Page 41 of Santa Loves Curvy Girls

“Oh,” Mom said, taking a sip of her root beer. “What happened?”

I slowly spun my own cup on the counter, watching condensation rings reflect the fluorescent lights. “I can’t really say, Mom. I wish I could, but…”

Mom’s brow furrowed. “Why not?”

“I just… I made a promise I can’t break, and because of that, I can’t really pursue things with Belle.”

Mom took another sip of her root beer. She looked at me like she was worried I’d gotten myself into trouble of some kind.

“I promise it’s nothing bad,” I said. “In fact, it’s the opposite. It’s something really good. A really good reason that’s keeping me from having a relationship with her ever again.”

Mom seemed to relax a little after that even though she still looked doubtful, like she wanted to ask me a million more questions, but thankfully she didn’t because Scrooge came by with our food, setting our plates in front of us, along with our favorite dipping sauces.

After Mom thanked him and he walked away, she said to me, “Well, I don’t know what all is going on, Nick, but I do know that you’re a good person and I trust you.”

Her words had a lump forming in my throat. It was hard to feel like a good person with Belle’s hurt expression on replay in my mind. “Thanks, Mom,” I managed.

“But I can also tell this is really upsetting you,” she continued. “I won’t ask too many questions, but I will tell you this. We lost your dad over ten years ago now.” Her voice broke a little as she said it and tears welled up in her eyes, but she went on. “Even with how hard it was to lose him, not one day goes by that I’m not thankful for all the time we had together. You should never let your feelings for someone go unspoken. Time is a precious thing.”

My chest felt tight as she talked about Dad. His absence was extra hard this time of year because he loved the Christmas season. I squeezed her hand. “I know, Mom, but I–”

“I know what you’re about to say,” she said. “That you don’t have a choice. That may be so, but I also know that there’s always a way, especially when it comes to the special people in our lives.” She squeezed my hand back. “There’s always a way, Nick. You just have to find one.”

26

BELLE

Mom sat down next to me on the couch, a fresh cup of hot coffee in hand. “You’re pretty quiet lately,” she said. “And you haven’t hung out with your friends like you usually do.”

I exhaled and shrugged my shoulders, hardly looking up from some cookie decoration ideas I was doodling in my journal. If I did, she might see how upset I really was. “They’ve all been busy. We all have, I guess,” I added. “I’ll probably see them for New Year’s.”

“Got big plans?” Mom asked, settling into the couch, Yeti sitting between us.

I bit my lip before answering, “Not really.” I’d been thinking of going to Haley’s big New Year’s Eve party–everyone in school went each year. But I didn’t know if I could handle going and seeing everyone kiss their crush at midnight.

We were quiet for a minute before she finally said, “You seem different, honey. Like you’re upset about something.”

There was a beat of silence, just the TV playing quietly in the background, but neither of us were paying attention to it.

“You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you,” she went on.

I looked at her, thinking it might feel good to talk to someone about this. “There was a boy.”

“Was?” she asked, gaze completely focused on me. “There isn’t anymore?”

I shook my head. “It got complicated really fast.”

She looked at me kind of funny, and I knew she had probably already pieced most of it together. I mean, she had seen us talk and hang out a lot at Cider Center. “This wouldn’t be a certain someone who happened to wear a red suit, would it?”

I didn’t have to respond for her to know the answer. I set my journal down, giving up on the designs.

She nodded knowingly and patted my knee. “I see.”

“He made a promise he can’t break,” I told her.

“About who he really is,” Mom finished for me.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I swallowed to keep them at bay. “Yeah.” I missed him, and it had only been two days. What if I never saw him again? Or worse, saw him without knowing who he really was? Would I spend the rest of my life wondering if each blue-eyed person was him?

---