“Christmas,” she finally said out of nowhere.
I raised an eyebrow. “What about it?”
Her eyes sparkled. “It’s coming up! Are you a Christmas person? What are you going to do for it?”
“Oh, right.” It was less than two weeks away. “I’ll spend some time with my family, but it’s not a big deal for us. We don’t do a big gift exchange or anything.”
“So unenthusiastic!” She shook her head. “Christmas is the best time of the year, hands down.”
“I would’ve thought summer would be your favorite.”
“Nope. Christmas is worth every minute of cold.” She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. “At least, every minute leading up to it. After New Year’s, it’s a slow downslide into misery until the temperatures perk up again.”
“You have strong feelings about this.”
The waitress set our locally-brewed IPAs in front of each of us, and Ella took a gulp before responding. “Christmas is just amazing. My family does a Secret Santa, and we usually make something rather than buying a present, so we all get to be creative. Then we have a huge dinner, and all of us make our specialties – even my nine-year-old sister. I’m not a fantastic cook in general, but for Christmas and Christmas only, I make my famous cornbread and chorizo stuffing, and it’s always a hit.”
“Damn. Your family puts mine to shame.”
There was nothing wrong with my family. We got along, although I had a few older relatives who were more traditional and didn’t “agree” with every aspect of my “lifestyle,” or what I’d studied in school. For my parents’ sake, I could deal with their presence a few times a year.
A strange look darted across Ella’s face – was that guilt? “What do you think about Santa Claus?” she asked, skilfully changing the subject. “Beloved symbol of childhood, or consumerist icon?”
“Neither,” I said. “He’s a tool for parents to trick their kids into behaving well when they’re too young to know better.”
“Go on.”
I’d had this discussion with friends a few times over the years, and it seemed like my opinion was an unusual one. I cracked my knuckles, gearing up for the inevitable argument. My friends were always light-hearted when they objected to my thesis, but personally, I took it seriously.
“Kids believe whatever you tell them, right?” I asked. “They don’t have a choice. They don’t know anything about the world, so they count on the people around them to tell them the truth about what’s going on. They trust them.”
Ella blinked at me. “Right.”
“We laugh at kids for believing in Santa. We think it’s so cute that they fall for it. But why wouldn’t they? He’s right there in front of them, taking pictures with them at the mall. They see him with their own eyes! And how is it harder to believe an old man in a sleigh brings presents, than that drones from Amazon do? There’s all kinds of magic that actually exists in the world we live in. Electricity, computers, the Internet. How would little kids ever have the critical thinking skills to figure out this one thing is a lie?”
“Well – ” She tried to interject, but I wasn’t done.
“So, think about it,” I said. “Parents banded together to come up with this lie to trick vulnerable kids into believing Santa is real, and for what purpose? To make their own lives easier. They bribe the kids with the thought of presents, and if the kids are bad – a term which is defined by the parents – they’ll get coal instead. It’s straight-up bullying! And society completely accepts it. Encourages it, even.” I let out my breath in a huff and took a swig of beer, waving at Ella to indicate it was her turn to speak.
“You’re very passionate about this,” she said dryly. “I do agree you have a point about the lying. I don’t agree with lying in any context. On the other hand, parents aren’t the ones to blame. They didn’t create Santa. Corporations did. Coca-Cola came up with modern-day Santa in the 1930s.”
I grinned. “That’s a myth, actually. The Santa with the red suit and the white beard already existed before that, although I’ll grant you that Coke popularized him.”
As our debate went on, I reflected inwardly on how much fun I was having. Ella was an excellent conversational partner. First of all, she was adorable. I liked the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was interested in, and I definitely liked watching her delicate pink lips form her words. More importantly, she had a lot of opinions, and the knowledge to back them up.
Sam, on the other hand… I could just imagine how he would’ve stared dully at me during my rant. At the end, his contribution would’ve been something along the lines of, “Wow, you’re so smart.” Or he would’ve been frantically Googling under the table for something to say. God, I couldn’t believe I’d been interested in him romantically for more than a millisecond.
The nachos arrived, and we eagerly dug in as our discussion continued. When the food was gone and our beers were drained, there was no question about what to do next. We ordered another, and then one more after that.
We touched on children’s rights, the postmodern era, and the nature of reality, among other topics. Our conversation was flowing so well that I felt like she was an old friend. It was hard to believe this was only the third time we’d met, and the second time we’d properly spoken. I could already see that she was a kindred spirit – which was hard to find anywhere, and especially in this small town of ours. I could guess she was going to stay in my life for a while, either as a friend or – I hoped – as more than that.
“Oh my gosh, it’s getting late,” I said, looking at my watch. It was past eleven, and I hadn’t thought about the time since we got here.
“Do you have to get home?” she asked sympathetically.
“Like, do I have a curfew? No, I don’t think my roommate would give me one.” I laughed. “I’m not even tired. I just didn’t realize how late it was.”
“Well, I’m having a good time talking to you, and I don’t need to be anywhere, either.”
Hearing that made me smile. “There’s no reason to leave, then. You’re not hungry or anything?”
“Oh, I’m always hungry.”
We agreed to head to a pizza place a few blocks away. They were open late, and after a few drinks, the grease would be perfect to soak up the alcohol.
We settled up our bill. Despite her protests, I picked up the entire check. “You got my tea last time.”
“As if that evens things out!”
“It’s all right. You can get my pizza.” I was daring enough to run a finger down her arm. “And if that still doesn’t square us up, you can get my drinks next time.”
As we headed back outside, she piled on her clothes again – the coat, the hat, the scarf, the gloves. She looked like a bundle of rags – an adorable one.
“You’re okay to walk over?” I asked, swaying slightly from the beer. “We could call an Uber, if you want.”
“I think I can handle a five-minute walk,” she laughed. “But actually, there’s something I want to do first.”
My heart stuttered. “What’s that?”
She grabbed me by both shoulders, bringing me over to the side of the building, where no one could see us. “Something I’ve been wishing I could do since the moment I saw you.”
I licked my lips, warmth building inside my core. If she was talking about kissing me, I’d been wishing she’d do that for quite a while now, too. I brushed a strand of hair back from her face, enjoying the brush of my fingers against her skin. The cold had made her cheeks go rosy, making her look cuter than ever. “Why don’t you do it, then?”
Her lips turned upward, and she pulled me closer to her. I leaned closer, close enough to feel her breath on my lips. My heart raced as she stared into my eyes. Her face asked a question, and I only hoped she knew the answer was yes.
God, yes. She closed the distance between us, and my eyes fluttered shut as her lips landed softly on mine. Her arms linked around my neck, and mine laced around
her back. She deepened the kiss, and I shivered. My desire for her had been growing all evening, and now that she was kissing me, it thrummed to new heights. With our winter clothes separating us, I couldn’t feel her body heat, but the layers between us only made me crave her more.
This was really happening. I’d met a smart, sweet, sexy woman, and she liked me too. I’d been waiting for this to happen for what felt like a million years, and now Ella had appeared out of nowhere, like an angel out of heaven. I wished I could stay in this moment forever, my first kiss with my future girlfriend. Ella… Ella… Ella.
“So,” I breathed when she pulled away. “Pizza? Or…?”
She took my hand, wrapping my bare fingers in her gloved ones. “I think I might need to head home.”
I stared at her. “You mean, you want me to go home with you?” I would’ve thought my place would be a better option – but I had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t talking about me coming with her at all.
“I mean alone.”
“You’re not up for getting food?” I asked.
Slowly, she shook her head.
Why was she pulling this hot-and-cold act again? She’d been the one to kiss me, and now she was going to run away? What happened to at least getting pizza?
“Um… okay,” I said. “Text me, then?”
She looked at the ground. “Of course, Judi.”
Eleven – Ella
The day after my date with Judi, the library was quiet. Hardly anyone bothered me. This peacefulness would’ve been welcome on a normal day, but today it gave me the perfect environment to stew in my guilt.
I wished a drunk would come in and start yelling at the other patrons, or that one of the little kids in the picture book section would throw up all over the floor. Anything to make me stop thinking about how perfect Judi was, and how awful I’d been to her.
I moved through the stacks, mindlessly searching for books that had been requested for interlibrary loans. The date last night was one of the best I’d ever been on. Probably the best, when I put everything together – her gorgeous looks, her sparkling conversation, and that heart-melting kiss.
I should’ve been on cloud nine today. I’d found the girl of my dreams right here in my own town, and she was into me. She’d even suggested going home together! I could’ve been with her for real, if my conscience hadn’t gotten in the way. I couldn’t go through with it when I knew I’d been lying to her.
But what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t tell her I’d pretended to be Sam. But at some point, wouldn’t she figure it out for herself?
I never should’ve agreed to “help” Sam with this. What had I been thinking? A week or two off chores, in exchange for a lifetime of regret? I was such a fool.
Seeing the Dewey decimal code I’d been looking for, I grabbed the book and tossed it onto my cart, noticing the title for the first time. Ethics and Interpersonal Relationships. I pursed my lips. Maybe I should’ve given that one a read before I got myself into this mess.
When five o’clock came, I headed home. I was supposed to cook tonight, but I’d start later. I had a little time to work on my Christmas present for Mom, who I’d gotten for our Secret Santa. I was cross-stitching her a quote that she liked: “You never realize how weird you are until you have a kid who acts just like you,” with a woman and girl as stick figures.
I’d been working on it for months, and it was coming along at a snail’s pace. I was starting to stress a little about it. There were only eight days left to get it done.
I turned on a Luscious Karma album, cringing as I remembered talking about them with Judi. I was such a piece of shit! I picked up the needle and jabbed it through the fabric, then immediately cursed because I’d jabbed it straight into my finger.
I stuck my finger into my mouth, biting down to stop it from bleeding. I wasn’t sure if that was how it worked, but I didn’t mind – more than anything, I just wanted to make myself hurt.
The front door creaked open, and I shoved the cross-stitch under a couch cushion in case it was Mom. The reality was even worse. Sam breezed into the living room, brushing snow off his shoulders and all over the floor.
My stomach churned as I looked at him. I’d betrayed him last night, too. He’d die if he knew I’d kissed his crush. They weren’t dating, he didn’t have any claim on her – technically I hadn’t done anything wrong… but he wouldn’t see it that way, and I knew it.
“Oh my God, it’s only a little snow,” he said, seeing my expression. “It’ll melt.”
I pulled my cross-stitch back out and pretended to be completely absorbed in it. “It’s fine. Whatever.”
“Stop being like that. I’ll clean it! You’re better at guilt-tripping than Mom.” He left, giving me enough time to hate myself a little more before he returned with some paper towels.
He scrubbed at the wet spots on the floor while I stared blankly at my craftwork. Maybe he’d clean up and leave, maybe he wouldn’t ask anything about Judi. I could hope, anyway.
“How’d it go with Judi last night?” he asked, trying and failing to sound like the question was off-the-cuff. “What’d you two do?”
Fuck. I’d thought about this moment, tried to plan for it, but now that it was here, I was thrown off-balance nonetheless. “We had a few drinks,” I said, probably sounding just as phony to his ears. “Had a nice talk.”
“Yeah? See, I knew you two would get along!”
I nodded, my stomach sick. That’s the problem, don’t you see? We get along too well!
“What did you talk about?” he pressed.
“All kinds of things,” I said. “Life, the universe, Santa Claus…”
He took the cross-stitch out of my hands and set it aside, sitting on the floor in front of me. “Did you talk about me? That’s what I’m asking.”
“No,” I said. At least I could be honest about this part. “We didn’t.”
“You were out so late,” he said, heaving a sigh. “I thought you definitely would’ve gotten some intel out of her if you spent that much time with her.”
“What, were you waiting up for me?” I glared at him. “I told you, this wasn’t some kind of secret spy mission to get you laid. I went because I thought Judi could be a cool friend.”
“It’s not about getting laid. You know that.” He grabbed my knees, looking like the little boy I remembered he’d been not so long ago. “I like her so much, and I don’t even get to see her at work anymore! If you don’t figure out a way for me to get through to her, I might never see her again.”
“Sam, you told me she turned down your last suggestion for a date.” And she accepted mine the same day, I didn’t add. “When are you going to take no for an answer?”
“I already did. I know she rejected me… but she was interested at first. That means I could still get her back if I can impress her properly.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.” I pulled my legs out of his reach, tucking them under me on the couch. “She isn’t going to give me some magic passcode you can say and win her heart. If you’re not right for each other, you’re not right for each other! There are plenty of other girls out there – ones that’ll like you just as much as you like them.”
He sighed. “I know.”
For once, he didn’t follow that up with a reason that he should still keep trying. Maybe I was getting through to him, and he’d leave her alone. Then I could figure out how to tell him I’d succeeded where he’d failed.
“How’s the new job going, anyway?” I asked. “I didn’t get a chance to see you last night.” He hadn’t gotten home until after I left for my date with Judi.
“It’s okay,” he said. “My new boss took me out for lunch yesterday. We got spicy wings.”
I stared at him. “I mean the actual work, not the lunch you ate.”
“It seems okay.” He shrugged. “I don’t really know how to do half the things I’m supposed to be doing, but I’ll pick it up as I go along.”
&
nbsp; I frowned. “What kind of stuff?”
“Spreadsheets, software, invoices…” He shrugged. “Google was invented for a reason, Ella.”
“If you’re sure.” I picked up my cross-stitch again. I was dubious about his ability to pick all of that up on the fly, but from what I’d heard, confidence went a long way in an office setting. If he could bullshit his way through it, he might be okay. It wasn’t time for an intervention – yet.
He got up, then paused in the doorway. “Ella?”
“Yeah, I’m going to start cooking soon.”
“No, no.” He looked self-conscious. “I was just wondering… do you really think I lost my chance with Judi?”
He seemed so pathetic, there was no way I could tell him the truth. “You and Judi are very different,” I said carefully. “I think you might be more compatible with somebody else.”
“So she said something bad about me.” Panic took over his face.
“I told you, we didn’t talk about you.” I rubbed my temples. “Look, you have her number. Why don’t you talk to her yourself?”
“You know what?” he said. “Maybe I will.”
Twelve – Judi
I handed a bottle of mustard to Chelle. “Check this, please. Does it pass approval?”
She was pickier about her food than I was, and although most roommates might not have shared their food, we found it easier to buy things like condiments and spreads together. She always ended up picking pricey organic stuff I wouldn’t have paid for on my own, but it always ended up tasting better than the regular stuff, too.
“This has preservatives in it,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “All mustard should have is vinegar, mustard seed, and a couple of spices.”
“All right, I’ll let you find something to satisfy your gourmet palate. Somebody’s texting me.”
I dug my phone out of my purse, already hoping the message might be from Ella. I hadn’t heard from her since Monday night, which was far too long. I didn’t want to come on too strong, so I hadn’t texted her either, but I was pretty sure she knew I wanted to hear from her.
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