my surprise, her eyes are soft. “A wonderful gift, Banon.”
I gnash my teeth together. Why does it feel like she knows something but isn’t willing to say it?
Because she’s daring me. She knows my secret,oursecret, and she’s daring me to tell her the truth.
Val is watching us, her expression growing more worried.
“Yeah, it is wonderful,” Val echoes. “Thanks again.” She tries to sound light and airy, but I know she’s uneasy.
But the rest of the presents go normally, and no one questions either of us any further about the necklace. Together, we make Christmas dinner—which is yet another massive production—and all of us are exhausted by the end of it.
Still, afterward, my mother asks me, “Do you want to go on a walk with me, kiddo?”
Val sits up, glancing between us like she’s waiting to be invited, but the invitation never comes.
I nod and swallow. “Yeah, sure.”
It feels like I’m signing my own death warrant as we put on our scarves and then head out into the snow, leaving Val and Fred behind to take care of the dishes. I shove my hands in my pockets, hoping Mom’s not about to ask me what I think she’s going to ask me.
Instead, we both walk in silence along the path around the neighborhood, which must have gotten plowed this morning. Despite it being Christmas, some plow guy was out working.
Plow guy never gets a break.
“Banon,” Mom says at last, shattering the silence of the snow around us. “Do you love Valentina?”
