by Tif Marcelo
I open my mouth to remind her that she canceled once on me too; instead, I exhale. She’s right. My mind has been everywhere, and I haven’t been following through. “I’m sorry.”
Her rigid expression eases. “I’m sorry too.” She turns in the seat. “I don’t mean to be all clingy and dramatic, but this is our last holiday together. Who knows where we’ll be next year?”
My heart picks up speed. “What are you talking about? We’re going to be back here for winter break.”
“I know, but what if we lose touch?” Her gaze drops to her lap. “Ugh. I’m having a hard time explaining.”
“Carm?”
“Let me try again.” She takes a breath. “I’m actually happy for you. Seeing you so excited around Teddy is really great. But so much is changing.”
“Weren’t you the one who said that change was inevitable? And what else did you say?”
“It’s not all bad.” Her lips curl into a grin. “I should know better than to dispense advice.”
“You’re actually right, though. Things are changing. I feel it in everything. I even applied for that internship yesterday.”
Her face brightens. “Yeah? And how do you feel about the decision?”
“That’s the thing, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay not to know. But at least you’re keeping an open mind.”
“I guess.” We settle into a silence. I reach for her hand and squeeze. “It’s going to be our holiday, Carm.”
At first she simply glances at our clasped hands. Then she looks up. “Really?”
“Really. We’ll figure it out. I still have work, but we’re going to conquer that list together.”
“So we’ll decorate cookies at Yule Be Baking?”
We did that same activity for Carm’s tenth birthday. I nod.
“Can it be just the two of us?”
“That sounds perfect. Just the two of us.”
“And we’re still on for ice-skating at Prancer’s tomorrow?”
I groan. “Me on skates is asking for trouble, but yes, I’m still down. We can invite KC if you want. His boyfriend is in town. Unless you don’t—”
“I do. And I’ll ask Aiden.”
“Aiden, huh?” I wriggle my eyebrows at her, and she play-shoves me.
“I’ll get everyone in the group chat. Maybe we can even squeeze in a couple more things during the day.”
“What’s up in the group chat?” Teddy comes around the couch, holding three cups of what looks like sparkling apple cider. He hands each one of us a cup and sinks into the cushion next to me. “For the dessert toast.”
“Ice-skating tomorrow. Want to come with us?” Carm asks, then tips the cup to her lips.
“I think he’s working.” I shoot eye-daggers at her. It’s one thing for me and Teddy to have this silly back-and-forth, but wholly another to make this a triple date.
“I don’t need to work until tomorrow night. I love ice-skating,” Teddy says.
Of course he does.
“Great! It’s a plan.” Carm thumbs her phone with one hand. “Teddy, give me your number and I can add you to my contacts.”
While Teddy relays his number, and I’m thinking of all the ways I can torture Carm for her treachery, the squeal of the karaoke speaker catches our attention.
“Hello, hello,” Graham says into the microphone. He inserts a disk into the machine.
Oh no.
Next to me, Teddy and Carm sit up straighter.
One by one, the adults bring their chairs to the living room and take a seat, each with a drink in their hand.
“As soon as Tita Lou said there would be karaoke, I was like, I can’t wait,” Teddy says.
“Get your lungs ready, Teddy, because this is when you get to show your stuff,” Carm adds.
I press the cold cup of cider against my cheek. Ghost of Christmas Future, help me.
* * *
I’m surprised we’re not visited by a neighbor complaining of a noise disturbance—we are that loud.
Correction, Teddy is that loud. He’s front and center in my living room, singing “Footloose” and running in place.
“Is he high?” I say aloud, practically screaming, though only Carm has a chance of hearing me. Have I said the place is loud?
“He’s just having fun!”
The music changes, and it’s a duet. “Summer Nights” from the movie Grease.
I giggle. “Here we go.”
As predicted, Mom and Dad leap to their feet like they’ve been waiting for this song all their lives. They both grab mics. Dad practices his scales.
The sofa whooshes next to me as Teddy sits. “I haven’t done that in forever. Why haven’t you gone up?”
“Don’t you worry,” I laugh. “No one gets away unscathed.”
“This is so much fun. Dang,” he says. “Are you guys always like this?”
“Chaotic?”
“Festive.” His expression is open, almost vulnerable, and for a moment the rest of the room fades away. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I avert my eyes. “What way?” But what I don’t say is that, once again, Teddy has surprised me. Who knew he was a karaoke lover?
A cackle distracts him, thank goodness, and he turns his attention to his aunt, who’s three sheets to the wind from sugar and is laughing so hard with Carm’s parents that she’s wiping away tears. “I have never seen Tita Lou this happy.”
“You should hear her when she sings ‘I Did It My Way.’ She can hit those notes.”
The house phone rings, and heads turn. “I’ll get it!” Mom leaves the stage, aka in front of the television, and rushes to the kitchen. “Arturo, it’s Tatang. He has a question! Sorry, guys, give us a few minutes!”
“My lolo Bob,” I explain to Carm and Teddy. “In Manila.”
As Dad passes us, he tosses the microphones into my and Teddy’s laps. “Don’t waste a perfectly good song.” To Teddy he says, “Lila has a beautiful voice. She knows this song inside and out.”
“Dad!”
But Dad has already pulled me to my feet. Carm cackles. Teddy saunters his way to the front.
There’s no way of getting out of this. Not only have I been instructed to sing, but now everyone’s expecting a performance. Irene is grinning like the devil she is—she better not record any of this, I swear.
But when Teddy sings the first line, with a grin on his face, I can’t help but get into it. My body goes on autopilot. At first, my voice shakes from nervousness; it has less to do with karaoke and more to do with Teddy, who is raising the bar of this weird friendship. He’s looking right into my eyes. He sways in time to the beat. Then he flips up the collar of his button-down like Danny himself, and winks.
Is it real? Is it fake? Is he simply swept up with the karaoke?
It doesn’t matter, because I swoon for real, saved only by the next line of the song. For this moment, I believe him. Like I’m the girl he fell for over one summer.
Even if we are in the middle of the snow-covered Finger Lakes region at Christmastime.
MONDAY, DECEMBER 27
“Ooooh! We’re almost there!” Carm says next to me. She claps her mittens together, squealing, way more excited than the kids of the family in line in front of us. We’re about five feet away from the entrance of Santa’s cottage.
Apparently, Santa loves Holly so much that he spends an extra couple of days with us, and taking a picture with him is tenth on the list of things to do in Holly.
If only it wasn’t nine in the morning.
My eyelids are heavy from the long night. The last of our guests, Ms. Velasco and Teddy, didn’t leave until after midnight. So I squint at the bright but deceiving sky, a popsicle under three layers of clothing.
“I can’t believe
people do this every year,” I say. “I’ve seen the line snake around the town square.”
“I know. So count your Christmas blessings that most everyone is still tucked in their bed. Oh yay!” Carm’s hand shoots up. “Over here, guys!”
After a slew of apologies from familiar low voices, KC appears with who I assume is Seb. They’re holding hands, and KC is positively beaming.
It’s a hug fest replete with basic introductions, and we huddle closer together as we all catch up with everyone’s Christmas celebrations.
KC announces, “He met the parentals.”
“Aaand how did it go?” I ask.
Sebastian bites his lip, grinning. “It went all right.”
“They love him, of course,” KC added.
“Aw, that’s great. Right, Carm?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Carm’s looking over my shoulder, at a guy walking in our direction. It’s Aiden O’Conner. All six feet of him, in a navy-blue coat and a beanie covering his dark blond hair. “Do I look okay? Am I overdressed?” She looks down. “Maybe I wore too many layers. I mean, it will be good while we take pictures, but not for ice-skating later. Talk about a heatstroke in the making. Hey, aren’t you officially certified in CPR? Do they teach heatstroke maintenance? They really should if they don’t already. Oh gosh, maybe I shouldn’t have invited him. He probably thinks this is all cheesy—”
“Carm!”
Her eyes dart my direction. Tendrils of hair have fallen out of her knit cap, and her cheeks are red, more from nervousness than the chill. “What?”
“Breathe!”
Her lips purse, and sure enough, she exhales just as Aiden approaches.
Then someone else sidles up to me.
I look up. It’s Teddy, eyes bright. My body warms at least ten degrees.
What cold?
“You look chipper,” I whisper. Beyond him staying past midnight at my house last night, we texted afterward, until I could no longer keep my eyes open.
“I sent a thirteen today,” he whispers into my ear, excitement in his voice.
I have no idea what that means, but it still sends shivers through me.
As if reading my thoughts, he says, “I’ll have to show you one of these days.”
Now it’s me who can’t seem to breathe.
When we get to Santa’s cottage door, the host, dressed as Santa’s elf, asks, “Would you like to take a group picture, or in couples?”
“It’s…um…” I look around. We are, in fact, three couples.
“I…uhhh,” Carm adds.
“Group!” KC says, saving the moment.
We shuffle indoors, down a small corridor, toward a very realistic-looking Santa.
“He’s so real, it’s creepy,” KC whispers.
The host elf has no time for small talk. She shuffles us next to Santa. “Some rules: no sitting on Santa’s lap if you’re over fifty pounds, not even in jest. All right. You go here.” Host Elf pulls Carm on Santa’s right, me on Santa’s left, and somehow, the Elf has enough foresight to couple everyone up so that Teddy is behind me.
Host Elf skips next to Camera Elf. “All right, everyone. Get close.”
Across from me, Carm giggles. And I see why. Aiden’s hand is on her shoulder.
Then I feel a hand on mine.
“This okay?” Teddy asks, his face ridiculously close to mine.
My heart stutters to a stop. “Um, uh-huh.”
“Ready, kids?” Santa asks. “On three, say ‘Santa needs a nap!’ ”
“Santa needs a nap!” we say in chorus, and burst into laughter.
Except with Teddy touching me, I am now absolutely wide awake.
* * *
The picture is sent to Carm’s email for future purchase and the five of us hover around her as she pulls it up. We’re in line for shoes at our next Mission: Holly task, Prancer’s Ice Rink, six out of six of us amped with our bellies happy after grabbing cider doughnuts at Comet’s.
“Awww. That’s cute!” Seb says. “We all look super happy.”
“Santa knew exactly how to make us smile,” Aiden says. “I heard they’ve hired the same Santa the last five years because he’s so good.”
We make it to the skate-rental counter, where each of us calls out our sizes and grabs our skates. Then we find an empty bench for all of us to sit and switch out our shoes.
“The last time I skated was when I was thirteen,” Teddy says.
“I thought you said you liked ice-skating.”
“I mean, I do. It’s just been forever.”
“You’ll be in good company, because Lila sucks.” Carm laughs.
I roll my eyes. “Just because you were put into ice dancing at the age of three onward.”
Aiden brightens. “Ice dancing?”
“Thanks, Lila,” Carm mutters.
“I’m pretty good at skating. Did some hockey growing up,” KC says. “Back when I didn’t care about objects hitting me at lightning speed.”
“KC, Carm, if you like getting some air under your skates, you’re a shoo-in for climbing,” Teddy says.
I’m focusing on tying my shoes, but my ears pick up the sound of his voice, at how it lilts with happiness.
“Ready to enter the rink?” Aiden asks, standing and holding out his hand to Carm.
Carm’s eyes flash with excitement, and I hope she doesn’t combust. She jumps up, and they both enter the rink.
KC and Sebastian hold hands. Both look confident on skates.
It’s only when they’re feet away into the rink that I realize what’s happened once more. Another couples situation.
My heart soars with mixed emotions. Last night, during karaoke, there was a sparkle of connection, and that small moment with Santa added to the electricity. But this is Teddy; the highs I’ve experienced with him are bookended with the unexpected.
I enter the rink. Seconds later, I realize that Teddy isn’t with me.
I spin. He’s at the rink entrance, gripping the railing. His face is a mask of fright.
Teddy, afraid? I glide, carefully, toward him.
“Okay, so it’s been longer than I realized,” he admits, voice shaking.
I offer my hand. “The good thing is that the distance from you to the ground is way shorter than when you’re on a boulder.”
“On boulders there are handholds, little cracks even. The ice is just slippery.”
“You can hang on to me.” I offer my second hand.
For a beat, Teddy hesitates, then reaches out, clutching one hand and prying his fingers from the wall.
“Breathe.” I inhale and exhale audibly. “Now, use your abs. I know you have them—I’ve seen them.” After the words leave my mouth, my face goes aflame. “I mean—”
But my flirtation faux pas relaxes him, and his hold on my hand eases. “Okay.”
“I’m going to move backward, and you’re going to skate toward me, okay?” I look up into his eyes. A hint of a smile graces his face.
I slide backward, and Teddy clomps toward me with heavy legs. “I suck at this,” he says.
“I mean…I won’t lie. I don’t think I’ve met anyone worse than me. But we can work on it.”
He nods, focused.
We continue with the pattern. Soon he’s sliding more than clomping. I let go of one hand and we skate side by side.
“We’re doing it.” The amazement is evident in his wide smile, and it’s so contagious, I can feel the cold wind against my teeth.
“You are! You’re a natural!” And while I know we aren’t going fast at all, in my imagination we’re ice dancers in a romantic but lively routine, bound not only by our grip, but our gazes too.
From my periphery comes a shadow. It’s another couple cutting in front of us, struggling to find purchase o
n the ice, causing Teddy to wobble.
I bear down on my skates to slow us down. His arms flail; I try to steady his torso. His hands land on my shoulders, and we tip.
“Whoa!” he yelps.
“Steady,” I command, more to myself than to him, and force my skates down against the ice. And after a few seconds, his thrashing calms, and he lets out a booming laugh.
We still as we both realize what has happened. We are clutching on to one another. Our faces are inches apart. So close that our breaths mingle.
“Oh my God. That was wild,” he says. His voice is low, and it rumbles through me, momentarily taking my breath away.
“I can’t believe we didn’t wipe out.”
“It’s because of you. I feel like all you do is try to help me.”
The statement is both vulnerable and sweet. It hits me right in the heart. “Are you admitting that I haven’t been nagging, but helping?”
He laughs. “I plead the Fifth…” His gaze drops to my lips, and in that short moment, a thought skitters through me. That it feels good to be this close. That maybe he’ll kiss me. “Lila—”
He’s interrupted by Ms. Velasco’s ringtone in my jacket pocket. It’s like the gong of the town square’s bell at midnight, and the high of the moment plummets.
“It’s your tita,” I say.
He frowns. “You should get it. It’s probably about work.”
I do, but it means I have to let go of Teddy. It’s like ripping off a Band-Aid. “Hello?”
“Lila?” Ms. Velasco’s voice is a screech of panic. “Are you with Teddy by chance? He mentioned ice-skating with you and your friends.”
“He’s here with me.”
“Good, then this will be one message for the both of you. Could the two of you come in when you can? We’ve got four who called in sick.”
I raise my chin to Teddy. “Four people called out at the Inn. Ms. Velasco needs us to cover.”
He nods.
“We’ll head in right away.”
“Oh thank God. I’ll see you soon.”
I hang up and clear my throat. Whatever was there between me and Teddy is gone; still, I brave a question. “What were you going to say before she called?”