Free Living with Jackie Chan by Jo Knowles

Well, Larry asked me to celebrate with him.
    Mom: But —
    Me: It’ll be better this way, I think.
    Mom: But —
    Me: I’ll be fine. I promise. Larry doesn’t have anyone to celebrate with. I should really stay so he doesn’t have to be alone. Besides, aren’t you working? You always work on Christmas.
    Mom: Well, I just thought —
    Me: Don’t be mad, OK? I just can’t come home. Not yet.
    Mom:
    Me: I’m really sorry, Mom. I just can’t.
    Mom: No, it’s OK, honey. I understand.
    Me: OK, well, I gotta go now.
    Mom: Bye, honey. I miss you.
    Me: Me, too, Mom.
    I know I’m an asshole for making her and my dad spend Christmas alone together. But it’s not like my presence is going to make it any better. I know when they look at me they probably think about how, if it weren’t for me coming into their lives, everything would have been different for them. They wouldn’t have had to get married, for one thing. I wonder if they think about that, too. I wonder if they think about how different their lives would be if my mom had had an abortion instead. Or given me up for adoption. Would they have simply moved on? Or would they have been haunted by not knowing where I was? Or whatever became of me?
    Sometimes at night, when the cries above wake me up, I can still imagine his face. And I wonder. What would have happened if he hadn’t been “given up”?
    When I wake up and hear that phrase in my mind, over and over, I give Jackie Chan a good punch in the face. But Larry doesn’t come rushing into the room anymore.
    He knows what’s going on. It’s part of my freakin’ journey. I just wish I knew where I was going.

 
    The first day of winter break, someone knocks on our door at around ten in the morning. “Well, look who’s here!” Larry says loudly. I’m still in bed, but my door is open.
“Stelll-ahhhhh!”
Larry howls.
    I pull on a T-shirt and a pair of sweats as fast as I can. I’m sure I have morning death-breath.
    “Come on in, gorgeous.”
    They walk into the living room. I wave from my door and head straight to the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I come back out, Larry is showing Stella the box of Christmas ornaments from his childhood. There aren’t too many, because he had to divide them with my dad.
    “Hey, Sam,” she says. I really wish she wouldn’t call me that.
    “Hey,” I say.
    “What brings you here on this fine winter morning?” Larry asks in his classic cornball way.
    “I’m going to the mall to do some Christmas shopping, and I thought Josh might like to come along.”
    “Aw, that’s so sweet,” Larry says. When she looks away, he raises his eyebrows at me suggestively, then disappears into the kitchen.
    “Coffee? Tea? Cocoa?” he calls out.
    “Cocoa, please!” Stella says.
    She looks at me kind of shyly. “So? You up for it?”
    “Why me?” I ask. “Aren’t you worried we might be seen together?”
    She blushes. “Britt and his friends are all at a basketball tournament today.”
    Figures. I force myself not to roll my eyes. But seriously. Why can’t she see how truly pathetic this situation is? Right. Probably the same reason I’m not going to say no.
    “Let me take a quick shower first,” I say.
    “Great!”
    I’m afraid she’s about to hug me or something and smell my stench, so I step back fast and head to the bathroom.
    When I come back out, she’s finishing her cocoa with Larry. They both look at me like they’ve been talking about me.
    “What?” I ask.
    Stella smirks at Larry. “Oh, nothing.”
    Larry grins.
    “I know what you’re getting for Christmas,” Stella half sings.
    Larry moves his shoulders to the beat in a little happy dance.
    How do I even respond to this?
    Stella gets up. “Ready to go?”
    “You kids have fun!” Larry says. “Be good!”
    “What’s with you?” I ask him. Larry’s always in a good mood, but today he looks like he’s going to explode with joy.
    “I’m just
happy,
” he says. “Christmas is