“Merry Christmas, lovebirds,” Seltzer said.
“Merry Christmas, Seltzer. Hey, I know that’s not your real name but what is?” Ely asked him. I, of course knew, was privy to how he obtained the nickname he chose to go by.
“Ugh,” Selzter groaned. “It’s a horrible family name.”
“I’m all ears,” Ely said, not backing down.
“Lynden Alan Ackerman the third, at your service,” Seltzer said, bowing for affect.
“Wow, that’s a mouthful,” Ely replied.
“That’s what he said!” Seltzer and I yelled at the same time. “Jinx! Double jinx!” We punched each other’s shoulders, wincing.
“What is going on?” Ely asked.
“You never played jinx as a kid?” I asked him.
“Um, nope,” Ely admitted. I was stunned. “Okay then, how did you get the nickname Seltzer?”
“I discovered Alka-Seltzer by accident one day. Stuff tasted like shit but I looked like a rabid dog when it oozed out of my mouth. My younger sister, Tracey, used to bug the shit out of me all the time. Whenever Rhone was around, she wouldn’t leave us alone. So I took to chewing up Alka-Seltzer, getting down on all fours and chasing her around the house, barking like a rabid dog. She’d scream and lock herself in her room, but she’d quit bothering us.”
“Oh my God, I don’t know whether to laugh or— I don’t know what. It’s funny in a sick, twisted way. You’d honestly rather be called Seltzer than Lynden?” Ely asked him.
“Wouldn’t you?” Seltzer replied.
“You win,” Ely said, placing the tray of croissants in the oven. “These will be ready in a few minutes. Java nuts, get your caffeine doctored up, then meet me in the living room for breakfast and presents.”
This domesticated bliss we’d slipped into, the three of us sitting in the living room, steaming cups of coffee and a tray of ooey, gooey, goodness on the coffee table in front of us was the stuff dreams were made of. This was Christmas in my book.
“Ely, do you want to play Santa?” I asked. He was already wearing the hat and he’d probably have a blast handing out the presents. When he shook his head like his neck was spring loaded, I knew I’d asked the right question. Not to mention the fact he was bouncing around like he’d consumed an ungodly amount of sugar already.
By the time he finished, Seltzer and I had downed half the tray of croissants. “Wow,” Ely said, peering down at it. “Glad I made a dozen.” We each snagged another, leaving four for him. He shook his head, laughing. “Okay children, let’s open presents.”
Seltzer got me a new stool for behind my kit. The black leather cushion was embroidered with our band logo on it. “Man, this is seriously badass.” My current one was pleather that had seen better days. “Thank you.”
He was a tough one to buy for, but Ely and I had shopped together for Seltzer and managed to get him a new pair of steel toed boots with chrome buckles and a couple similar shirts with buckles that he seemed to like. For Ely, Seltzer stuck with the Ratatouille theme, getting him an apron sporting the infamous chef and the Pop Funko figurine. Ely’s face lit up with every present he opened, I had a feeling he’d never received many before.
Ely got me a couple DVDs I’d mentioned wanting and a framed picture he took of us at the beginning of the one and only date we ever had. For now, we were both good with that. At home group gatherings, nights cuddled up at home — those were more our things. Going out wasn’t high on either of our to do lists right now.
Seltzer went upstairs to get ready to head over to his parents’ house. Ely and I were cleaning up when we both announced at the same time, “I have one more present for you.”
I was shaking like a leaf, too late to pull back now and I didn’t want to anyway. The time was right, and this is what I wanted to give to Rhone. What I wanted us to share, together.
“You go first,” I told him. “Wait, meet me upstairs and give it to me there.” Without a second thought, I bolted from the kitchen and up the stairs, shutting myself in Rhone’s bathroom. Retrieving the bag I’d hidden under the vanity cabinet, I stared at the contents. You can do this Ely. Not long after, I heard Rhone moving around in the bedroom. Nerves were getting the best of me and I started to hyperventilate. Taking a seat on the side of the tub, I dove into the breathing exercises I used to calm myself.
A few minutes later, Rhone knocked on the door. “Ely, are you okay?”
“Oh yeah, sorry. Be right out.” Scrambling, somehow managing to get changed without tripping and falling in the process, I exited the bathroom. Rhone was sitting on the bed, guitar in hand. “I didn’t know you could play?”
“What are you wearing?” he asked me. I gazed down at the short, red, satin bathrobe afraid I looked ridiculous to him. He couldn’t see what was underneath, so I wasn’t sure if he hated the bathrobe or what. If so, you’re in deep doo-doo when he sees what else there was.
“Um, you first.”
“Back to your question. No, I don’t play but I um,” Rhone paused. “I wrote you a song and I wanted to be able to play it for you. This is the reason why band practice has run late over the past two weeks,” Rhone shyly admitted.
“You wrote me a song?”
“Well, don’t get too excited yet. There’s a reason I’m not the singer or even the backup so please be gentle.”
When he strummed the first chord, my breath caught. He wrote me a song. My insides were fluttering for a different reason now.
Ely’s Song
When I wake
Your face is the first thing
I want to see
Your life, your love
Fill me with the warmth I need
Look before you leap
Don’t jump into the deep
May work for some
But not for me
Chorus:
Your love fills me
With the air I breathe
Your love
Is the elixir I need
Your love
Is everything to me
When you walk into a room
Every head turns your way
But your eyes only see me
Somehow, never stray
What did I do to deserve you?
To be the one you want
No other will have my heart
You hold the only key
Chorus:
Your love fills me
With the air I breathe
Your love
Is the elixir I need
Your love
Is everything to me
Ely, I know without a doubt
You’re the one for me
Marry me, marry me, Ely
Please say you’ll marry me?
I stared blankly at him. That was the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard and it was for me. But wait?
“Um, could you sing the end again?” I asked. There’s no way he said what I think he did.
Instead of singing, Rhone took my hands in his. “Ely, I know this is soon. But I know what I want and what I want is you. My mom says I’m just like her. She knew my dad was the one she’d marry the first time she met him and she hadn’t even hit puberty. I want to go to sleep with you. Wake up with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Ely, will you marry me?”