It's All Good

by Nikki Carter

  “Hand me the milk,” Candy says.

  “Umm ... it has a number two and an M on it. What do you think that means?”

  “It means that’s the second thing I’m cooking and the M is for macaroni and cheese,” my mom says. “Drop the food girls, I’ve got a system going on here.”

  “Well, we want to make some pancakes for breakfast,” Candy whines.

  “You all better get a piece of toast and get up out of my kitchen unless you’re planning to help.”

  Candy replies, “Excuse me! I thought we were helping by making breakfast.”

  “It really doesn’t make any difference to me,” I say. “I’m not hungry, so I don’t need to make any pancakes. I was doing that for Candy.”

  “I will need you two in a little while, once we get over to your uncle Robert’s house. I’m doing the majority of the cooking over there.”

  “Is Grandma here yet?” I ask.

  “Yes. Your aunt and uncle went to get Grandma and Aunt Penny from the airport last night.”

  I hear my phone buzzing in my bedroom. “Someone’s calling me.”

  I dash back into the room just in time to miss the call. It was Hope. I press the Send button to call her right back.

  “Merry Christmas!” Hope squeals into my ear.

  “Merry Christmas right back at ya. Is Grandma awake yet?”

  “Yep, and she’s making breakfast—waffles and stuff. Y’all coming early?”

  “I don’t think my mom is. She’s doing something to the turkey. Maybe Ricky will bring me over there.”

  “If you had your own license you could come on your own,” Hope teases.

  “Whatever! Did Ricky tell you about our little lesson? I almost perished in that car. No thank you, ma’am. Plus, you don’t have yours either, so shut up.”

  “Well, I don’t need mine because the waffles are getting cooked over here,” Hope taunts. “Is that blueberries I smell, Grandma?”

  I hang up on Hope when she says something about warm, sweet syrup. I’m not trying to hear that, especially since I’m holding a dry piece of wheat bread in my hand. It’s not even toasted!

  I press the numbers in to call Ricky. “Merry Christmas, Gi-Gi. What it do?”

  “Merry Christmas, Ricky Ricardo. You hungry?”

  “Famished! Nobody is awake here.”

  “My grandmother is making waffles over at Pastor Stokes’s house. You down?”

  “Give me fifteen minutes to get to you and then it’s on and popping!”

  I laugh out loud. “You are greedy with a capital G.”

  “Whatever. The only reason you called me was to get a ride to the food.”

  “You got me. But right now, you’re still talking instead of showering. I need to get something on, too.”

  “See you in a sec.”

  “Holla.”

  I poke my head out of my bedroom door and say, “Candy, if you want Grandma Stokes’s waffles, be ready in fifteen minutes. Ricky’s coming to take us over there.”

  “But aren’t we going to open gifts and stuff?” Candy asks.

  My mom interjects, “We usually do that over at my brother’s house. You can go if you want.”

  “Grandma Stokes’s waffles are the bomb diggity. Come on and get dressed. If you aren’t ready by the time Ricky gets here we’re leaving you.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Candy and I are dashing out the door. On my way out, I notice that my mom is doing something totally inhumane to that turkey. Well, it would be inhumane if the turkey were still living, but since it’s about to be dinner ...

  “Mom, are you okay? Do you need any help?”

  My mother pulls her arm out of the turkey’s behind and waves a little packet in the air. “Got it!”

  “Mom?”

  “No, Gia. I’m fine. Why don’t you and Candy pack our gifts into Ricky’s car so that LeRon and I don’t have to.”

  I wave for Ricky to come in, so that he can help. Why? Because I try not to lift too many heavy boxes when there are boys around. I’m all for girl power, but they like carrying stuff. It makes them feel good.

  Ricky steps inside as Hope and I gather the boxes and put them by the door. He’s looking extra nice with his thick brown leather coat and Timberland boots. Even this early in the morning, his caramel skin and big brown eyes are looking real nice.

  He completely and totally shocks me by giving me a big hug. “Merry Christmas!”

  “Merry Christmas, Ricky!” Candy says, giving Ricky a hug too.

  I’m sooo glad Candy did that, because I could feel my mother’s antennae go up when Ricky spun me around the room. She’s got to see how fine Ricky is looking right now, so if she hasn’t already suspected some crushing, she probably will now.

  “Merry Christmas, Sister Gwen!” Ricky says. “That turkey looks like it’s met its match.”

  “Hey Ricky, Merry Christmas,” Mom replies with a little giggle.

  She sounds like she’s having fun, so even if the turkey ends up burnt and dry, I guess it will have been worth it. But I’m really hoping for a Christmas miracle like in one of those family movies they always show on the holiday. Maybe someone will sprinkle some kind of dust on my mom when she starts cooking!

  Ricky grabs a pile of presents and heads out the door. I try to hurry behind him, because I don’t want to answer any of the unspoken questions that I see on my mom’s face. But y’all know how Gwen does.

  “Candy, you go on and help Ricky. I want to talk to Ms. Gia for a minute.”

  Aw, dang. Why I gotta be Ms. Gia? That means that she’s tripping on something.

  “What’s up with you and Ricky?” Gwen asks as soon as they’re out of the house.

  “Nothing’s up. Why do you ask?”

  My mom narrows her eyes. “If nothing’s up, then why can’t you look at me? He’s got a little crush, doesn’t he?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “What about you? You have a crush too?”

  Again, I shrug. “We’re best friends, Mom.”

  “Well, best friends or not, I need to keep an eye on you two,” my mom says. “You all aren’t babies anymore, and Ricky is turning out to be a little hottie.”

  The smile creeps up on me before I can stop it. My mom continues. “See! I knew you thought he was cute. Go on over to your uncle’s house.”

  “Okay.”

  “Just remember, I’m watching you.”

  “Yes, Mom. I know.”

  I’m so happy to see my grandmother and Aunt Penny. They haven’t visited since my mom and LeRon got married, and they live all the way in St. Louis, Missouri. Grandma went to live with Aunt Penny a few years ago when she got too sick to live alone.

  I give my grandmother a gigantic hug. “Grandma Stokes! You’re here!”

  “Yes, baby, I’m here! Candy, come give your grandmother a hug.”

  A huge smile beams from Candy’s face. I think she wondered if she’d be accepted as family during a Stokes Christmas, but everyone is family to my grandmother. She’s cool like that. Candy wraps her arms around my grandmother’s neck and hangs on for dear life.

  “And is that Ricky Freeman?” Grandma Stokes asks. “Boy, you are getting more and more handsome every time I see you.”

  Aunt Penny chimes in, “Gia, you better snag him before someone else does.”

  I roll my eyes. “You two are going to give him a big head with all that.”

  “I’m serious!” Aunt Penny says. “If you were about ten years older, I’d give you my number.”

  Ricky is completely embarrassed now, and his face is a hilarious shade of red. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Didn’t someone say there were waffles here? I’m hungry.”

  The aroma of the waffles floats in from the kitchen. It smells like those funnel cakes that you get at the amusement park. You know how you can smell the sugar rising up off of them. Grandma Stokes can put the mack on some waffles.

  Candy asks, “Can we eat? T
hey smell so good.”

  “Help yourself, baby!” Grandma Stokes says.

  Aunt Penny adds, “Y’all better get full too, because it might be the only decent meal y’all get all day long.”

  Pastor Stokes comes in from the den. “Penny, don’t start. Gwen is working really hard on the dinner, and when she brings the food over here, we’re all going to help. Isn’t that right, girls?”

  Candy and I nod. Where is the third kitchen helper? While we’re out here agreeing to be my mom’s kitchen guinea pigs, Hope is sitting at a bar stool in the kitchen, stuffing a syrup-soaked waffle down her throat. Just plain old greedy.

  Candy, Ricky, and I take off our coats, wash our hands, and dig into the breakfast buffet my grandmother has prepared. I don’t know what my mom is talking about. Grandma Stokes doesn’t seem sick at all, and whatever is bothering her sure didn’t stop her from making a slamming breakfast.

  “When is your mother coming over here with that husband of hers?” Aunt Penny asks.

  “I don’t know. I think she was prepping the turkey and then they were coming.”

  Penny laughs. “I guarantee you that Gwen knows nothing about prepping a turkey. Why didn’t she just bring it over here?”

  “Now, Penny, we’re not having any mess outta you and Gwen today,” Grandma Stokes says as she walks slowly back into the kitchen. “You’re a good cook, so give your sister a hand. This is the day we celebrate the birth of the Lord. I don’t want no mess.”

  Well, Grandma Stokes done laid down the law. They better listen up too, because I think my grandmother is not above taking her cane to one of them. Actually, it might be funny to see my mom getting a beat-down. It might be something for the record books.

  Hope says, “Bring your plates downstairs so we can open our gifts.”

  “But Kevin isn’t here yet,” Ricky objects.

  “Yes he is! He’s downstairs on Daddy’s couch taking a nap. Y’all know Kevin is always the first one here. Deacon and Mother Witherspoon already came to say Merry Christmas.”

  We take our plates down into the game room, where there is a table already set up with a tablecloth.

  “Wake up, Kev!” I shout when I’m close to Kevin’s ear.

  He sits up straight on the couch and has a hilarious, disoriented look on his face. He’s been chilling so hard that he’s got couch lines on his cheek. Not a good look.

  “Present time!” Hope sings.

  She makes little piles of gifts for everyone. We’ll open our parents’ gifts later, but this is the time when the crew opens gifts. This is Candy’s first year, so she’s got to learn the rules.

  Ricky explains. “Everybody picks a number, and then we go around in order, opening one gift at a time, until everything is opened.”

  “Cool,” Hope says.

  Kevin passes around the hat and we pick the numbers. Great—I’m number five, so I won’t get to see Ricky’s gift until last. Because of course, I’m opening his gift last. Candy picks the number one.

  “I’m opening my sister’s gift first,” Candy says, “since this is our first Christmas as a family.”

  Okay, that almost made me get a little emotional. But I’m too fly for that. I give Candy a little wink and nod.

  Candy claps her hands together. “A House of Deréon tee! It’s cute. Thank you, Gia.”

  And then she jumps up and kisses me on the cheek. Aw, dang. Didn’t expect that, and now I’m losing all kinds of cool points for tearing up. Ack.

  Kevin is next and he opens Hope’s gift. He holds up a fly Fossil watch that we scored on sale. “Thanks, Hope. That’s hot.”

  Hope opens Ricky’s gift first. “Paris Hilton perfume! Yay! You’re good, Ricky.”

  Ricky and I share a glance. The perfume is an inside joke between me and Ricky. We always say that Hope thinks she’s a black Paris. But of course, we always say this behind her back.

  Ricky opens Kevin’s gift, and it’s a pair of leather driving gloves. “Good looking out, Kev. I wonder when Gia will need driving gloves?”

  “Why the jokes? It’s Christmas Day!” I fuss. “I’m opening Candy’s gift.”

  It’s a very cute jean miniskirt. It’s fresh, but something I’d absolutely never wear. I smile anyway.

  “Thank you, Candy!”

  “You’re welcome. I noticed that there weren’t enough minis in your closet. One can never have enough minis.”

  “Is that so?” I ask.

  “Yeah. So once you break it in, I’ll borrow it from you. I’ve got some little pink boots that would look flawless with it.”

  I chuckle to myself. Isn’t it just like a little sister to buy a gift for you that she really wants for herself? It’s all good though. I’m not mad at her.

  Now it’s Candy’s turn to open her presents. She snatches Kevin’s gift. “This is a big ol’ box.”

  Kevin grins. “Hurry up and open it.”

  Inside the box is a huge teddy bear holding a heart in its hands. Um ... I’m not sure if I authorize this gift!

  “Thank you, Kevin. This is sweet! I’m gonna put him on my dresser so I can hug him every night before I go to sleep.”

  Ugh! Kevin is totally blushing. Are they crushing for real? Go figure!

  We go back around and everyone else has their turns opening gifts. I get a purse from Hope and a pretty stationery set from Kevin.

  Finally, it’s time for Ricky to open my gift. He’s saved mine for last, too. I feel like I’m sitting on pins and needles as he tears open the paper. He pulls away the tissue paper and gives a huge smile.

  “Gia got me a Titans jersey! And a hat. This is fresh to death, Gia. Thank you!”

  I’m so glad that he loves his gift! I get the feeling that if we weren’t in a room full of our friends, he’d show me his appreciation with more than a smile. I guess that means it’s a good thing that we’re all down here together. Right?

  Okay, I just gave myself the tight-lipped side eye.

  Everyone’s eyes are on me as I open the tiny box that has Ricky’s name on it. I wouldn’t be mad if it was another charm, because he picks the prettiest ones. But once I get the box open I see that it’s not another charm. It’s a beautiful, jeweled butterfly hair clip.

  “It’s gorgeous, Ricky,” I gasp.

  “There’s a story behind it, and we’re all fam here, so I’ll tell it to everybody. It’s supposed to be like symbolic of when a caterpillar turns into a butterfly.”

  I narrow my eyes. “You calling me a caterpillar?”

  “No, but when we were in the ninth grade, you didn’t have your style yet and you were still figuring out who Gia was,” Ricky explains. “Now, you know who you are, and you’re out of your cocoon, like a butterfly.”

  A single tear slides down my face. Yeah, a single tear. Don’t hate. Please do not hate.

  Hope gushes, “Aww ... stop it!”

  Kevin hurls a couch pillow at Ricky. “Yeah, man! You just broke man law with that gift. A butterfly?”

  I wipe the tear away and crack up laughing with everyone else. My friends are the bomb diggity.

  But back to Ricky and the random sentimental gift. I don’t know what to say. He’s been completely scary these past few weeks. First, he was on some “don’t go acting all weird” stuff and now he’s buying charms, planning birthday parties, and telling me I’m a butterfly. What gives?

  I grab his arm, pull him into the pool-table room and close the glass door. Everyone can still see us, but they just can’t hear our conversation.

  “Ricky, what’s up?” I ask.

  “What’s up with what?”

  “Right before we went to state you asked me if I was gonna start acting weird over that charm bracelet. But you’re the one acting ... well you’re not acting like yourself.”

  Ricky sighs and leans on the edge of the pool table. “I really like you, Gia.”

  “I know.”

  “You know? Wow, you’re cocky, aren’t you?”

  “Not trying t
o be cocky, just trying to help you along.”

  Ricky laughs. “I like you, but I don’t want us to stop being friends. So, I’m like really tripping on doing any of this stuff. But then I saw that bracelet, and I just had to get it because it made me think of you.”

  “And the barrette?”

  “I thought it would look pretty in your hair,” he replies. “Gia, you got me doing all kinds of sucka type stuff. That ought to count for something.”

  “It does count.”

  We’re silent for a moment, but it’s not awkward. It’s like we’re trying to regroup for round two. The lightning round.

  “Can we not make it official just yet?” Ricky asks.

  I bite my lip, not quite sure why we’re waiting. “Sure, Ricky. I can wait.”

  He exhales a sigh—it sounds like relief. “Good. Because I wouldn’t want you going off with some other dude, just because it wasn’t official.”

  “Never that, Ricky Ricardo. Never that.”

  I don’t know what to make of this conversation. Ricky just asked me if his gifts count for something. I guess they count toward him learning how to crush. But then he almost asked me to be his official girl.

  Wow to infinity.

  If my life was like a Disney sitcom, this would be the part where the magic of Christmas touches Gwen’s cooking skills and she pulls off the perfect dinner. Um ... yeah. Operative word—if.

  My mom had refused any help in the kitchen from any of us, especially Aunt Penny. I think it mostly had to do with the fact that Aunt Penny bought her a cookbook for her Christmas gift.

  Speaking of gifts, I got a whole bunch of clothes from my mom and LeRon, and gift cards from everyone else. Score! They know me so well.

  On the table is a deeply browned turkey. Actually, it’s nearly blackened. The pans of dressing and macaroni and cheese have a wet, soupy consistency and the yams look mushed and sticky. It’s some of Gwen’s best work!

  Our whole family is seated around the table. Kevin and Ricky escaped soon after my mom declared she didn’t want any help.

  My uncle clears his throat. “Uh, let’s bless the food.”

  “Somebody needs to read that turkey its last rites,” Aunt Penny says with a giggle.

  My mom glares at her sister all the way through the prayer.