Page 55 of Holiday at Home
Violet snuggles into my side, her feet curled up on the couch, glass of wine in hand, my arm thrown around her shoulders as we reminisce with Nora and Robbie.
It's cozy. Simple.
Not in a bad way. In thebestway.
Last year, I worked right up until Christmas Eve night, then went to a party at Gavin’s brownstone. I wore a suit, my hair slicked back, a champagne flute perpetually clutched in my hand as a pianist gently played familiar carols. Women in floor length gowns talked to me about nothing important, pretending to undress me with their eyes when they were really interested in my bank account. It was elegant, uptight, expensive… and completely boring.
But here? With Violet? There’s no snow. The wine came from a grocery store. The “cozy” fire is flickering on the TV, but the conversation is good. The friendship is real. It’s low rent, unpolished… perfect. It satisfies an ache I didn’t know existed.
“Remember when we wandered onto that private beach when we were what? Sixteen?” Robbie asks, the lights from the tree flickering in his dark hair. “We had no idea where we were, or that we were even trespassing, but when the cops showed up, we ran like idiots.”
“Oh my gosh! Yes!” Violet sits up, looking at me with astonished eyes. “It was midnight or something and chilly, so we had our hoods up. We had to have looked sketchy as hell.”
Nora chuckles, shaking her head. “It’s a wonder we weren’t arrested.”
“Or how about that time you nearly killed us on our skateboards with your car?” Robbie says with a wide grin and Nora sits bolt upright, shaking her head.
“That wasnotmy fault!”
“That’s not how I remember it.” Robbie looks to me, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Right, Si?”
I place a hand to my heart. “I remember two innocent young men holding onto the back of your car while riding skateboards…”
“See! Totally innocent!” Robbie exclaims and I continue.
“And then the piece of trash that was randomly on the roof of your car?—”
“You mean the drink I had just opened but forgot because you two came barreling out to inform me I was going to drive down the road with you holding onto the bumper?” Nora shakes her head, spine straight in her righteousness.
Robbie looks at his wife with adoration in his eyes. “Those details aren’t important.”
“They’re super important!” She drops her jaw. “Seeing as that drink came flying off is what caused you to fall in the first place, taking Simon with you.”
Robbie points at Nora like he’s caught her in a lie. “The drinkyouleft on the roof. See? Your fault.”
“Becauseyouhurried me and rushed me intoyouridea. Definitely your fault.”
The room dissolves into laughter. Violet leans into me, shaking her head.“And there I was, watching the whole thing from the driveway, thinking maybe our boyfriends had just been killed.”
Laughter ensues. Wine flows. The conversation continues.
“Remember when we had that bonfire at the beach after prom?”
“Oh my gosh that was the best. Someone brought beer. Someone else brought a guitar.”
“That was the night we snuck away,” Violet says, craning to meet my eyes. “And we…” She trails off, blushing furiously.
“It was a good night,” I reply, running my hand through her hair.
“The best night,” she agrees.
Robbie clears his throat. “And on that note—” He slaps his knees and stands. “Why don’t Nora and I head upstairs and give you two some alone time.”
“Behave,” Nora teases us as she follows her husband, but her smile says she already knows we won’t.
When the stairs creak and the laughter fades, the house feels smaller—quieter. Only the tree lights move, painting our skin with gold and green.
Violet starts gathering glasses, but I take them from her hands. “I’ve got it.”
