Page 2 of UnLucky Christmas
In other words, don’t bother her during work hours. I know her so well. She probably didn’t even take an actual lunch break. I imagine her scarfing down a turkey sandwich at her desk while she scrolls through reports filled with numbers and statistics. I’d die of boredom.
I smile proudly at my latest purchase and return to what I should be doing—working.
* * *
As soon asI step through the front door, Dasher is there to greet me. Dasher is my cat who still adores me despite having a serious case of RBF. Surprisingly, he likes all of my friends including Pete. It was touch and go for a while, but he finally warmed up to him and now purrs every time Pete picks him up. They have a sweet connection.
“Hey, little Dash,” I say as I swoop him up into my arms. He lets out a purr and gently lays his head against my chest. Admittedly, I never was an animal person until my brother’s girlfriend, Emme asked if I’d consider getting a pet. I had no idea she meant she had a kitten waiting for me, but as soon as I met Dasher, it was love at first sight. Well, maybe not love, but he’s an adorable Persian cat with fluffy white fur and a good personality. At least for a cat. He was hard to resist as a tiny little furball. Naturally, I gave him a proper Christmas name after one of Santa’s reindeer, and he’s been a loyal sidekick ever since.
“I ordered a new Christmas tree, so prepare yourself,” I say out loud. I still can’t believe I’m talking to an animal. Younger Whitney never would’ve done this.
I’ve heard some horror stories about cats climbing into Christmas trees and destroying them. Thankfully, Dasher hasn’t done that.
I stretch out on the couch and prop my feet up on the ottoman. Dasher curls up next to me, so I gently pet him while he dozes off.
I go to the notes page on my phone and read through the plans for the party. I’m not ashamed to admit I start planning our Christmas celebration months in advance. We always have it at Janelle’s parents’ house, which is massive and the perfect location for entertaining. Her parents are rarely home, and even if they were, they’re usually celebrating right along with us. They had Janelle very late in life and both retired from their jobs early—now they travel and belong to every social club you can imagine.
I finally get up from the couch and head to my room to freshen up for my evening with Pete. Dasher gives me a dirty look when I disturb him from his restful slumber.
“Sorry, Dash.” I say out loud. “I know you’ve had a long day of doing nothing, and how dare I disrupt your beauty rest.”
Pete is notoriously late, so I know I still have plenty of time before he arrives. As I brush through my shoulder-length brown hair, Dasher rubs up against my leg. I tell him Pete will be here soon and change into a pair of skinny jeans and a light sweater. I add some mascara to my eyelashes, highlighter to my cheeks and some pale pink lip-gloss to my lips.
While I’m getting ready, my phone buzzes.
“What’s up?” I answer.
“Okay, let’s finalize everything so we can get the invites out.”
I smile to myself. I’m glad Janelle is so detail oriented. I consider myself organized but nothing like she is. She even has a plan for organizing her planner. I’ve never seen anything like it.
“I only have a few minutes,” I say. “Pete’s on his way.”
“So, in other words we have plenty of time,” she suggests.
I giggle to myself. “Probably.”
Pete’s lack of punctuality is frustrating for Janelle. She hates being late for anything, so when we go out with her and her boyfriend, I tell Pete an earlier time. It usually works, and everyone is happy, which makes it easy for me.
“I gave my mom the date, so that’s set. I think they’ll be out of town this year, so we won’t have to endure bad karaoke from them.”
I laugh. Last year her parents performed an interesting rendition of Santa Baby. It was a cringeworthy moment for Janelle. She told me she had a few extra therapy sessions after that night.
“Oh, that’s a shame,” I say.
“Um, no it’s not,” she snaps. “Anyway, I talked to Kiki’s Kickass Catering. The food was to die for last year, and since they received so many referrals from our party, they’re giving us a deal on the food this year.”
“Perfect.” I say, scrolling through my list.
I’m interrupted by a knock on my door. I glance at the time. Wow, Pete’s only three minutes late tonight. That might be a new record for him.
“Hang on, I think Pete’s here.”
I check the doorbell camera, and sure enough it’s him.
“He’s here. I’ll talk to you later,” I tell Janelle.
“Have fun.”
