Andi Jaxon

yells something, then hands it to me to open. It looks like a kid’s Xbox controller with a face on it and different colored buttons. Probably makes a lot of noise.
I’m handed some scissors and get it open for her while Jordan and Keith open stuff up next, new games, then Jeremy gets a new hoodie with the Lumberjacks logo on it. He laughs and pulls it on. Around and around they go, I help Ella open all her things and show her how they work. I’m grateful for the task, honestly. By the end of it all, there’s a big mess of wrapping paper and packaging. The younger boys go and grab garbage bags and everyone starts cleaning up.
Ella shows me a box she has decided is the best thing ever, puts it on the ground, and crawls inside to sit.
“Ope, hold on, there’s another one.” Jeremy’s mom pulls something out from the other side of the tree. “Preston.” She reads the name tag and hands it to me.
What the hell?
I look at Jeremy but he’s watching his grandma. My palms are suddenly sweaty, so I wipe them on my pants before reaching for the box wrapped in red and white-striped paper.
The tag says To Preston, From Grandma and Grandpa Brown. Now I’m nervous. What the hell is it? I only got here yesterday, did they go out and buy something for me? I didn’t bring them anything. Guilt eats at me as I stare at the package.
“Open it.” Jeremy bumps my shoulder with his.
Glancing around, I see everyone is watching me. My face flushes at the attention.
Carefully, I open the wrapping paper to find a brown box. Jeremy hands me scissors to cut through the tape, and with shaking fingers, I lift the flaps and tissue paper. I sit in stunned silence, staring at what has to be a quilt.
Blue, snowflake, and hockey inspired fabrics laid out in a star shape. My throat burns as I stare at it, my head spinning too fast to focus on any one thought.
Jeremy clears his throat. “Grandma makes quilts in her spare time.”
My eyes, glassy with tears, meet his grandmother’s.
“You.” I swallow past the lump threatening to choke me. “You made this?”
She smiles at me and nods. “Everyone in the family has one.”
The implications of that hit me square in the chest. I don’t know how to process this. Why would she give me this? She’s barely met me. I don’t have words for what is racing through my head.
Handing the box to Jeremy, I stand and walk up to her, wrapping my arms around her in a hug.
“Oh,” she squeaks in surprise right before she hugs me back.
“I…Uh, I’m…” I sniffle tears back but don’t know what to say.
She rubs my back, squeezing me tightly. “You’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” I manage to get out, wiping tears from my face over her shoulder.
I drop down to kneeling so I’m not towering over her and just let her hug me. I don’t remember the last hug I got from my grandmother or my mother but I know it’s been at least eleven years. I don’t remember what either of them sounded like or smelled like, what their laugh was like, and I was never allowed to grieve for them.
Vaguely, I’m aware of people leav

They say everything happens for a reason. That you’re never given more than you can handle. To trust the process. Well, I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but disrespectfully, they can go fuck themselves.
Without lube.

“I could never sit for one tattoo, let alone do all this,” I said, running my hands over his wet skin. “You know I get queasy at the sight of blood.”
“Like the time I fell off my skateboard and cut my leg open?” He grinned darkly.
I groaned. “Why did you have to bring that up?”
“Because I was the one bleeding all over the driveway and yet you were the one who got to ride in the ambulance!”