Page 31 of Intermission
Faith:
All of them.
Faith:
I take that back. I loathe “Jingle Bells.”
Noah:
Loathe? Strong word! Why?
Faith:
3rd Grade Music Class. Recorders.
Noah:
Say no more.
He hasn’t met my parents yet. But since I don’t consider a rehearsal a date, I hardly see a reason to invoke the dreaded “meet the parents” rule. We’re talking, yes. But talking doesn’t always result in a dating relationship. Sometimes, it’s just... talking. Most of the time, we discuss music and theatre-related things. We don’t talk about love or romantic stuff or... whatever couples talk about.
When Mom calls me down to dinner, I’m humming “O Come, All Ye Faithful” while texting Jenna about my evening plans.
Faith:
What should I wear?
Jenna:
How about that silver thing your sister wore last New Year’s Eve?
Faith:
Singing at a nursinghome, Jen. Not clubbing.
Jenna:
Do you have a cat sweater with jingle bells sewn on? There’s a crowd pleaser.
Faith:
LOL. But seriously.
Jenna:
Hmm.
I wait. And wait. Still humming, I take my seat.
“No singing at the table,” Dad reminds me as he reaches for a wheat roll.
I stop humming. “Shouldn’t we pray before we eat?”
My parents look at me and then at each other. Mom shrugs. “Itisalmost Christmas. Go ahead, Faith. But put your phone away first. You know the rule.”
I slide it under my leg. Of course it vibrates immediately. Most likely Jenna’s reply, but I won’t know until dinner is over.
After listening to Christmas music all day, our family’s traditional, rhyming blessing seems even more ridiculous.
