by Nicole Falls
Noelle the First
Nicole Falls
Copyright © 2017 Nicole Falls
Cover art by Voldemort
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real locations, people, or events is coincidental, and unintentional.
I hated Christmas. It wasn’t always this way. Growing up, the winter holiday season was my favorite time of the year. Sweet, six-pound, eight-ounce baby Jesus and I shared a birthday, but my parents never did that whole thing where I only got one gift for two occasions. Nope! They made sure I felt extra special on the anniversary of my birth. Even the birth of my sister Ginger, born two weeks late and encroaching on the month of December being mine and mine alone, didn’t dampen my spirits when it came to celebrating the holiday season. Somewhere along the line, probably between when I got old enough to no longer believe in Santa and when it became increasingly clear that I wouldn’t have a family with children of my own to share the Christmas excitement with, my good cheer around this time of year waned. Sharing a birthday with a major Christian holiday often meant that folks were not available to hang out with me on my day. Hell, I received more Merry Christmas mass texts on December 25th than I did birthday greetings. You’d think with a name like Noelle and a birthday on Christmas it would be one that’s easily memorable, but year over year friends, associates, colleagues, even extended family forgot my birthday.
Despite my general Grinch-like disposition, I was currently in Christmas hell—my baby sis Juju talked me and our other sisters into some silly bar crawl in which we were expected to dress in our most festive gear as we hopped through twelve designated bars in search of clues on a scavenger hunt. I don’t know what genius that thought drunken folks would excel at scavenging while drinking, but here we were. My sisters Juju, Lolo, Gigi, and I were on a team competing against hordes of folks, determined to win. The only one of us who was truly excited to take part in these shenanigans was Juju. Gigi and Lolo reluctantly joined at the last minute after friends of Juju backed out. Despite being the eldest, since I was also the only single Holliday sister besides Juju, so I often got roped into—really, guilted into—tagging along on her shenanigans.
I looked over to see Gigi and Lolo huddled together looking like they were hatching an escape plan to hightail it out of here as soon as possible. I had to giggle to myself when I took in the attire that Juju provided for them. I had to giggle to myself when I took in the attire that Juju had provided for them. Something about seeing bougie ass Gigi in a poly-cotton blend crewneck styled like an ugly Christmas sweater that proclaimed “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid” was beyond hilarious. I have no idea where Juju managed to find these sweaters featuring quotes from our favorite childhood Christmas movies, but I was impressed by the leg work she put into making this a fun experience for us all today. So, for that alone, I was putting in the effort to act like I gave a damn about this blessed holiday.
I pulled out my phone and strolled over to where Gigi and Lolo stood scowling. Placing an arm around both of them, I pointed the phone to take a pic in selfie mode.
“Say cheese,” I exclaimed before snapping a quick shot.
“Do over!” Juju yelled out as she walked back to us with a large packet that I assumed held our wristbands, drink tickets and scavenger directions, “You know a picture of the Holliday sisters isn’t complete without the finest one in it.”
Juju’s crack finally brought Lolo and Gigi to life as they sparred with her about who the finest Holliday sister really was. Our parents had a super sick sense of humor and diligently planned for the birth of each of their children to coincide with their favorite holidays. I was first, then came Valora the Valentine, Ginger, and Juniper, who was supposed to be named Erica—short for America—since they were shooting for a Fourth of July due date. Juju, however, has marched to the beat of her own drum since birth and graced the world with her presence two weeks early—on June nineteenth. We quickly posed for another photo with the four of us before Juju got down to business informing us of the rules.
“Ok so boom, this scavenger hunt is going to test us in a few ways which is why I’m so thankful to y’all for agreeing to do this when my wack ass friends dropped out because now I have a chance to actually winning this!” Juju gushed.
All participants were given clues that would lead them through the twelve bars on the crawl successively, but in varying orders. Everyone would, however, end up at the same last bar. First team to make it to the final bar would be crowned the winner. I looked around at the crowd once again, just as confident in our victory as Juju seemed to be. Between my navigation skills, Lolo’s literal know-it-all-ness, Gigi’s insatiable need to win everything, and Juju’s unbridled enthusiasm, the Holliday sisters were a lock.
We were six bars in and Gigi had finally loosened up some. That might’ve had something to do with the mandatory shot of tequila that we all had to take in order to receive the clue to progress past bar three, which was actually a Mexican restaurant named Chuy’s. Ginger had never been much of a drinker, so all it took was one shot to get her going. We walked into O’Sullivan’s and found the Irish Santa as indicated. Instead of letting Juju retrieve the clues, as our super organized by anal Ginger system dictated, Gigi marched straight up to the guy in the Santa suit with a green beard, put on an Irish brogue, and demanded the clue. He laughed and handed it over to her, then leaned down and whispered something that made her blush before quickly recovering and maneuvering back to us.
“We gotta get outta here before I take that man up on his offer,” Gigi giggled.
“Absolutely not on my watch,” Juju crowed, “Mama said if he can’t use your comb, don’t bring him home.”
“I ain’t tryna bring nobody home, you know what I’m sayin’?” Gigi retorted.
“Ewwww, gross! Focus, Gigi,” Juju said, reaching for the envelope with the clue.
“Y’all sister is wildin’,” Lolo said on a giggle.
“I can’t with any of y’all right now,” I said, joining Lolo in her giggles, “Next bar with a drink challenge attached, we gotta make sure Ginger gracefully bows out. I won’t be held responsible for telling Josh that his wife left him for a barely attractive white man with a fake Irish accent.”
“I thought y’all wanted me to loosen up and have some fun?” Ginger shot back.
Almost in unison the rest of us replied, “We changed our minds!”
Gigi looked put out for exactly five seconds before we all collapsed in another round of giggles.
Despite our frequent disagreements, there was little time as precious as the time we spent altogether. It didn’t happen as often as it used to in the past, we sometimes went months without seeing each other in the flesh, so today was very necessary.
“Aight, for real, what’s the clue say, Juju?” Lolo asked.
“Come and knock on their door, he’ll be waiting for you,” Juju read.
“Ooh, I know where we’re going,” Lolo said, “It’s gotta be the Regal Beagle. It was named for that bar on Three’s Company and isn’t the owner named Jack? He’s gotta be the one that’ll be waiting for us…also a nod to the Three’s Company theme song.”
The rest of us looked at Lolo in amazement. She never ceased to wow us with her random ass trivia knowledge. She stayed pulling random ass facts outta nowhere on us.
“Damn, Encyclopedia Beige strikes again,” Juju crowed before we retraced our steps and headed over to the Regal Beagle, which was just a few blocks down from O’Sullivans.
“Shut up, Junie B.,” Lolo replied and they began
fussing back and forth.
I tuned them out as we walked the few blocks to the Regal Beagle, lost in my own thoughts. Another year nearly coming to a close and despite excelling in my professional life, I was nowhere near where I thought I would be in my personal life. I’d never admit it aloud to any of them, especially Ginger, but my baby sisters were living the lives I’d long dreamed would be my own.
Ginger was a stay at home mom, who made the ladies of Pinterest look like failures with her flair for design as well as her cooking expertise. I’d been trying to talk her into transitioning into a mommy blogger for years as she had the goods to make all of those other women step their cookies up. She was married to her high school sweetheart, Joshua, and they had two adorable little girls—Payton and Jordan. Both named by their father after his favorite sports heroes, my nieces were as well-behaved and intelligent as they were cute. Pay started reading at age three…and not that whole “my baby can read flashcard” style of rote memorization reading, but like baby girl was sounding out letters and building words. Her baby sis Jordan followed the mold and began reading at a young age. Now, at ages eight and six, both were heavily into STEM—having taken advantage of some local Black Girls Code workshops. Their little minds worked in fantastic ways and I was constantly amazed by their dopeness.
Lolo met her husband Francisco while climbing up the ladder to success as a world-renowned photographer. Francisco absolutely worshiped the ground Valora glided across to take breathtaking photos of landscapes and architecture that have been featured in magazines globally. Lolo had always been adamant about her career being her only focus, but Frankie swooped in and changed all of that. They had a whirlwind romance, with a short courtship that ended in happily ever after. Five years after she first brought him around, Lolo seemed to be just as smitten with Frankie as she was on day one.
Neither of them went seeking it out, but love looked good on my sisters. Juju had a line out the door of men who were just waiting to lock her down, but she refused to let that free spirit be reined in. I played the role of the older, unaffected by being unpartnered, easy breezy sister and I truly felt that way most of the time. But sometimes…when the nights were a little too cold or quiet, I let my mind turn over the what ifs—dredging up the memory of exes and almosts, wondering where exactly it was that I’d gone wrong and why I was destined to remain lonely. Ugh…how pathetic!
Juju, always in tune with my emotional state, noticed I was lingering behind and slowed her roll to latch onto my arm and rest her head on my shoulder as we strolled along. We’d always been the closest, despite the gap in our ages. It was almost like we had no choice since it seemed like Lolo and Gigi formed an alliance as the middle siblings and waged all-out war on Juju and me when we were all kids. Juju was my little baby, so I always stepped in when they were terrorizing her and as such, they worked to do shit they knew would ultimately get me in trouble since my parents always believed that as oldest I should be setting the example for the rest of them to fall in line. Never mind the fact that I had zero interest in leading Lolo and Gigi anywhere but away from me.
“You good, NoNo?” Juju asked.
I took half a beat to collect myself, refocus my thoughts so that they wouldn’t come out in my response.
“Yep, I’m good, Juju. How about you?”
“Never better. I’m glad Lolo and Gigi said yes to this. This is fun today. We needed this. A girl’s day out where everyone could just let their hair down and have some fun,” Juniper said wistfully.
Something about her tone brought forth a question in my mind, “Your friends didn’t cancel, did they, Ju?”
“Huhwhuh?”
That response told me everything I needed to know. Juniper was the worst liar and her tell ever since she was a kid was that “huhwhuh?” response when she was asked a direct question. It’s a wonder she didn’t get into more trouble as a kid as that word was a common refrain in the house during her high school years. I’d been out of the house for years by then, but my mother often called me to come and help her deal with all of the antics Juju got into because she was out of her league tryna keep one leg up on Juju and her capers.
I just smiled and let Juju lead me into the Regal Beagle. Her intentions were good. Since daddy passed and mama moved across the damn country, we only really came together as a foursome for the major holidays and Gigi’s girls’ birthdays. We’d even stopped our tradition of spending our birthdays with only each other for the first half of the day before moving onto whatever additional celebrations others in our lives had planned for us. Outside of our monthly skype conference call, it could be months between the times we laid eyes on each other in the flesh.
We won the scavenger hunt. In fact, we were the only fools who actually made it to all twelve bars and as we sat basking in the glory of our win, I looked over at my sisters and laughed. Gigi was slumped. There was another bar that required a shot be taken by all members of our team, with no exceptions being granted. Even though we made her pound a glass of water directly after doing the car bomb—brutal choice of shot on behalf of the organizers—she was still twisted. She’d managed to stay with it, for the most part, but sitting down, at the appropriately named last bar Kringle’s, was the proverbial camel’s straw. We’d called Josh to retrieve his wife, despite her protests before she passed out. He wound up coming to Kringle’s and just hanging out since somehow Frankie had also figured out where we were and crashed the party. I loved my brothers in law, so their presence was definitely no complaint on my part. I watched Josh absently stroke Gigi’s forehead as her head lolled on his shoulder and I couldn’t help but smile. At his touch, they made eye contact and then shared a smile. That was my cue to direct my gaze elsewhere to avoid witnessing a moment more intimate than I needed to be tuned into right now.
Wanting to shake off the sudden malaise that crept up outta nowhere, I decided to do a jukebox takeover. I’d heard enough Taylor Swift for the day and decided to switch it up a bit. I pulled out my phone, added some credits to my TouchTunes app, and loaded up a bunch of music that would instantly lift my mood. I curated a playlist filled with hip-hop and r&b hits that took over the radio waves when I was in high school. While I waited for my takeover to commence, I got up and walked over to the bar to get a new drink. I was anticipating being cotton mouthed after rapping and singing along to all of my favorites. I signaled the bartender, ordered a Ketel One and cranberry juice, and a glass of water.
The song that was playing faded out and the first of my selections floated through the bar. I immediately began bopping my head and swaying my hips to the beat as I turned my attention back to where my people were sitting to catch my sisters' eyes. The first song on the playlist, Jay Z’s “I Just Wanna Love U”, sent my table up, even rousing Gigi from her damn near catatonic state as she joined the rest of my siblings in rocking to that signature Neptunes beat over which Shawn Carter flowed so effortlessly. Lolo pointed in my direction, winked, and mouthed “thank you!” I blew a kiss in her direction and turned my attention back to the bar to wait for my drink.
The bar was moderately busy, but it looked like the bartender was finishing up my drink and finally bringing my way when a pair of hands enveloped my hips as a voice in my ear rapped, “what do you say, me, you, and your Chloe glasses, go somewhere private where we can discuss fashion…” I shoved out of the embrace, whirling around, ready to knock fire from whoever thought my rapping and dancing was invitation to hop into my personal space. Just as I fixed my mouth to cuss the—hella fine—dude behind me, a spark of recognition slowed my roll.
“No Z?!” I said, before launching myself at him, almost knocking him over.
“No Z! What the hell are you doing in town, boy?” Noelle said, launching herself forward to embrace me.
Noelle was still as fine as she was the first day that we moved in the house next door to the Holliday family in December 1998. When I stepped into Kringle's I saw her sisters first, but figured she couldn’t have been f
ar because rarely did the Holliday sisters not travel in packs. In fact, the first time I met them, they swarmed me with Noelle leading the pack.
I’d just finished helping my dad unload the last few boxes from the U-Haul when I saw four girls coming in the direction of our house. I’d seen glances of the littlest one peeking through their windows over the past few hours while my dad, Uncle Jamie, and I unloaded the moving truck.
“Hey, I’m NoNo and these are my sisters JuJu, Gigi, and Lolo. What’s your name?”
“Whassup, I’m Jay.”
“Well, we live right over there,” Noelle said, pointing to the house next door, “And my mama said instead of making Juju sit in the window and report to us what was going on over here like some creeps that we should come out and introduce ourselves, so…hi.”
She ended her little speech with a dimpled grin that immediately had me hooked on her. I later learned that we were the same age and would end up in many of the same classes for the rest of our junior high and high school years. We ran in different circles, Noelle fell in with the popular crowd and I with the nerds, but our friendship always remained tight. We only lost contact once we went off to college and I came home less frequently.
Pulling myself out of my fog of reminiscence, I steadied Noelle and me before answering her question, “What you mean? I live here now. Been back for a few months. Moved into the old crib since Steve and Diane spend more time at their house in Arizona than they do this one.”
“Shut up! Me and Juju still live in our old house!”
"Word? I figured y'all had moved outta there since I haven't seen any of the obnox...I mean wonderful Holliday magic gracing the outside of the house," I teased.
"Now you know Daddy was the one who kept all that mess up. It's not really me or Juju's thing," Noelle responded, breaking eye contact.
