Page 14 of Holly and Nick Hate Christmas
“You know how the saying goes.” I started toward the porchsteps, calling over my shoulder. “First comes love,thencomes marriage and then the baby carriage.”
Dad fell into step behind me, carrying my duffel as easily as if it were a backpack instead of the beast that had taken me ten minutes to wrestle into my car. Ryan’s wardrobe accusations had me doubting every article in my closet, but after that blue sweater splurge and Christmas shopping, I couldn’t afford to even swing by a thrift store.
I’d basically brought everything that still fit.
“How’s that going, by the way?” Dad asked as we clomped up the stairs. “The whole love and marriage progression?”
“Dad!” My voice squeaked in protest. “We’re not even inside yet.”
He laughed as he reached around me to pull open the screen door. “I figured I’d get it out of the way before your mother was in earshot. You know I’ll go easier on you.”
He had a point. I wrinkled my nose, tugging my purse strap higher on my shoulder. Best to get this over with. “No boyfriend right now.”
Dad frowned. “What about that IKEA—”
“I do have a date for the holidays, though.”
“You do?” Dad’s brows hiked over his glasses.
He didn’t have to sound so surprised. Though I guess that answered my question as to whether or not my brother had explained about the bonus guest this year. “Ryan’s friend, Nick. That’s why he’s joining us for Christmas.”
“Oh, is it?” A muscle jumped in Dad’s jaw. Briefly, but it happened. Was he feeling protective of me?
A little rush of warmth spread through my chest. That was nice. With the rest of my siblings away this Christmas, maybe I’d keep a bit of my parents’ attention for once. Even if I did still have to share with Lydia and a near stranger.
I patted Dad’s shoulder. “Nick’s a good guy, don’t worry.”
“I’m sure he is. Are you sure—Never mind.” Dad cleared his throat, then abruptly turned, bumping my bag through the doorframe and into the living room. “Grace! Holly’s here!”
I followed Dad inside, dumping my other bags on the benched hall tree as he took my duffel around the corner and up the stairs. The scent of berry and vanilla hung in the air—cookies, already? My stomach growled.
Then I realized something even more disconcerting than the lack of Frosty outside. Not a single Christmas decoration graced the foyer or living room.
I spun a slow circle as the theme song forThe Twilight Zoneplayed in my head. Cream-colored walls and couches, sage green throw pillows. A plush brown blanket draped aesthetically over the back of the sectional. Wood stacked neatly next to an unadorned fireplace.
No stockings. No garland. Not a single Christmas tree.
My stomach dropped. “Um…Mom?”
Gravel crunched and my stomach dropped again, this time from nerves. They were here.
Nick was here.
I suddenly felt incredibly appreciative of Ryan’s controlling mannerisms as I tugged the asymmetrical hem of my black sweater over the top of my jeans and smoothed my hair. I tried again. “Mom?”
No answer. Hmm.
A car door slammed, and I hurried toward the door. Nerves tap-danced in my chest. Would Nick be as cute as I’d remembered? Would he notice the five pounds I’d added since our meeting last year or think I had too many freckles?
Would he really hate Christmas as much as me?
Ryan and Lydia tugged a laundry basket full of gifts from the back seat as an unfamiliar red truck parked behind Ryan’s Subaru.I hurried down the porch stairs, brushing a stray lock of hair out of my eyes—
And landed in a heap at the bottom of the steps.
Ow.I sat up just as Lydia gasped. “Holly, are you okay?” She palmed her dainty, makeup-free face in shock.
I’d really hoped no one had seen that. I groaned as I wrestled my ankle out from under me. All in one piece, thankfully.
