Page 56 of Holiday Love
I scramble for an answer and come up blank.Tell the truth.“I’m actually thinking of changing majors.”
He lets out a slow exhale, a subtle tightening around his lips. “You don’t have a clue what you want to do? Is that it?” His gaze flicks to Helen, who visibly shrinks, her shoulders hunching inward. That gesture, more than anything, lights something hot and red in my chest.
“Actually, I do.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“I want to join the Coast Guard,” I say firmly, with a confidence I don’t actually possess and yet something about it feelsright, like those words were meant to leave my mouth.
Helen’s head snaps up, and she openly gapes, so obvious that I slowly move my knee over to jostle against hers. Her dad catches her expression of surprise. He opens his mouth, and I brace myself for a series of questions I can’t answer.
“Let’s go downstairs,” Linda interrupts. “I loadedIt’s a Wonderful Lifeonto the TV. I thought we could all watch it together. We can come back up for dessert later. I’ve got pumpkin pie.”
Helen stands and stretches with her arms over her head. I’m careful not to look at how the gesture pulls her shirt tight across her chest. She sends me a laughing grin. “Thanksgiving dinner is over, which means Christmas is in full swing as far as my mom’s concerned.”
“What?” her mom protests. “I waited long enough!”
Helen mock-rolls her eyes. “Let’s be real, Mom. As far as you’re concerned, it’s been Christmas since November began.”
Linda turns to me, her eyes twinkling. “Back me up here, Teddy. The holiday seasonisthe best time of the year, right?”
Understanding my role, I nod immediately. “Absolutely.”
“So why not make it last as long as possible? I don’t see anything wrong with that.”
“Completely agree,” I say, backing her up again and earning a pleased smile from her.
“I grew up in Connecticut,” Linda says, her voice softening. “My most favorite thing was when it would snow on Christmas. There’s something magical about waking up, opening presents, then going outside to a blanket of white.”
She looks over at Helen with a wistful sigh. “One of my regrets is that Helen’s never had that experience. Even when she lived in New York, she always came home for Christmas.”
“Except last year,” Helen cuts in. “When I stayed to pack and for Gwen’s wedding.”
Her eyes fly to mine, and the air shifts. Her pupils dilate. Her breath catches.
She’s remembering. I know it.
The wedding. Dancing. My mouth on hers.
And just like that, so am I. The taste of her, the needy sounds she made when I moved inside her.
Seconds stretch, weighted and full, until it feels like the whole table has gone quiet, though I know it hasn’t. We’re both caught, suspended in a moment no one else can see.
I force myself to look away, lick my lips, focus on something safe. “Uh, it didn’t snow then. At Gwen’s wedding.”
“Right,” Helen says too quickly. Her eyes snap back to her parents, like she can slam the door shut on the past. “No white Christmas. Not that it mattered.” Her voice gentles into practiced warmth. “I’d rather be here with you and Dad than anywhere else.”
The words are meant for her parents, but they hit me like a physical blow. It shouldn’t bother me, how quickly she set the memory of us aside…but it does.
“I know, honey,” Linda says. “I love that, but I would’ve liked for you to have arealwinter for once. Snowball fights. Snow angels. That’s how it was for me.”
Linda sniffs, blinking quickly. She’s trying not to cry, and for a second I see just how fragile this all is. How hard it must be forallof them, trying to make the most of what time they have left.
Helen steps in gently, trying to lift the mood. “We do lots of fun things here in California, though. Like the boat parade in Newport Beach. You love that.”
I perk up. “No way! You go to the Newport Beach boat parade? My housemate has a boat, and we always go too.”
“You do?” Helen looks at me, surprised.
