by Leila Lucas
“Why are you making so much noise?” she huffs.
“Are you kidding me?” I look at her. “I’ve been calling your name out so many times in the last ten minutes and you didn’t hear any of it but you hear that tiny thump the secret door made?”
“There’s a secret door?” She moves over to the edge of the bed to look around the room. That could not be any more besides the point if it tried.
“Sorry, I’m a heavy sleeper when I’m really tired. I didn’t hear you call my name at all.”
I watch her crawl over to the middle post between the two top bunks and slide down the mini slide.
“Why on earth did you sleep in this room? There are so many other rooms to choose from and you sleep in the smallest bed.”
Chloe’s only response is a ‘duh’ look on her face as she points to the slide. Fair point. In hindsight I should have checked the bunk beds properly. Chloe is tiny, the beds are high, and all it took for her to be invisible was to sleep close to the wall.
I can’t help but put my arm around her as I guide her out of the room. In reality I really wanted to give her a full-blown hug and not let go because the thoughts running through my head are yet to vanish. “You really scared the shit out of me. I thought something happened to you.”
She leans her head on me as we slowly walk down the stairs. “Sorry. I should have left a note.”
“It’s okay. As long as nobody has kidnapped you or mauled you to death.”
She throws her head back and laughs.
“You thought bears took me?”
I don’t respond because it makes me sound stupid for making fun of her the entire time we had been here.
“Shut up.”
Chapter Eleven
DYLAN
“When are you going back to California for Christmas?” I ask.
“I’m not.”
“So what are you and Vikki doing then?”
“She’s working over the holidays, so she’ll be in New York until early January.”
“You can’t be alone on Christmas Day.”
“It’s the norm for me. I’m an only child. My mom was always on some extravagant overseas trip with her boyfriend of the month.” She says it like it’s normal for a child to be left alone over Christmas. I know my mom always went over the top, but those childhood memories are irreplaceable.
“And your dad?” I push her a little because I don’t know anything about her family.
“He’s not around.”
“That’s fucking depressing.” I admit.
She just nods.
* * *
D: Do you have a duffel bag?
C: Yes, why?
D: Pack warm clothes for a 3 day stay
C: Stay where?
D: I’ll pick you up at 5
C: Picking me up for what??
C: ??
C: DYLAN??
C: You’re such a pain!
My phone buzzes.
“You can’t just say you’ll pick someone up for unknown reasons and not respond,” she says angrily.
“You’re coming to spend Christmas with my family.” I hold my phone between my shoulder and cheek as I fold my T-shirts and put them in my bag.
“I can’t do that! I told you I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.” I hear her huff in frustration.
“I’m not worried about you. I want to spend Christmas with you.” Which is the half-truth. I want to spend every day with her, but nobody should be home alone on the holidays. “Just say yes, pack your bags, and be ready at five.”
“I really can’t, Dylan.”
“You really can, Chloe.” I mimic her tone. “Look, there will be so many aunts, uncles, cousins and their partners that nobody will think you’re an outsider. Anyway, I’m not taking no for an answer, so pack a bag and I’ll see you at five.” I hang up on her before she can say anything else.
My mom offers to host Christmas every year and nobody ever disputes that idea. And how can they say no? Mom is Christmas crazy and an amazing cook. Luckily their farm house is enormous because my mom has five sisters and my dad has eight siblings, all who have kids, and some even grandkids. Despite the fact that most of our cousins our age bring a different partner every year, she will have a little freak out when I tell her I’m bringing someone. A girl. A pretty girl.
I quickly dial my mom’s mobile.
“Is it okay if I bring someone?” I ask. Knowing she will get way too excited, I add, “She’s just a friend. That’s all.”
“Of course, honey, about time you bring a girl home.” I can hear the excitement in her voice.
Oh great.
“Just a friend, Mom. She has nowhere else to be. Can’t let her spend Christmas alone.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, to worry about your friend like that.” She chuckles.
“Thanks, Ma, I’ll see you later tonight! Love you.”
“I love you too, honey.”
“Why are you packing clothes?” Ben rummages through my bag, messing up the clothes I just spent fifteen minutes folding.
“Because we’re leaving in three hours.” I elbow him out of the way and finish packing.
“We have clothes over there. We never bring clothes.”
“I’m sick of wearing them,” I lie. We visit home quite a bit, so we have our own rooms and a wardrobe of basics over there. I think it’s Mom’s way of making sure we visit often by letting us have our own space.
A slow smile spreads across his face. “Chloe is coming, huh?”
“Yes, but that has nothing—”
“HA! I knew it.” He points at me.
“Knew what?” Jackson comes into the room holding a big bag from Noah’s. Patsy always gives us food to take home, but it never makes it that far. We manage to eat the entire supply of food before we even get halfway there.
“Dylan’s in love.” He takes the bag from Jackson’s hand and pulls out a cinnamon roll.
“Chloe?” Jackson takes the bag back and stuffs a croissant in his mouth. Looks like a second trip to Noah’s will be necessary if we want to eat in the car.
“I’m not in love,” I scold Ben. I think my thing for Chloe is really obvious when these two idiots notice. And considering Chloe is a million times smarter than them two put together, it means she definitely knows. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.
“Yeah, okay,” they say in unison.
“Jinx,” Ben yells out.
“That’s not fair. I had a croissant in my mouth.”
Ben punches him on the arm.
“Too bad.” Ben shrugs. Times like this their short attention span is a blessing.
I keep them busy by getting them to wrap the gifts we totally forgot to do. While they do that I grab my car keys and head off to buy Chloe something. I have learned that the only thing harder than buying a gift for a female is buying it for one you don’t know well enough. And even worse than that scenario? Having two hours to find something. My best bet was walking into Nordstrom. Good thing I did because the sales assistant could smell a lost male from a mile away and was in front of me within seconds. I told her I needed a gift for a female friend.
“She’s a writer and likes books… but she has all the books I think.”
“Anything else?” She taps her lip and looks around the store for ideas.
“She has shoes. A lot of shoes, but I don’t know her size, so that’s useless. Coffee. Glitter. Croissants.” I notice the blank look on her face, so I keep going until we finally find something she can help with. “She has a Kate Spade purse. And phone case. So I think she likes the Kate lady.” Normally I don’t notice what girls wear, but I notice everything about Chloe. And even if it wasn’t Chloe, it’s hard to miss a bright pink purse and glittery phone case.
“Perfect!” She claps and walks really fast around the corner, and I have to sprint to catch up with her. I follow her for what feels like forever until we get to a stationary area. There’s a lot o
f pink, gold, spots, hearts, stars… just a lot of… stuff. “I think you may be able to find something here.”
I look around and settle on two notebooks, gold pens, and definitely unnecessary paperclips that looked like bows. Why does anyone need paperclips in special shapes?
“Anything else?” She smiles. “We have Kate Spade accessories on the other side. Maybe you can find more there?” Judging by her encouragement she either wants me to spend more money or she’s hinting that I need to get more. Looking down at my stupid pens and books, I’m assuming it’s the latter. I nod in agreement and follow her. I end up finding a scarf that could almost double as a blanket and grab it without even checking the price. It’s perfect for Chloe. It’s big, warm, and wintery and I don’t really care how much it costs. I look over at the sales assistant and she nods at me with approval. Lamely I’m proud of myself, even though I didn’t really do anything. Without her help I probably would have just given her pens.
CHLOE
“Should we warn her?” Ben looks at Dylan with a mischievous smile.
“Warn me about what?” I look at Dylan.
“My mom loves Christmas.” He smirks at Ben.
“So? Who doesn’t love Christmas?” I shrug.
“No, you don’t understand. My mom loves Christmas.” He looks at me like I’m meant to be understanding what his point is.
“Like loves it more than us,” Ben adds.
“And the house… everything is Christmas themed. Even the toilet paper has little Santa heads on it.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“Ma, open the door, my matey Chloe is going to freeze to death out here. She’s Australian. She doesn’t understand winter. MA!” Ben yells. The door opens and a tall, white-haired man is standing right in front of us.
“Will you keep it down, son?” He frowns at Ben. “You’re going to wake up the entire neighborhood. I’m Roy, the embarrassed father of the loudest son known to mankind.” He shakes my hand and then takes my duffle bag. “Let’s get you inside, Chloe, before the angry neighbors come out and start throwing things.”
We follow him into the huge lounge area. First thing I notice is the strong scent of cinnamon and apples that fills the air.
But the inside of the house, as promised, is a picture-perfect Christmas setup. So far from the hallway all I can see is the lounge room and the stairs. Beige furniture surrounding a huge fireplace with four stockings hanging off it, enormous Christmas tree decked in fairy lights surrounded by a mountain of presents. All the cushions are Christmas themed, reindeer mugs sitting on the coffee table, Santa slippers stashed neatly on the side of the sofa, and a big wreath right above the fireplace. The place looks like a Pottery Barn catalogue, only multiplied by one hundred. And it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. My mom might have been a very generous Santa, but she didn’t like Christmas decor. She was never around during December, and when she was we usually only had those tiny lamp-sized trees.
“Ma goes all out with the house. I think she starts decorating in August just to get it done by December.”
“Oh, be quiet, Dylan!” A woman’s voice can be heard from around the corner. She’s a tiny woman, short dark hair, donning a green apron with white polka dots. “He’s exaggerating. I start in September.” She winks. “I’m Susan. You must be Chloe.” She comes in for a hug. As she pulls away from our hug I can see she has the same big smile as Dylan. “I’m just about done with the dishes and we’re heading off to bed. Most of the family is asleep or arriving tomorrow. I’m sure you kids are tired too.” She leans on Ben and he rests his arm around her shoulder. “But there’s plenty of food and drinks in the fridge, so help yourselves to anything.”
“Apart from the things with a giant DO NOT EAT label.” Roy looks at Susan with a guilty look on his face.
“Yes, those are either for tomorrow or Christmas Day. Your father learned that the hard way.”
“Uh-oh, what was your punishment, Dad?” Ben nudges him.
“Dishwashing duty on Christmas day.” He frowns at Susan.
“You should know better, dear. This isn’t your first Holt Christmas. Now, Dylan, you get yourself and Chloe settled in your bedroom,” she says.
“Wait, what? They’re allowed to sleep in the same room?” Ben whines.
“Oh, Ben, you kids aren’t teenagers anymore and Dylan will be sleeping on the floor anyway.” She pats him on the chest.
“Yeah, okay, sleeping on the floor,” Ben mumbles.
“Chloe, if these boys are giving you any trouble you just let me know,” Roy says.
We get to Dylan’s bedroom upstairs and it looks almost empty. Only a set of polaroids are stuck on the wall near his bare desk. They look to be taken at Christmas time, lots of younger kids in the photos wearing Christmas hats. I don’t know why I was so relieved that there weren’t any photos of any ex-girlfriends.
“Wow, this is very… minimalistic.” I look around at the bare walls.
“I know, never really spent much time in my room, except when I brought random girls here every night,” he says with a serious face.
“Ew, I’ll sleep on the floor then.” I pretend to be grossed out to cover up the sting of jealousy.
“Done it there too.” He nods toward the floor.
“You couldn’t have done it in every single spot on the floor.” I raise my eyebrow at him.
He shrugs. “She was a mover.”
I look around his room for another spot comfortable enough to sleep in. There’s really not much to choose from, but then I spot the window seat that is the most perfect reading spot I’ve ever seen. It’s covered with a very doughy looking base and has a small cushion sitting on either side. And I would have a perfect view of Dylan sleeping from here. Win!
“Okay, then I’ll sleep on the window seat.” I look at him and he just shakes his head.
“Really, there too?” I frown. Way to ruin a beautiful spot.
He starts laughing. “I’m kidding. We weren’t allowed to have girls over. So you’ll be the very first girl to spend the night in my bed.” He lifts an eyebrow.
“You’re not funny.” I slap him on the shoulder, slightly relieved that I don’t have to imagine Dylan in bed with another girl.
* * *
I’m grateful that Dylan’s room has an adjoining bathroom so I don’t have to walk past the master bedroom in my embarrassing pajamas. If Dylan had given me more than a few minutes to pack I would have run down to whatever store I could find and got something cuter to sleep in. A grown ass woman doesn’t wear snowman pajamas to impress a hot guy she’s spending the night with.
I get back in the room and almost step on Dylan, who’s on the floor doing something on his phone.
“You’re really sleeping on the floor?” I throw my clothes in my bag.
“Of course. What did you think, I’d invite you here as a guest and make you sleep next to me on my bed?” He laughs.
“No.” Yes. Okay, so maybe it would have been rude to make us share a bed considering we are fairly new at this friendship thing. And we have this weird flirting thing happening but sleeping in the same bed as Dylan wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. I tuck myself in his double bed, turn off the bedside lamp, and stare at the ceiling. Normally I read before bed, but I don’t want to keep the lamp on while Dylan is sleeping on the floor. So now it’s just awkward because I can’t see him and the only light coming into the room is from the street outside.
“I’m scared of turtles,” he says. I bite my bottom lip, trying not to laugh at his random comment. I know he’s trying to break the awkward silence.
“I don’t blame you. They’re vicious animals especially when you can’t outrun them.” I can hear him quietly chuckling.
“Are you teasing me, Jennings?”
“Never,” I say sarcastically.
“In third grade we had this wildlife guy come in with snakes, lizards, and evil turtles. I got picked to pat the turtle and it almost bit my finger off.
I could have bled to death in that classroom. And you should have seen its evil dark eyes. He so knew what he was doing.”
“I wasn’t aware of turtles biting hard. Glad you still have your finger, though.”
“Everyone thinks they’re cute because they’re so slow, but that’s just a cover-up,” he says with a serious tone. Imagining a guy like Dylan be scared of a harmless, slow animal isn’t easy to picture.
I smile up at the ceiling as the silence between us lingers for a while.
“I don’t like cheese.” I add to his random fact so this conversation doesn’t end.
“I have never been overseas,” he responds quickly.
“I hate California.” I don’t know if hate is a strong enough word.
“Why? Isn’t it similar to Australia? Beaches and sunshine?”
“I suppose. Just never felt like home.” The scenery and weather in California are both beautiful, but that was it. Maybe it’s because I was lacking friends and my mom wasn’t around much, but I don’t miss it a single bit. The short amount of time I’ve stayed in Nashville felt more like home than California ever did. Although, I could do without the freezing cold weather.
“I broke my leg in ninth grade and had to stay at home for most of the summer. I watched Gilmore Girls every day when Ben wasn’t home. He still doesn’t know. And you better keep it that way.”
“Wow.” I laugh. “Your secret is safe with me. I’ve never been drunk.”
“Not even in college?”
“Never.” I hate the idea of not being completely aware of the decisions I make. Maybe it’s the control freak in me or seeing girls wobble down the stairs at parties completely wasted. I always wondered if they remember what went on in those bedrooms with the random guys.
“Admirable.” He sounds impressed.
“Not too hard to do when you don’t know what you’re missing out on, I guess.”
“Well, you miss out on most of your memory from the previous night. And being face down in the toilet the next morning.”
