Page 18 of Not Like Christmas At All
From across the table, two of my brothers start busting up laughing.
“Well, tell us about him,” my father urges.
I bury my head in my hands.
What in the actual snowball effect is happening right now?
With a groan, I push the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, willing myself to disappear.
“For God’s sake, everyone, calm down. I didn’t meet anyone,” I finally snap. Ripping my hands from my eyes, my vision blurs, but quickly clears to the sight of far too many curious eyes on me.
“Liar,” Fern mumbles under her breath, and since she’s sitting right next to me, I hurl my elbow into her side.
She grunts. “Ow, Gen, what the hell?”
“Yeah, what the hell?”
“All right, my children,” Mom’s melodic, yet authoritative voice raises through our bickering. “Settle down. It’s Christmas Eve, and you’re acting like heathens. If Gen says there is no one, then there is no one. Be respectful—all of you!”
“Thank you, Mom.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at my siblings.
With a soft chuckle, Mom stands and begins to stack empty soup bowls, holding them between her hands carefully, then walks into the kitchen. Seconds later, the sound of running water from the faucet fills the air. I’m still staring daggers at my siblings when we all hear a gasp, followed by a clatter of ceramic hitting the metal basin.
Our father is on his feet faster than I can blink.
“It’s snowing!” she squeals, excitement bubbling out of her as she claps her hands together, pressing up on her tiptoes for a better look out the window overlooking the backyard. “And the snow is sticking!”
“This is San Diego; we don’t get snow.” My youngest brother scratches the top of his head, walking over to the sliding glass door to see for himself.
Pushing it open, the freezing air flows in, and we’re all able to catch sight of the snow coating the artificial grass. “Well, damn. I guess I’m the liar of this house now. Look at this shit!”
Following him out onto the back patio, my arms instinctively wrap around my middle for warmth. In each hand, he forms a small snowball, then chucks one in my direction and the other in Elliott’s.
As the crisp little snowball connects with my shoulder, it’s like every member of the Nikolaou household has been transported back in time to when all of us were kids and my parents took us to see the snow for the very first time up in Julian.
But we’re notinJulian this time, and it’s been sixty-five years since San Diego’s last snowstorm—a rarity that just doesn’t happen this close to the ocean, when our weather is practically perfect year-round.
But as my younger sister slips her hand into mine and gives it a squeeze, I know we’re all thinking the exact same thing: it’s our first white Christmas.
And if I have to miss Christmas Day with my family, at least I get to be here on Christmas Eve to experience this with them.
Chapter Seven
Ayawn hits me as I step off the elevator. The early morning sun casts a warm glow through the hallway as I approach the nurses’ locker room, and I’m greeted by a veteran nurse with a warm smile as she pushes open the door for us both. “Hey, Nurse Nikolaou! Don’t you look spritely.”
Despite being bummed about spending the holiday at the hospital, I’ve come in with my Christmas cheer in full force. A red sequin bow, this one sporting a Santa hat in the center, holds my hair in a festive messy bun, and I’m wearing my favorite pair of candy cane socks, which match my pink scrubs perfectly. I’m in labor and delivery again today and excited about the possibility of delivering an extra special gift today.
“Merry Christmas to you, Nurse Edwin! Are you working the full day?” Spinning the lock on my locker, it opens easily, and I shove my purse inside, then tug my cardigan from my shoulders. It’s freezing outside, and as I remove the warm layer of clothing, I realize inside isn’t much better.
The snow hasn’t let up since I left my parents’ last night, and according to the weather forecast, it’s expected to get worse before it gets better. Although I’ll be inside all day, I’m stillriding Cloud Nine that I got to experience the first few hours of San Diego’s white Christmas with my family. It’s almost more than I could’ve asked for, and it made me feel so much better about not spending today with them.
“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me all day, dear.” Nurse Edwin gives me a warm smile and pats me on the shoulder. “I don’t mind it though. My family is back east, and no one wants to travel to spend the holidays with this old bird. Not with the cost of flights these days.”
“Why don’t you go to them?”
She gives me a tight lip smile. “Fear of flying.”
“I get it. I’m not much of a traveler myself. Well, why don’t we try to make today as fun and festive as we possibly can?”
