Claimed for Christmas

Chapter Twelve

I’m literally dragged down the aisle by my arm, until we are lost within the stacks where Maxine finally lets me go and steps back, waiting expectantly.

I look up and down the row of shelving in front of me, immediately out of my depth, what the f***k does a kid want for Christmas? Most of the gifts I buy for people need a shot glass to go with it, and I’m pretty sure Darcie will not approve of me buying her son some sort of raspberry flavoured spirit as a gift.

I take another cursory look before I grab an oversized stuffed polar bear from nearby, that’ll do for the first one, every kid loves a stuffed toy, right?

I turn around, grinning with pride to find Maxine staring at me, one eyebrow raised.

‘Who is that for?’ she asks quietly.

I look down at the bear again, my grin slowly sliding from my lips.

‘Uh, EJ?’ I reply questioningly.

Maxine sighs heavily, crossing her arms over her chest as she shakes her head slowly.

‘Elijah honey, EJ is nearly six,’ she tells me, in that tone teachers use when a child isn’t getting the simple math equation on the board.

‘Yeah?’ I reply uncertainly.

The store owner rolls her eyes as she pulls the bear from my arms and places it back on the shelf, ‘so, he’s a little bit past the teddy bear stage,’ she replies.

Oh.

‘So, what should I get then?’ I ask, trailing after her as she turns away from the bears and walks further down the aisle, tapping her finger to her chin. Her critical gaze sweeps over her stocked shelves, until she stops beside a medium sized train set that, according to the box, contains thirty pieces of blue plastic train track that can be connected in a variety of configurations and two magnetic trains with carriages.

She grabs one of the boxes, turning back to me and shoving it into my chest as I grab it awkwardly.

‘EJ loves trains,’ she beams at me, ‘he’s been to the tree lot at least a dozen times this year just so he can ride on the kids' train ride they’ve put in there. I happen to also know that neither Elliott nor your mother has bought him one’ she adds, winking as I laugh; of course she knows what my niblings have got for Christmas, everyone in town buys their kids gifts from here.

‘OK, so EJ gets the trains,’ I concede, ‘now what about the girls?’

Maxine’s smile widens instantly as she claps her hands together, ‘well, Flora has just turned seven, and I happen to know that she was eyeing up a particular doll when she came in last week . . .’ The shop owner eyes me appraisingly, ‘it’s a little pricy, Elijah, that’s why Santa isn’t managing to get it to her this year.’

‘Show me the doll,’ I sigh, jerking my chin for the older woman to lead the way, ‘I normally give each of the kids a hundred bucks for Christmas anyway,’ I add under my breath.

Maxine doesn’t hear me, thankfully, as I’m pretty sure that the queen of Christmas gifts would be horrified that I basically throw cash at the holiday season and call it a day.

We head through the stacks as the wares turn to various shades of pink; it’s everywhere! If it’s a toy available to buy, in this section, it’s pink. We pass through the stereotypical idea of femininity to the other side, where I’m confronted with floor to ceiling dolls. There are big ones, small ones, ones that come with various plastic accessories. There are fabric ones and plastic ones, there is even one that is half and half, the body fabric, the limbs and head are plastic, what the f***k?

My gaze scans over the ridiculous choice options, and I’m just trying to figure out why any child would want a doll that can pee in a diaper when Maxine thrusts a purple box with gold swirls under my nose.

‘This is the one,’ she tells me as I reluctantly take the large box from her, staring down into the face of a roughly just over a foot tall doll with curly brown hair down to her shoulders. She’s wearing a red velvet dress with a faux fur white lace collar and edging to the sleeves and coat hem. There is a matching hat on her head which is finished off with felt holly leaves and berries. The box states that her eyes close when she lies down, and she is poseable; plus she comes with six handmade accessories.

‘How much?’ I ask, looking up at Maxine, who twists her fingers together reluctantly.

‘It’s One hundred and seventy five dollars,’ she replies quietly.

I stare at her in shock, ‘One hundred and seventy five bucks? For a doll?’ I repeat.

Maxine nods, ‘it’s a limited edition design’ she rushes out, ‘only five thousand are made in each outfit. This is the one that Flora kept picking up, she didn’t even look at the others . . . you should have seen her face Elijah, she was enamoured with this one . . . so delicate with the box, she was sitting here for the whole time your mother was shopping, didn’t move from this spot right here’ she adds, pointing to the floor between us.

I groan to myself before I nod reluctantly, ‘fine, Flora gets the stupidly overpriced doll,’ I mutter.

Maxine beams widely, bouncing on her toes, ‘oh, you are the best uncle, Elijah, Flora is going to be so excited on Christmas morning! You make sure you get your mother to send me the photo when she opens it, I like to see the kids when they get what they really want.’

‘Will do,’ I grouch, ‘now what about Cherie, and please God don’t make it another two hundred dollar f.ucking doll,’ I add under my breath.

Maxine hurries away from me quickly, ‘Oh, I know exactly what Cherie would like, come with me,’ she calls over her shoulder as I struggle with the two large boxes in my arms. Why do they not have handles? When did handles stop being a thing on boxes? Box suppliers! Seriously! Bring back handles on toys!

We move through the store, weaving through the crowded walkways of people getting last minute gifts until we step into the sporting section. Maxine makes a beeline to the end, picking up a glove and holding it up in triumph as I try to understand what the hell she is showing me.

‘A softball catchers’ mitt’ she beams proudly as though I should somehow know what the hell it is. ‘As you know, Cherie has been on our local team for two years now, and she’s really good! One of our star players in fact, she takes after your brother with the sports gene I think. Well, her glove is starting to show really show signs of wear, so I just know she’d love a new one.’

I eye the mitt suspiciously, my niece plays softball? I didn’t know that . . . but then again, I didn’t know Flora coveted a nearly two hundred dollar doll or that EJ had a die hard obsession with trains so . . .

‘How much is it?’ I ask.

Maxine smiles, ‘well they start at around One hundred and thirty dollars and can go as high as four hundred plus for a top of the range one . . ‘

I gape at her, ‘four hundred dollars?’ I squeak, ‘for a kid’s softball glove?! Are you serious? What’s it made of? Camel ass skin that has been blessed by the three wise men?’

Maxine laughs, ‘if you think that’s crazy, you should see the cost of the bats’ she teases, ‘you can pay four hundred and fifty dollars for a good quality one.’

‘Holy s.hit!’ I mutter, shaking my head in amazement.

‘Elijah!’ Maxine snaps suddenly, glaring at me as I jump, scrambling to keep hold of the boxes that start to slip from my arms. ‘This is a family store, there are children here, young children! You watch your language young man!’

‘Sorry’ I mutter quickly, dropping my gaze as my cheeks heat.

The store owner sniffs, ‘I forgive you, but please do not do it again, this is a time of love and togetherness, not for teaching young minds words that are unnecessary in a conversation.’

‘So, about the glove’ I remind her, diverting her attention at top speed, because despite being a grown ass man, it seems I'm still a ten year old kid when faced with the wrath of one of the town elders, ‘which one should I get?’