Page 25 of Holidating
“At my own sister’s party? Please. Who’s going to card me? Not Uncle Jerry. He gave me a beer for my twelfth birthday.”
“I can be the driver,” Abbi volunteers. “I don’t mind.”
“No,” I say quickly. “You spend enough nights watching other people have fun.”
“How’s that?” Stevie asks.
“I’m a waitress at the hockey bar,” Abbi explains. Then she slips her arm around my waist. “That’s where we met. I memorized his order.”
“That’s so romantic,” Stevie says with a smirk and an eye roll. He’s not buying what Abbi has to sell. But it’s not Abbi’s fault. She has no idea how down on love we’ve all been these past couple of years.
In fact, last Christmas, after my parents had a shouting match on the steps of the churchduringthe holiday service, my brother and I literally sat around asking each other questions like:Would you rather get married or have all of your fingers chewed off by a rabid dingo?
And we both picked the dingo.
“All right, guys,” my father says, entering the mud room. “Let’s get this shit show over with.”
“Dad,” I say, stopping him as he grabs his jacket. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
Abbi slips out the door then, and Stevie does the same.
“What?” my dad bellows. “We’ll be late.”
I let out a sigh. “What if you didn’t go? You clearly don’t want to. Lauren isn’t throwing a ‘shit show’ on purpose, you know.”
“She’s not throwing this thing at all,” he grumbles. “It was your mother’s dumb idea.”
“So you think Lauren should just cancel her party? Or, wait, cancel her whole wedding so that you don’t have to feel uncomfortable?”
“Did Isaythat?” he carps. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
Now he’s glaring at me. All I wanted him to do was check his attitude.
Shit.
“Okay, let’s go,” I say as lightly as I can. Then I hustle outside because Abbi is in the cold waiting for us. And she deserves better.
The party is held at the Norwich Inn, which is a turn-of-the-prior-century farmhouse-style hotel on the main drag of a classy town across the river from Hanover, New Hampshire. When we arrive, I watch Abbi take in the crackling fire and the two dozen people milling about eating party food and sipping cocktails while Christmas music plays over the sound system.
It’s objectively a nice party. And I thaw a little when my sister flounces over with a happy smile and offers her hand to Abbi. “So you’re Weston’s date for Christmas! I’ve been dying to meet the woman who would voluntarily put up with him over the holidays.”
“I’m getting that a lot,” Abbi says cheerfully. “Congratulations on your engagement.”
“Thank you!” My sister’s eyes dance. “Let’s get you both a drink. There’s, um, a special one named after me. But we also have beer, wine, and soda. And lots of food.”
“Don’t worry about us,” I tell my sister, folding her into a hug. “Just enjoy your party while it’s going smoothly.”
“Don’t jinx me.” She sneaks a nervous look toward my father, who has planted himself at the precise opposite end of the room as his brother. Dad is standing there, hands jammed in his pockets, looking vexed. “I was kind of hoping he’d sit this out if it made him so uncomfortable.”
“He’s stubborn,” I whisper.
“I noticed.”
“Don’t worry about him,” I say, squeezing my sister’s arm. “Abbi and I will corner him and tell him bad jokes until he gets bored enough to leave.”
“I knew I could count on you.” Lauren sneaks another look toward Dad. “I just wish I didn’t have to.”
Abbi and I get some food, and I bring a plate to Dad. I also bring him a beer.
