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Adalia had stuck to me like the strongest adhesive on a kitchen tile for the rest of the evening, except, for once this time, I sincerely didn’t know who was sticking closer to who.

If absence does make the heart grow fonder, then she was either very easily missed, or oh no, millions of years had actually come and gone, and my poor ol’ heart starved for affections was the only thing here that had sensed it.

No matter what was what, whichever was which, it really won’t change that it was now an irrefutable truth of life, that I was never gonna run around and… well, you get the idea.

Now, it was simply time for just desserts.

No more walking around stopping every few feet for every little thing for us to participate in. No more flinging boomerangs, no more toppling cans, and when it came to being hounded by judges, every answer was as simple as just simply turning the other way. For the rest of the evening, Adalia and I did absolutely nothing.

And it was probably the most fun I’ve ever had so far.

All this while, literally from dawn till dusk, I was so hung up on wanting to do every little thing together with that urge, that need, mounting more and more, it completely slipped my mind if we were even actually spending time with each other.

There were no more bizarre events to fret over, and Adalia no longer needed to push herself past overdrive just to make it through them. Hell, we weren’t even walking anymore.

.....

We just sat as one of many seated customers utterly drained from the day’s activities taking refuge from the falling snow beneath the canopy of a bakery stall.

There, we quietly munched on chocolate scones, nibbling strawberry crepes, and watching as the dark of night slowly crept onto the gray of sundown, and in turn, the already nippy Christmas day was getting even colder… and it was also almost over.

“How long… more…” Adalia lifted her lips from her scone, whipped cream clinging to her left cheek. “...until we know…?”

“Fifteen more minutes,” I said, glancing over at my phone laid flat beside my plate, Amanda’s glimmering keychain nearly rubbing shoulders with the ring around my finger, the dim, white glow of the screen still funneling through with messages from home.

<<Merry Christmas>> Dad texted first. <<If you’re drunk with friends. Don’t respond. Wait until morning or whenever you wake up. And definitely do not drive. I love you.>>

Sammy had decided to send her regards as well, and yes, it is as touching as it sounds.

<> and when I thought that was about it, a minute later, I was proven wrong. <<ok fine maybe today might be a little bit better if you were here I guess. we have marshmallows>>

And as a follow-up to that, a chime moments after brought up an opaque border of a rather blurred, poorly shot photo of Sammy smiling over a snowy bonfire of s’more out in our field, and to my absolute surprise, there was Mom in frame, vibrant, healthy, and smiling just as happily right beside her… presumably with Dad, in all his elegance, the one that had completely warped the aperture of the picture.

Thought maybe those smiles, especially Sammy’s, was just to ham up for the camera, but here in the photo, hers just looked too genuine to be forced. Add to the fact that I knew very well she wasn’t as easy, lenient as I was when it came to things like forgiveness and grudges… and you got yourself quite the puzzling, wholesome family Christmas photo.

I looked over to the only other person in the photo; Mom had her gaze turned toward the camera, and even beyond it to the point that it felt as if she was really here, not just an image on a display, and really looking right back at me. I half-expected her to blink.

It was her that sent the photo too, alongside a short string of captions.

<<Wish you were.>> Seconds after, much like her daughter, another message shot up to say, <<But since you aren’t, then I’m sincerely hoping that you, and whoever are with making today very, extra special.>>

And then just one blurb for good measure.

<<My money’s on Adalia ;)>>

It’s like she’s got the eyes of a God or something. Oh, wait a minute…

“Today… was fun…” I heard Adalia whisper. “Did you… have fun…?”

I breezed through my replies quickly, sending regards with hearts and kisses, and glanced up at Adalia, her eyes wistfully staring out at the vista of the park wrapped in the cold blanket of night, with the twinkling shimmer of Christmas lights coloring the darkness and bathing in its warmth.

“Is that a serious question?” I asked.

Adalia slowly shifted her gaze back towards me across the table, her ears uncomprehending of a bit of tongue in cheek.

“Did you… have fun… with me…?”

I reached over, helping myself to the smudge of cream in the corner of her lips.

“As much fun as anyone would have being with the person they love,” I said to her. “So in other words, just as much fun as you had.”

With a registering blink, she drooped over and with a light crunch, chomp onto a piece of a crepe.

“I… see…”

“Yeah, if only you could have. Seen it through, I mean,” I muttered, swallowing the rest of my scone with a tinge of regret. Regret tasted sweet. “Would have loved more than anything to have you in the last game. Actually surprised you ain’t more beat up about it.”

That’s what surprises me more about the whole thing. For all her stubbornness and utter refusal to miss this one pivotal moment only to sleep through it anyway, she sure was mystifyingly lenient to simply let bygones be bygones.

I mean, Amanda would have hung this sacrilegious sin over me until the day I die, and even then, I’m not entirely confident the afterlife would even stop her in her tracks.

Adalia looked up at me again, this time with a small flake of crepe sticking on her right, and then she spoke, and I immediately understood the absence of any resentment.

“Did… my sister… have fun…?”

If anything, she was more glad than anything that it even happened at all.

At this point, I can’t really tell no more about who cares about who more, more than the other.

“Fun… is a very, um… broad term to put it,” I said slowly. “I mean, she didn’t try to break my leg out of annoyance this time, so, fun, or no fun… she and I have definitely been through a lot worse.”

“Sister… has always… been with me… always…” Adalia slowly spoke, her lips muffled buried in another crunchy bite. “I do not… want her to feel… alone…”

“Well, then there’s nothing really to worry about. She’s got you, doesn’t she?”

“Only… me…” slowly she chewed, the fleeting taste of regret leaving as she swallowed. “I want her… to have more… than… just me…”

It was clear as day to understand what she meant by that. A sickly, frail sister you’d always have to vigilantly look for, with nary a time spent elsewhere even on yourself.

Amelia was just that, living a life solely only for the purpose and sake of someone else. And in the eyes and mind of that useless, helpless sister, is there really another way for her to see, think, and feel… than as if you just robbed the person you cherished most the single chance to live their life?

Complicated couldn’t even begin to describe the situation between the two of them, and believe you me, I neither have the temperament nor the tack just yet to even attempt to tackle that with a ten-foot pole.

So I just nodded along, let her know that I understood and sympathized, a small comfort… but comfort nonetheless.

After a silent while though, like a sharp breeze suddenly blowing in the opposite direction, Adalia abruptly steered the sails of the conversation, pretty much turning the tables directly onto me.

“The contest… is now finished…” An unfocused blink, and slowly she set a half-eaten aside. “...and you… fulfilled my wish…”

“Almost,” I refuted, glancing down at my phone screen again. “We got ten more minutes until we find out if I’m either the best, or the worst present-giver ever.”

“The… best…” She said simply. “I… know…”

I smiled at that. “If you say so…”

“But you still… have not told me… yours…” her gaze didn’t meet my smile. “I still… have not… fulfilled yours…”

“Ah, that’s right…” I said just as it clicked, completely forgetting, then immediately realizing that her Christmas wish was more than just a wish, it was a trade. “Your present for mine, right?”

“Have you… come up… with one yet…?”

For a moment, not even for half a second, I took a pause, considered, before finally deciding to answer.

“Didn’t really have time to think about it much,” I shrugged. “Don’t really have a good one to ask just yet.”

“Yes… you do…” Adalia blinked again, that split-second she observed, once more seeing more than I wanted to show. “But you are… not… telling me…”

I tried playing dumb. “How’d you figure?”

“You say a lot… when you lie…” She remarked, dropping hard revelations that I wasn’t even aware of myself. “When you lie… you do not tell the answer… directly…”

D-Do I? Did I really have that blatant of a tell? Who else knew?

“W-Wow, okay…” I stammered, both impressed and unnerved. “Uh, so what else do you know about me?”

“A… lot…”

Scary.

“Please… I want you… to tell me…” She softly pleaded, cocking swirly, murky eyes yearning to know, to act, to love, so eager... to not feel useless. “What aren’t you… telling me… directly…?”