Page 98 of Christmas Criminal

I rub my chest where heartburn is threatening to take me down.How dare he, how dare he, how dare he.

A minute later, another text comes in, and Noelle summarizes it for the group, starting with a sigh and a, "This poor girl." She shakes her head. "She says Dad's been living at the Goldmans' old place. That he's been flaking out on them for a while now and she had a feeling he was lying about seeing his family this Christmas. That's why she looked me up and found my phone number. Because she wanted proof that he's the jackass she thinks he is."

Noelle taps her fingers along the side of her phone, glancing up at her mom. "Can I invite them here?"

Helen's eyes go wide. "You want to invite themhere?"

Noelle shrugs. "They are technicallyfamily, right? And it sounds like they're having a rough day."

Helen swallows and nods. "Of course. The more, the merrier."

21

NOELLE

Wednesday, December 25th

I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing. Is it odd to invite your dad's second family for Christmas? Absolutely. Does it feel like the right thing to do right now? Kind of.

My mom is apprehensive, and I hate that I'm doing this to her on the holiday, but we've been running in circles for years, trying to stop Christina from getting upset. Trying to get him to show up when he says he will.

And Naomi... as much as I don't want to think we share some of the same genes, she reminds me of me. A little brash, with a healthy dose of skepticism. She looks like a little version of me, and I have a very strong feeling in my gut that I will regret not doing what I can to make things better.

How would my life be different if someone had been there for me when I was in high school? She might not have eczema or get bullied in the same way I did, but she's a human going through the same difficult realization that I did, at the same time I did: that unfortunately just because he'sDaddoesn't mean he was ever qualified for the job.

They arrive half an hour later, with wide eyes and hesitant smiles. Naomi leads the charge, thanking my mom directly for having us and immediately clearing the air of any awkwardness by stating their intention–to have a nice Christmas with the family theychoose.

I can't help but grin at her a little bit. My mom smiles at this too, shooting me a quick look like she notices the resemblance like I do. When she offers to host us next year, my mom thanks her for the invite and tells her the moms will have to discuss this and get back to her.

Cassidy beelines for Christina, and I can't help but notice the resemblance there, too. She asks how Christina's leg is healing and lets her know they've started thoroughly salting the driveway whenever the forecast calls for snow or ice.

Behind her, Harriet the Harlot walks in–who is definitely not a harlot, but that's the name Christina and I came up with when we were young and angry, and it rolled off the tongue so easily that itstuck. She nods to my mom, and like Naomi, clearing the way of any awkwardness, my mom wraps her in a big hug, thanking her for coming and gesturing to the array of food that'sstilloverkill, even with eight people now in this tiny house.

Nick wraps an arm around my shoulders, pressing a kiss to my cheek and speaking softly against my skin. "I think somebody is feeling the Christmas spirit."

And instead of fighting him on this, I turn to him, brushing my lips across his jaw. "I'd rather feel your Christmas spirit."

He groans. "And I'd love nothing more than to give it to you." He leaves another kiss on my head, holding me close for a second longer than necessary. It feels needy, like maybe he's searching for a little bit of comfort this Christmas too.

I get the feeling that my dad flaking out upset him. He didn't say anything, but I could see his jaw clenching, the subtle shake of his head as the story unfolded through Naomi's texts. He sayshe's self-conscious about not showing enough emotion, but I can't help but wonder if whoever told him that was just trying to make him feel bad. It's written so clearly across his face and in his body language.

And I can't blame him for being upset by my dad. After what he went through growing up, it probably feels like a slight for someone to have everything he always wanted and not appreciate it in the same way he would.

I mean, he looked like a little kid this morning when the presents were being handed out. Not like he was excited to necessarilygetthings, but he watched the whole tradition unfold with rapt attention, one hand always on me but his focus on what my mom and my sister were doing. And hegrinnedwhen he saw Hank. Something tells me this is the first time Santa's made a cameo at his Christmas.

I smile at him and he looks right back at me, a softness in his eyes that melts me from the inside out.

"Hi, Noelle." I hear the voice behind me and turn to see Naomi waving at me, a small smile on her face that melds into an awkward shrug as she looks away.

"Hi," I say, realizing I invited these girls over and we're just kind of standing around, staring at each other.

So I take a deep breath and a step forward, and wrap my arms around a teenager I only barely know.

When she hugs me back, there's a part of me that warms to her. Like her hug is an indication I've been accepted. A moment later, I reach out and tug her sister into it too. "Thanks for coming," I tell them, giving them one last tight squeeze before letting go.

"If it's okay with you, Cassidy wanted to call... Dad," Naomi says hesitantly, as if she’s unsure whether that’s what she should call him.

I raise my eyebrows. "Sure, whatever you need to do."

---