Page 28 of Not Like Christmas At All
For once, I don’t argue with her. We fall into a comfortable silence, listening to the sportscaster talk football. It’s exactly what I need in this moment, and I’m happy to have my parents and one of my brothers here.
Sometimes all a girl needs is her mama, and mine is nothing short of amazing.
The delicious scent of garlic and onions wafts into the air, and I turn back to watch my mother cook.
This is peaceful—I’mhappy.
And even though things certainly didn’t go as planned this Christmas, I can’t help but feel content with the way the evening is turning out.
Then I remember?—
“Did anyone bring the plastic wrap ball? Are we going to play?”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” My brother gives me a condescending side-eye, finally removing his retinas from his phone and joining us back on planet Earth.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know. I’m not the one with the concussion.”
Everyone needs to stop focusing on me having a concussion. It’s really not that big of a deal.“You guys are acting like I lost a limb. I’m fine.”
“If you insist,” my mother murmurs, pulling open the oven and prodding the flakey, golden brown spanakopita with a wooden spoon. “Perfect, perfect.”
The shrill sound of the doorbell ringing snaps my attention toward my entryway as my sister and my eldest brother burst through the door without waiting to be let in. Why they bothered ringing the doorbell is beyond me. They’re bickering, voices competing in a familiar sibling banter they never outgrew.
Two hours later, my entire family is seated cross-legged around my coffee table, laughter filling the room. With full stomachs and smiles wide, we settle into playing the game we’ve all been anxiously waiting for. My dad’s already geared up in a pair of pink oven mitts with strawberries on them, my mother waiting with red translucent dice in hand.
My heart is full, yet there’s been a lingering thought in my mind that’s been impossible to shake. With every glance I sneak at my phone, I circle back to the conversation I know I need to have with the one person who won’t leave my thoughts.
Chapter Twelve
Alight bout of dizziness hits as I stand in front of my bathroom mirror, applying makeup to my freshly washed face. I steady myself with a deep exhale, gripping the sides of the sink for balance. Preparing for my work’s holiday party has been a whole process as I take things slow so I don’t bring on another head rush.
After dinner and our game last night, my sister waited patiently as I took the world’s longest shower. Then she gave me a blowout, smoothing my wild curls to silky perfection, which I ended up curling with my curling iron for a different look than usual.
My evening starts in fifteen minutes, but I have no problem being fashionably late. Showing up right on time would only make it more obvious I’m showing up alone.
As I swipe the mascara wand against my eyelashes, the glow of my phone catches my eye in the bathroom mirror. Pausing, wand suspended midair, I glance at the screen.
Lincoln called once this morning and texted me earlier this afternoon, both of which I ignored. He wants to talk, and I know it’s a good idea if we do, but I’m also afraid.
My gut tells me his behavior while I was in the hospital was just a moment of vulnerability. A lapse of judgment. He’s probably calling to apologize for flirting, and reaffirm he doesn’t have feelings for me—romantically, or otherwise.
Frankly, I don’t think my heart can take it.
Expelling a shaky breath, I return to the task at hand—applying my makeup and making myself look absolutely phenomenal for this Christmas party.
There’s not a single soul I am interested in impressing other than myself, and after spending time wearing a hospital gown this week, I figure I owe it to myself to get a little dolled up.
Once my makeup is perfected, I strip down to my lacy thong and strapless bra, then grab my dress from where it hangs on the back of the bathroom door.
Layers of chocolate-brown tulle hang in an elegant skirt from a princess cut bodice, stealing my breath away for the hundredth time. I’m utterly obsessed with the uniqueness of the dress—such a simple design, in a neutral color, yet I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. Although it doesn’tscreamholiday party, the feeling I have when it’s on my body is unmatched.
Sliding the dress on, I maneuver it into place, studying my reflection as the whole look comes together. When I’m satisfied, I turn the bathroom light off and return to my room.
As per usual, Pebbles stretches lazily on my bed, my presence pulling her from another slumber. She takes up more than half of the space on my duvet and seems to be in no hurry to move.
“I’ll be back in a few hours, girl,” I tell her as she yawns. “You stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”
