Chapter Text
Lynnhaven Mall – Center Court
Clay’s gaze roamed around him, not alert for threats, no his eyes were wide with wonder. Much like Jameelah’s and RJ’s as they took in all the glittery and colorful Christmas decorations while waiting to visit with Santa Claus. He would never reveal to anyone that as a kid, his Christmases were devoid of magic. He supposed before his father sent him to live with his grandparents, he must’ve experienced something like this, but he couldn’t recall.
His childhood memories didn’t match the typical American kid. They couldn’t since he primarily grew up in a missionary camp in Liberia. Though his grandma and grandpa loved him, they put all their resources into practical matters such as food, shelter, and clean water. So nothing was left for frivolities such as Christmas decorations. So this excess overwhelmed and truthfully delighted him.
A tug on his hand brought his eyes down to RJ, and he grinned. “Excited to sit on Santa’s lap?”
RJ nodded with bright, eager brown eyes. “I’m gonna ask for a pirate ship.”
Clay chuckled. Ever since he showed up at Ray’s place to take Jameelah trick or treating wearing a pirate costume, RJ developed a fascination with pirates. “Okay.”
“Uncle Clay?”
Turning to Jameelah, Clay noted the bit of hesitation in her voice. “What?”
Chewing her bottom lip, Jameelah gazed up at her hero. He saved her from being hit by a car and got hurt doing so. “What was Christmas like when you were a kid?”
“Why do you ask?” Clay regretted his response when her eyes dropped to her shoes.
Her voice soft, knowing it was bad manners to pry, Jameelah said, “Well, ‘cause you never went trick or treating, and I wondered if you had Christmas.”
Clay crouched to come to eye level with Ray’s daughter. “A bit different than this.”
“How?” RJ chimed in.
Searching for a way to tell the truth without revealing the starkness of his childhood, Clay smiled. “Well, one Christmas, I got to string a popcorn garland.” He chuckled. “It wasn’t very long, ‘cause I keep eating the popcorn.”
“I like popcorn too,” RJ declared.
“Did you have a tree?” Jameelah pursed her lips, picking up what her uncle didn’t share.
“And lots of presents?” RJ added.
Clay blinked and was saved from answering as the elf waved them forward. “Your turn.” He stood and released RJ’s hand as the kids scampered over to the jolly fat man. He indicated to the photo assistant which package Naima wanted. As the children posed, and then whispered their heart’s desires to Santa, Clay grinned. Experiencing the wonder of the season through his brother’s children warmed his heart.
When they finished, and Clay received the packet of photos, he checked his watch and noted he needed to keep them busy for at least another hour. “How about we grab some hot chocolate and cookies?” RJ’s squeal of delight gave Clay his answer, and he gave the pictures to Jameelah to hold as he gripped both their hands and headed for the food court.
Fifteen minutes later, sitting at a small table, Clay chuckled again at the whipped cream and cookie crumbs surrounding RJ’s mouth. He thought Jameelah would’ve forgotten her question by now, but as she finished her snickerdoodle, she asked, “So, did you have a Christmas tree?”
“Yes.” Clay’s answer was the truth, but not the whole truth. He taped six pieces of paper together and drew a tree every year, and his grandmother allowed him to hang it on the wall in his room.
“And presents?” RJ spilled his cocoa as he nearly knocked over his cup.
Clay caught the cup before it ended up in his lap. Ray wouldn’t be happy with him if he ended up injured in front of his kids again … though the burns would’ve been slight since the cocoa cooled a bit. Setting the drink in front of RJ, Clay answered. “I received presents too.”
“Like pirate ships?” RJ’s eyes sparkled.
“No. But they were nice gifts.” Clay’s mind conjured up his usual Christmas gifts, but he wouldn’t share them with RJ. Grandma always made him a new set of clothes and treated him with popcorn. Grandpa gifted him his time, letting him go with him to deliver the food baskets to those in desperate need. His father, well, Clay never expected anything from Ash and was never disappointed when nothing arrived.
Ray’s Home
With Christmas carols playing in the background, Jameelah giggled as her dad accidentally dumped a whole heap of red sprinkles on the cookie he was decorating. “Sorry, Dad, I forgot RJ loosened the top.”
Grinning, Ray shrugged. “More the merrier, I say.” He loved spending time with his family, just the four of them enjoying the season and doing something simple and innocent like baking cookies. This was a far cry from what he saw in his daily life with his brothers.
Though Ray cared about all five brothers, and this might be considered a bit selfish, but taking a break from Bravo to be with only his wife and children was a rare gift, and Ray cherished every moment. Especially since Blackburn managed to get the entire team a full five days off from the twenty-third to the twenty-seventh.
Niama sauntered in, with a now cleaned up RJ … his helping to mix the batter for the next batch went disastrously wrong, and more batter ended up on her son and the floor than in the bowl. Spying Ray’s attempt at decorating the tree cookie, she chuckled. “Well, that is certainly more.”
Having bided her time all afternoon, ever since Clay took them to the mall, Jameelah finally got up the nerve to ask, “Mom, Dad, can Clay come over on Christmas Day?”
“Honey, I’m sure he has plans,” Naima said as she started a new batch.
Jameelah ignored her mom’s response and pinned her father with her puppy dog eyes, which usually got her what she wanted. “Daddy, can he please come? You say more the merrier, right?”
A softy at heart, when it came to his daughter, Ray caved. “I’ll call and ask him, but don’t be surprised if he can’t.” Jameelah graced him with a brilliant smile, and including Clay didn’t seem such a big deal if it made his girl beam like sunshine.
Clay’s Apartment
With the trip to the mall still swirling in his head, Clay sat on his couch in his cheerless apartment. He never bothered with decorations, didn’t have them growing up, so why bother now. Just something to put up and take down. And killing a living tree just so it could stand in the corner of his room for a few days didn’t seem right either. He supposed he could buy a fake one … but again, why bother when everywhere he went in town had decorations, he could enjoy.
The last word stopped Clay’s thoughts dead in their tracks. Enjoy … enjoyment … to feel joy. His life didn’t have much joy lately … or ever really. He got the shaft early on, and no one ever stayed in his life for long. His grandparents were the longest … but they like so many died or ditched him.
His self-absorbed dad left him early on. Mom fought her demons but ultimately died from them after shipping him off. Grandpa and Grandma lost their lives in civil conflict. Both Brian and Adam died doing what they loved. Stella dumped him … twice. He had been a fool to give it a second shot with her. She still couldn’t handle his job.
The only family he had now was his team … and they were all busy. They had five days off with a guarantee they wouldn’t be spun up unless the world was coming to an end, so everyone made plans.
Ray made it clear he intended to spend every waking moment with Naima, Jameelah, and RJ and wouldn’t give them one thought. Jason decided to spend Christmas at his mother’s home in Philadelphia with his kids. Sonny booked a flight to Texas and didn’t bother to ask if he wanted to go with him. But that didn’t surprise Clay, Sonny had been a bit distant ever since the Texan started dating the mystery woman. Trent took the opportunity to fly home too, wanting to introduce Dawn to his parents, and talked about looking up old pals he hadn’t seen in years. And to round things out, Brock drove to Florida with Cerb to meet his girlfriend's family.
Clay should’ve made plans like all the rest. Perhaps skiing in Canada or laying on a beach somewhere in the Carribean. But when Ray asked if he would watch his kids on the morning of the twenty-fourth so he and Naima could drive all the way to Norfolk to get the last mega pirate ship … RJ’s heart's desire, Clay couldn’t say no. So now, he was home all alone after dropping the kid’s off three hours ago.
Pushing himself up, figuring he needed to stop his pity party before it snowballed, Clay strode to his kitchen to find something to eat. He opened the fridge and recalled he never made it to the store after the last spin up. He stared at a single bottle of beer, two energy drinks, a bag of decaying salad, and a small chunk of cheese that had dried out on the edges. Opening the freezer yielded only his five bags of frozen corn he used as ice packs, a can of orange juice concentrate he couldn’t remember buying, and a piece of freezer-burned pork chop he should’ve thrown out a month ago.
Going to his cabinets, he found some spices, an old bag of ramen noodles, and a can of cream of celery soup. What the hell? When did I buy celery soup? Who eats celery soup anyway? Oh right, Stella made some casserole with it ages ago. He grabbed the chicken ramen, resigned to having a Christmas Eve dinner reminiscent of the last one he spent with his mom. She was too drugged out to give a damn about fixing him dinner.
He was too young to cook, even boil water back then, so Clay prepared the ramen as he had when he was five. He smashed the packaging on the counter, breaking the noodles into little pieces, poured it into a bowl, and sprinkled the flavoring over the top. After grabbing a spoon, he returned to the couch and plopped down.
Turning on the TV, he scrolled through channels, not finding anything he wanted to watch until he landed on the tail end of the old movie Home Alone. He munched on the dry noodles and thought it would’ve been nice to be the kid in the story because he was ingenious in foiling the robbery, and his family realized they forgot him, and the parents did everything in their power to get back to him as soon as possible.
When the movie ended, he switched off the TV and set his half-eaten bowl of ramen on the table. Restless, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He thought about going to the gym on base, but other teams might see him and word might get back to his teammates that Clay didn’t have anywhere else to be on Christmas Eve … and that would suck. He didn’t want them feeling sorry for him. Nope, the gym was out.
Clay stood and wandered back and forth in his small place until his eyes lit on the box of crayons on his desk. RJ must’ve left them when he was packing up his backpack before Clay took them home. Clay grinned as he picked up the crayons and searched for a blank sheet of paper. He settled for the backside of the packing slip from the boots he bought himself for Christmas.
He sat on his stool at the kitchen island, selected the green crayon, and began to draw a tree. Halfway done, and recalling the simple pleasures he experienced with his grandparents … understanding material things didn’t mean squat … only people did, he was jarred from his latest recollection when his phone buzzed.
Surprised, and then worried something might’ve happened when he spied Ray’s name, Clay answered, “Hey, Ray. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, why would you ask that?”
“Well, you’re spending time with your family. And I didn’t expect you to call.” Clay continued coloring a red ball on his tree after he put Ray on speaker.
“Oh. Sorry for interrupting whatever you’re doing, brother.”
“Not interrupting. What you need?” Clay switched to a yellow crayon and drew a star on the top of his tree.
“Well, I know I imposed on your time already by babysitting my kids. And well, I wouldn’t want you to change your plans, but Jameelah asked if you would come over tomorrow. It doesn’t have to be for long … or not at all, if you would rather not. I didn’t make any promises to her other than I would call you.”
Clay struggled to discern whether Ray actually wanted him to come over, or was only placating his daughter by calling. “I guess I could stop by for a few minutes … for Jameelah. What time would be good?”
“Anytime that works for you. We’re not going anywhere.”
Clay racked his brain to remember if Ray said anything about when they ate Christmas dinner, not wanting to ruin their family time. When nothing came to mind, he selected a time, which would be after brunch and before lunch or an early dinner. “How about elevenish?”
“Sounds good. Jameelah will be happy. Thanks.”
“No problem. See you tomorrow.” Clay hung up and smiled, pleased he would make Jameelah happy. And he only planned to stay about half-hour, so Ray could have his much-anticipated family time.
Clay continued to decorate his tree, and when he finished, he went into his bedroom and taped it on the wall. It was then he realized he didn’t want to go empty-handed to Ray’s, and he hoped the corner store might still be open. He would grab a bottle of wine for the adults and popcorn for the kids.