Page 53 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

A laugh slips through my lips. I can’t help it.

Marlene turns her head; the band is still singing, and I’d wager she’s wondering if I’m finding their choice of Christmas tunes funny. I don’t, just festive, though it doesn’t exactly sound like something Elliot’s mother would normally love.

I swallow. “Sorry—just a funny meme. From Meg. My sister. Who lives in Hawaii.”

She gives me a small smile and faces forward.

Elliot: Liar.

Me: I didn’t know what else to say!

Elliot: Don’t mind her. She likes you. She told me so. But Jess never really accepted my family, so Mom’s a little on edge when it comes to me and women.

Okay… this is interesting.

Me: She seemed so happy at the family picture.

Elliot: She is happy. She wants me moving on. And she was afraid I hadn’t. She and my sisters are afraid I’m still hung up on Jess.

Me: Are you?

Elliot: No.

Elliot: I’m over Jess. I am. I still have hang-ups. I’ve already told you part of that.

Me: More later?

Elliot: It’s not an interesting story. It’s more of a me problem. More than getting over Jess, I’m getting over not being enough for Jess.

Me: Maybe she wasn’t enough for you.

I bite my inner cheek and tell myself to be brave. Elliot and I aren’t really together. So if my words upset him and he’s annoyed with me, what does it matter?

But what if my thoughts were helpful? That might matter very much.

Me: I think you’re making it a problem. Stop worrying about being enough for the wrong person. You’re already enough for the right person.

Me: Whoever she is.

There’s a pause and David belts, “You’ll go down in history!” His daughters join in. But the static in my ears waiting for Elliot to answer feels so much louder.

Elliot: You think it’s that simple?

I let out a breath with his response. I press my lips together and lift my head, peering over to see him watching me. I lift my brows and dip my head, giving my shouldersthe smallest of shrugs. Tiny little gestures—ones that say,yes, I do.

He watches me back, the hint of a smile on his lips, and then he switches back to his phone.

Elliot: Well, thanks. You just saved me years of therapy and thousands of dollars. How many more girls need dogs at C.C.? I’m buying.

A small giggle slips through my lips and I lengthen it out into a hum as if I’m singing along with David in front and Evelyn beside me.

Me: That’s a dangerous offer, Mr. Eaton.

Eliot: Mr.? Why so formal?

Me: If you’re buying dogs for all the kids on our list, this just got serious.

TWENTY-SIX

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