Page 36 of A Very Merry Matchup
Beau
So many Christmas songs are getting butchered by my family tonight, we may as well open a meat market. If Janey and her husband Walter’s off-key sultry version of “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” wasn’t scarring enough, Mom is forever ruining “Santa Baby” by singing to Dad while he sits in his recliner wearing a Santa hat.
“Oh, please make it stop,” Nana says when Mom gives a little shimmy before plopping down on Dad’s lap and making the legs of the recliner spring forward.
“Get ’em, Aunt Cecilia!Ow-Oww!” Janey shouts.
“I might need therapy after this,” I say to Ivy, who’ssitting behind my right shoulder on the couch while I sit on the floor playing with Pinky Collar.
“Our turn, Bo-Bo.” Soon as the song ends, Mia, Janey’s four-year-old daughter, jumps onto my lap and holds my face between her little hands so I’m peering straight into her brown eyes. “Let’s sing about hot chocolate,” she whispers.
“Okay,” I whisper back. Seems appropriate considering she’s wearing a marshmallowy hot chocolate mustache.
“I sing too,” says Janey’s other little girl, Felicity. She’s two and every bit as adorable as Mia. Pretty sure there’s not a song in the world I wouldn’t sing for these two girls.
Which is why I’m soon on my knees with a microphone singing the lyrics to “Hot Chocolate” fromThe Polar Expresswhile Mia and Felicity both jump up and down, yelling “Hot Chocolate” in no particular rhythm as Pinky and Hamish bark and leap around us.
I catch Ivy trying to smother her giggles and shoot her a wink. She better not think she’s getting out of any performances tonight.
When the song ends to resounding applause, my mom stands and yells, “Who’s ready for popcorn and ice cream?”
The girls immediately cheer, but I hold up my hands. “Hold it. We’ve still got one more song to go. Not everyone has performed yet.”
Ivy is already shaking her head. “Trust me, you don’t want to hear me sing.”
“I didn’t want to hear them either,” says Nana, pointing at my parents, “but that sure didn’t stop them.”
“You don’t have to do a solo,” says Janey. “I’m sure Beau will sing with you. Duet, duet,” she starts chanting. Or maybe she’s chanting “Do it, do it.” Doesn’t matter. If there’s one thing about my family, it’s that they’re all quick to join in on a chant whether they know what they’re saying or not.
Lifting her palms in surrender, Ivy climbs off the couch. “Fine. But only because you guys have been wonderful letting me stay here as a guest when I wasn’t actually supposed to be here.”
“Oh, honey,” says Mom. “You’re way past guest status. You’re one of us whether you like it or not. We’re just glad we get to keep you for another entire week.”
Ivy’s holding the karaoke microphone now, so her words are amplified when she says, “Not another week. My friend Lucy needs me to get down to Nashville. Sorry.”
My stomach drops. There’s a lot of “What? No. How come?” comments from everyone in the living room. “How soon?” I ask Ivy.
She’s still speaking into the microphone. “The twenty-sixth.”
“The twenty-sixth?” Nana’s voice is louder than if shewere holding the microphone. “That’s just a few days away. Who’s the friend? Let me talk to her.”
“Stand down, Nana. You can’t harass Ivy’s friends,” I tell her.
“She certainly can,” says Mom. “The whole reason Lucy sent Ivy here in the first place was so she could get to know her future in-laws. Lucy can’t just snatch her away.”
“Mom does make a good point,” I say to Ivy.
Ivy’s cheeks flush a little pink as she hands me the microphone. “Maybe it’s a good thing I am getting out of here a little early.”
It’s not a good thing. It’s a terrible thing. But I try smiling back at her anyway.
“I wasn’t going to bring this up until later,” says Janey, waddling more than usual as she ambles up to Ivy. “Walter and I have been talking, and we want you and Beau to raise our girls if we don’t make it through this next delivery.”
“Why wouldn’t Walter make it through your delivery?” Dad asks.
“Shh.” Janey bats a hand at Dad before dragging Ivy over to me, so she can join our hands together. “We really want our children to grow up with both a mother and a father, so we’d both feel a lot better going into this labor knowing you two were at least engaged.”
Her face scrunches up as she holds her belly. “Better do it fast. I think this one’s coming early.”
