Page 22 of Mistletoe Misses
Kendall:You sound like a neanderthal. Translation: Are you attending the Sunday dinner, and if so, are you okay?
Me:I’m fine.
Aaron:Don’t believe you.
Kendall:Can I give you some advice?
Aaron:Good Lord.
Me:If you say talk to Carmen, I’m turning off my phone.
Kendall:Definitely not. I was thinking you should let her come to you if she has the balls to do it. If not, you know you dodged a bullet and she’s not worth the head space you give her. If she does, you can decide if you’re ready. If you’re not, tell her you need more time. If she cares for you at all, she’ll give it happily, and you’ll have another answer without having to ask.
Aaron:Damn, that’s a lot of ifs.
Kendall:Zip it, A.
Cooper:Great advice.
Aaron:Coop! Bout time you showed up.
Cooper:Been a little busy defending the country and shit.
Kendall: You’re the best!
Cooper:Thanks, Ken.
Cooper:Do what you want, Madds. You don’t owe her anything.
Me:Part of me is curious what she’ll say. The other wants to keep running in the opposite direction.
Cooper:You can’t do both. Want my advice?
Me:I thought you said do what I want.
Cooper:Gut reaction. Got better advice.
Me:What is it?
Cooper:There’s nothing she can say to change what she did, but only you can change how you live with it. You haven’t been doing a very good job of that, and we all know you’re miserable.
Aaron:Damn, that was way better than whatever Ken said. I’m still processing it …
Kendall:Shut up. You can do this, Maddox. We love you.
???
I’ve never seen this many people in the house before. The living room, kitchen, dining room, and sunroom are full of blood and found family. Long-time neighbors I’m just now meeting, aunts and uncles I haven’t seen since the funeral, and kids of all ages, running in and out to get food or to play.
Carmen hasn’t arrived yet, and I’m not sure how to feel about that. Maybe she decided against attending, knowing I’d be here, or maybe she’s simply running late.
A couple from down the street, turn from me to their fussy toddler, and that’s when I see Sadie enter the living room.Curious, since Mom hadn’t mentioned her coming, I cross to her.
“Hi, Queenie,” I greet, making her giggle.
“Sweetie!”
I laugh at the sarcastic, rhyming nickname and revel at her cleverness. “What are you doing here?”
