Page 20 of Oh No, My Best Friend Hates Christmas!

Not giving me any sort of chance to recover – perhaps a moment to slow my heart rate down a couple hundred beats per minute – he rolls onto his back, pulling me as he goes to lie on his chest.

He takes a deep breath, then starts talking in his typical sleepover way. That is, in the way designed to absolutely eviscerate everything within me. It is an abuse of the heart, the things he says to me.

“I love you, Heidi. More than I could ever tell you, though I hope I show it well enough. You’re caring and thoughtful. Kind and sweet. Brave. You don’t let what you view as your flaws stop you from being who you are. You live with them. You twist them into something so charming and adorable that I couldn’t imagine you without them. I wouldn’t even want you without them. I love it when you talk ‘too much’ and when you say the wrong thing and when you tell a joke that doesn’t always land for everyone else, but you laugh anyway. Watching you entertain yourself is the highlight of my life. And I mean that literally. You light up my life – fill it so full of goodness and wonder that I can hardly remember the gloom I was living in before you.

“I don’t want you to ever forget how much you mean to me. More than anyone or anything, you’re on top. My number one forever. My best friend. The woman I love most in the entire world. My baby. My Heidi.”

He stops assaulting me with compliments, and his arms tighten around me to the point of pain – to the point of suffocation – but I don’t make a move to stop him. I wasn’t breathing anyway, not since “brave” came out of his mouth, gravelly and sweet.

After several long seconds, he loosens his hold, and my greedy lungs suck in all the ginger-scented air they can get.

“My flaws aren’t charming and adorable,” I wheeze, ignoring the rest of whatever that was. It’s not even April. I’m not mentally prepared for the aftermath of a sweet Bazzy speech.

He shakes his head, then kisses my temple.

“They are. They’re the most charming and adorable things I’ve ever seen. Nameonethat isn’t, and I’ll concede to you.”

His eyebrows challenge me, rising high on his forehead.

“I never shut up!” I start. “And I don’t think before I say all the things I’m saying during the times when I am not shutting up. And I say inappropriate things during those times I’m not thinking before I speak, when I am busy not shutting up!”

“You don’t need to shut up. I love hearing your every thought – inappropriate or not – and I love that you don’t filter yourself. You’rereal.Honest.”

I shake my head. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’tget it.

“I’m not, though. I’m just a blabbermouth with no off switch,” I tell him.

He shakes me.

“Yeah, that’s the good part.”

I open my big blabbermouth to counter, but he doesn’t give me a chance.

“Baby,that’s the good part.Everyone is always so worried about perfectly selecting their every word and action. It’s pretense after pretense, and underneath it all is pure ugliness. It’s not kindness – like you. It’s not graciousness – like you. It’s not goodness and consideration –like you. People hide vitriol and judgment beneath pretty, curated words that mean nothing. You’re different. You say what’s on your mind, always, and even if it’s rude or inappropriate, it’s nevermean– unless you’re talking about Archie, but that could hardly count. He thinks mean words are sonnets in his favor. So even when you’re mean, you’re kind. People aren’t like that. It’s special, Dee.You’respecial.”

My head drops to his chest, and tears slide down my nose to wet his shirt. I sniffle.

Ifeelspecial.

Baz always makes me feel special.

Special enough that I have to admit that maybe his words have some truth to them. Maybe I actuallyamspecial – at leastto him.

“Thank you, Bazzy.” It comes out watery, but I don’t have it in me to care. I’m dealing with a lot of emotions right now. I’m allowed to cry a little.

“You don’t need to thank me for telling you a basic fact.Ishould be thankingyoufor being the type of woman you are – the breath of fresh air in a world sorely lacking. I’m sorry I don’t tell you enough. We both know words aren’t easy for me, but you deserve all the words in the world if you want them – if you need them. I’ll fill the gaps in between your every utterance with words of your beauty and wonder. I’ll find the voice to tell you every moment of every day how good you are and how much good you deserve.”

My breath shudders out of me, and it’s all I can do not to sob.

He’s just sosweet.

“No, Bazzy. No. You don’t have to change a thing. You’re perfect and wonderful and show me so much love just the way you are.”

“Hush, baby.” His arms tighten three times around me –I love you. “I’ll be whatever you need me to be. Whatever you want me to be.”I love you.“The fact that all you ask for is for me to be exactly who I am just proves how incredible and perfect you are.”I love you.

I sniffle again and squeeze him back one, two, three times as well.

I love you, too, I tell him silently.

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