Page 121 of Meddling Under the Mistletoe
“I couldn’t possibly eatanother bite,” Aunt Rose says, popping one last piece of bacon into her mouth.
Mom snorts and raises an brow at her.
“What?” Aunt Rose garbles. “It’s a palate cleanser.”
I pat my stomach. “Thinking I should have requested some Tums.”
“I’ve definitely got some of those,” Mom says with a laugh.
The house is a disaster, but I can’t recall a single moment in the last five years when our family has been more relaxed and happier.
“What would y’all like to do next?” Mom asks.
Lucy’s brows pinch together as she chances a confused glance in my direction.
Ben scratches the side of his head. “You normally want to watch home movies all day.”
Mom raises her shoulders and drops them. “I think we’ve seen those enough, but I’ll be happy to grab them, if that’s what you want.”
“No,” we answer together, perhaps a little too quickly.
Mom laughs. “That’s what I thought.”
“What if we went to the actual movies today?” Ben asks, snapping his fingers.
“Hmm, yes. That’s an idea.” Mom purses her lips and adjusts her glasses on her nose. “I like it. But on one condition.”
Ben pouts. “What’s the condition?”
“We go get Chinese for dinner afterward,” she answers with a sly grin.
“Who are you and what have you done with my sister?” Aunt Rose squints. “Myra Jean, are you in there? Blink twice if you need help.”
“Seriously,” I say. “Are you sure you’re okay with all this?”
Mom nods and reaches across the table for my hand, giving it a squeeze. “I haven’t been this excited about Christmas in…well, a long time.”
As it happens, neither have I. It’s almost enough to take my mind off how much I miss Oliver.
“I, for one, think this is awesome,” Lucy says.
“I’ll go start cleaning the kitchen,” Ellie offers, but Mom holds out a hand to stop her.
“You most certainly will not,” she says. “There will be no cleaning done today. We have a much more pressing issue at hand.”
“What’s that?” Willow asks.
“We have to go to Noah and Emily’s house to see what Santa brought them,” Mom says.
“Well, come on!” Noah jumps up with a squeal. “What are we waiting for?”
Everyone rises from the table with Noah and Emily leading the charge.
I lag behind and pull my phone from the pocket of my pajama pants, hoping I’ve somehow managed to miss a text from Oliver. If he responded to my message from before, maybe that would mean the door to our relationship could be reopened.
My heart drops when I hit the button to light up the screen. There are no missed calls or texts, and the last message I sent him was still left onread.
There’s no indication Oliver has thought of me at all.
