Page 30 of Blame It On the Secret Santa

Me: I wasn’t looking.

I looked up as my mother stood in front of me, offering me a refill of eggnog. I smiled and took it from her, wondering why it was sloshing around so much. I took a big sip to bring the level down before it spilled.

Me: But maybe I should.

I was about to text more until Sam sat beside me and yanked my phone away from me.

“Hey! What are you doing? Give that back,” I demanded, holding my hand out.

He grinned as he read through the messages.

“Who isFucker Face?”

“None of your business,” I snapped, lunging for the phone as the liquid in my glass rose dangerously close to spilling over again. I took another drink, wondering why my mother kept refilling it if it was already full. Then I found her sitting on the other couch with my dad, drinking her glass of eggnog. I frowned at the one in my hand and wondered if it had somehow been reproducing on its own and making more when I wasn’t looking. Maybe it was one of those cheeky little elf dolls. Those things gave me the creeps.

“Is this Sean?” he asked, a wicked grin spreading tightly across his face as my phone dinged with a new text alert.

“Give it to me!” I set the glass down the best I could on the table beside me and lunged for my phone.

“What’s going on?” my dad asked, watching us. It wasn’t unusual for us to wrestle when we were younger, but those days were long past us. Or so I thought.

“Nothing,” I grunted. “Sam is being an ass and won’t give back my phone.”

“Language,” my mom scolded, followed by a hiccup.

“I’m twenty-nine, mom. I say much worse than that when you’re not around.”

“Doesn’t surprise me one bit,” she answered, lifting her glass but pausing to take a drink as she hiccupped again.

“It seems our little Cassidy is texting Sean,” Sam said with a mocking tone.

“Oh! How lovely!” my mom exclaimed, attempting to clap her hands until my dad intervened and took her drink away. He never partook when we had eggnog, which was probably best since we all needed an adult to supervise us. “I’m so happy our little Sean Cassidy is back!”

“Your what?” I asked, stopping to try to get her face into focus. Man, that eggnog was strong this time.

“Our little Sean Cassidy. That’s what we used to call you two back in the day when you were dating.”

“I don’t even know who that is,” I said with a shake of my head and a shrug.

“You know, Sean Cassidy?” she pressed, tilting her head to the side.

“Not ringing a bell.”

“The Hardy Boys Mysteries?”

I shook my head again, wondering if Sam knew who she was talking about.

“Well, he might have been a bit before your time. But back in the day, he was a real looker, and all the girls loved his voice.”

“Sounds fabulous,” I said with a hint of sarcasm. “But no,weare not Sean Cassidy. There is a Sean, and there is a Cassidy, but we are not together.”

“Might want to check your phone before you start denying anything,” Sam teased, tossing it back to me as he got up to use the restroom.

I looked down at the screen, and my eyes widened.

Fucker Face: Feel free to touch it if it makes you feel better.

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