Page 26 of Home to Christmas Island
For the first time in a long time, I feel excited about the holidays.
Alba and I suited up as best we could to sit outside for a few hours. We hoisted on two pairs of leggings each and I even put on a vest underneath my red coat. My hair is up in a high ponytail, so I borrowed a cream-coloured knitted headband from Rose to keep my ears warm. It looks adorable, if I do say so myself.
Rose has plans with her best friend, Becca, in town tonight, which means it’s only Alba and I at the parade. It’s nice to have some one-on-one time with my cousin. We scan the crowd, looking for people we know.
It doesn’t take long.
I think that’s Colin McKay, Alba says, pointing with her eyes towards a man in a baseball cap, pushing a stroller next to a woman whose face I can’t quite make out from here. We went to high school with him, but I don’t remember much else, other than he was sweet and pretty shy. He definitely wasn’t in the group daring me to climb up onto the roof of the shed.
Who’s the baby mama? I gesture to the woman beside him.
Remember Heather O’Sullivan?
Wait. Wasn’t she engaged to someone else? I ask abruptly, feeling stunned.
Yup. Dylan Richards, Alba says, munching on one of the candy canes that were handed out to the crowd a few minutes ago. But apparently she broke it off, and a week later, was with Colin. If the rumours are to be believed, after she got engaged to Dylan, Colin finally confessed his feelings for her. They’ve been friends for, like, a million years.
Some of this is vaguely coming back to me, and if memory serves me, they’ve known each other since kindergarten. I confirm this with Alba.
Wow, I say, looking at the family of three. They seem happy.
Dylan was always a prick, Alba says in between candy-cane bites, and there’s enough of a tone that I wonder if she’s thinking about Justin. Maybe I’m being paranoid, but I cringe inwardly anyway.
We have a few more of these conversations—reminiscing about people we’ve known our entire lives. It’s very small-town energy to be gossiping like this, but I feel sated somehow, like I can actually catch up on all the time I’ve missed. And it occurs to me that I really have missed being here.
The floats start coming by, many of them set up in truck beds. There’s a guy in a canoe that’s covered in more ribbons and bows than I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s outlined in lights and the whole thing is so stunning both Alba and I audibly gasp.
I wonder if we should do something like that for the B&B, she says. Maybe I’ll get Rose to decorate a canoe with some fresh flowers or something.
That would look amazing. I feel an ache of something close to regret. Alba has a life here; she’s making plans for the future and really settling in at home. For some reason, it makes me feel both happy and sad at the same time.
We see Jean from the post office, walking in the parade dressed up as a reindeer, her red nose shining brightly. She waves at us both and brings us each a chocolate bell, which we happily accept. Soon, we have a whole stash of candy, three glow sticks each, and Alba has somehow convinced an older gentleman to give her his elf ears, which she’s shoved on top of her hat.
It’s like I can feel his presence before I even lay eyes on him. But I spot him easily, towering beside a group of kids. He throws his head back and laughs at something one of them says. I’ve never seen Alistair laugh in a way that seems so unrestrained, and I have to stop the thought that zips through me: I want to make him laugh like that.
He must be working the parade, doing crowd control—or something, what do I know about policing? But he’s in his uniform tonight, matching hat, gloves, and all. He seems genuinely at ease; talking with everyone, not rushed or stressed. I watch him for a few minutes and Alba, thankfully, hasn’t seemed to notice him yet. A couple approaches Alistair to ask something that I can’t hear, and I see him pointing and giving them directions. He gets another group to move a little farther back from the street, I assume to get them safely out of the path of the floats coming down the road.
He starts to walk along the parade route again when suddenly his head snaps in my direction, like he caught sight of my red hair out of the corner of his eye. I try not to think about how this makes me feel like melted chocolate.
Before I realize what’s happening, my hand lifts in the air and I wave over at him. Alistair smiles, this huge, genuine grin that makes my stomach flip, and starts walking towards us. I can feel Alba gaping at me, her head swivelling back and forth between us.
I feel like my body has been possessed by someone else entirely, because I can feel my face smiling back at him. Why am I smiling at him?
Uh, what is happening? Alba asks me, under her breath, as Alistair gets closer.
I start to laugh, and I’m disturbed to find it sounds slightly hysterical. I have no idea, I say to her.
You waved at him.
I know, but I didn’t mean to.
But you’re smiling at him and he’s coming over here, she’s urgently whispering now, trying to get all the words out before he gets too close. Thankfully, the music from the parade and the cheers from the people beside us are making it hard for anyone to hear us.
I thought you two were friends, I say, glancing over at her, unsure of why she’d be so frenzied about me waving him over. What do you care if he comes over here? I never told her about what happened at the cemetery, but she was definitely watching us closely at the beach yesterday, and I can see her reading the expression on my face.
We are friends, but you’re not friends with him.
I could be his friend, if I wanted to, I try to smother the defiance in my voice, but the stubbornness comes barrelling through anyway. I shove down the memory of Alistair asking me exactly that, and I know all I’d have to do to be his friend is say yes.
