On the Altar

Chapter 13

POV-Christian, age 20

Wow, she looks beautiful....

Hey, I don't think we've met. But I'm pretty sure if you know my sister, she's called me a stronzo more than once. Yeah, my fault for gifting her the copy of Love & Gelato on her thirteenth birthday.

I'm Christian Mason, or Chris.

But man, Misty looks beautiful.

She's been this way since we were kids. So beautiful, but she just didn't care. She was the smart kid on the block who helped you with homework, and you couldn't help but crush on her. Boys used to pile up behind her in a line every Valentines' Day. But she never knew.

Because, I, obviously, waved them away.

Why?

I love her.

And, yes. That is love without a d. Present tense.

I was crazy enough to let her go once, but I don't care about competition now.

She was, and always will be, mine.

"Hey kids! Go into the living room. Kayla and Ray are sipping eggnog. Give them company." says Grandpa Watson and I see silhouettes moving on the foyer.

My sister enters with Misty, and my heart starts to beat. She still has the same shoulder-length brown hair she's had since middle school. Her eyes are as blue as ever. And she still towers over my sister, albeit not much.

No one from my family has forgiven me for hurting Misty. But her family has.

Ironic, huh?

Christy was a wild child, and even I gave up on her. Near to the time of my break up with Misty, Christy had to be checked in to rehab, and no one from my family believed in her.

Misty did, though.

And now, my baby sister's back with the color in her cheeks matching her hair almost perfectly.

I hope she doesn't screw up again. Mom and Dad have made it pretty clear that she has no place in the house if she steps another toe out of line.

When Christy and Misty enter the room, it feels full of life. Misty's Mom stands up cheerily to hug her and says something about her weight.

She's never looked better.

Then, Kayla inspects Christy up and down and says something about her hair, which is up in a ponytail as usual. Christy wards off the comment with a shake of her head and Kayla engulfs her in a bear hug.

I never get such treatment, but, well, I am the boy who hurt her baby girl, so...

Then, Ray gets up from the couch and gets all three of them in a huge bear hug. All of them are a huge giggling mess, but what a beautiful mess it is!

At that moment, Grandma and Grandpa Watson enter the living room. Grandma says with a smile, "Now, sweethearts, it's time to sleep. Off you go!" 

"But Grandma!" both Christy and Misty groan. I swear, they are so in sync, it's creepy. When Jen is added to the mix, it's downright terrifying.

"We don't wanna sleep." Christy complains and Grandma gives her a look which tells her to stop arguing. "Well, princess, it's eleven-thirty, on Christmas Eve, all of us know Santa doesn't exist so no point in staying up waiting for him. You will wake up tomorrow at eight, so set your alarms."  she says sweetly and we end up obeying her.

I go up the stairs to the room on the right corner, where I always stay when I'm here. The navy blue walls greet me as does the mahogany study table in the corner. I lay in my bed, all thoughts in my head about one person only.

Today, I plan.

And tomorrow, I win her back.

_____

I wake up at eight fifteen in the morning, after pressing snooze twice on my alarm, wondering how Grandma hadn't come in to wake me up yet. I shower and wear a pair of shorts and my Stanford t-shirt and go down the stairs. 

There, I notice three things. 

A. The giant Christmas tree.

B. Christy, sitting under it, a crying mess.

C. Misty, screaming at my parents in Spanish.

Yeah, I'm some part Spanish from Mom's side of the family, but that isn't the matter to discuss now.

"¿Cómo has podido hacernos esto, Christy?" My Mom says angrily, the bags from lack of sleep evident under her eyes. 

How could you do this to us, Christy?

Christy doesn't respond, but I see her face that is flushed from crying and I see a mark on her face which resembles four fingers.

"¿por qué estás tan balístico, Mrs. Mason? Christy es tu hija. Ella es una niña. Tiene que cometer errores para aprender de ellos y crecer. ¡Es tu trabajo guiarla a través de ellos, no repudiarla cuando está vulnerable y embarazada!" Misty replies angrily.

Why are you going ballistic, Mrs. Mason? Christy is your daughter.  She is a child. She has to make mistakes in order to learn from them and grow up. It's your job to guide her through them, not disown her when she's vulnerable and pregnant!

She called my mother crazy and what now? Christy's pregnant?

"Oh, ¡no me digas qué hacer y qué no hacer! Soy su madre, y así es como aprenderá a asumir la responsabilidad de sus acciones." My mother says 

Oh, don't tell me what to do and what not to do! I'm her mother, and this is how she will learn to take responsibility for her actions.

"Wow, Mom, that's harsh." I say aloud and that is when everyone finally notices me. Misty says, "Tell your crazy mother that the children do not need her, and neither does Christy. You're happy to support us if you want to, Mr. Mason." She ends and looks at my Dad, who looks baffled and Misty smirks and continues, "Well, that's what I expected. What about you, Mom? Dad?" She looks at her parents who are busy consoling Christy. Her mom looks lovingly at Christy and says, "We will support you every way we can." "And so will we." says Grandpa Watson and Grandma just smiles her ever-knowing smile.

"Bueno, eso es porque todos ustedes están locos." My mom says venomously, hoping no one hears.

Well, that's because all of you are crazy.

"Pot, kettle, black. Go to hell, with all due respect, Mrs. Mason." Misty says vehemently, and then turns to me. "What about you? Whose side are you on?" She says with defeat in her eyes.

"I pay for college, Chris. What is it, then? Your stupid sister who got knocked up by some guy or your precious future?" My mom says like a villain in a movie. 

College. Damn. I forgot about that.

I stand there without replying for ages, it seems. Misty gives me a disappointed look. So does her family. Then, her patience snaps.

"Well, let me make the choice easier." Misty snarled venomously, but I could see the moisture in her eyes. "Go with your mother to hell, Chris. We don't need you either."

"Misty...baby, let me explain, please?" I say, my throat choking up.

"You lost the right to call me 'baby' a year ago. I thought I made myself clear. WE.DON'T.NEED.YOU." she spits out vehemently.

And that hurts more than a thousand needles straight to my heart.