Page 35 of Holidating
He gives a startled chuckle.
“Way to upstage me, Dad,” Weston jokes.
“Well, Abbi,” his father says. “I gave one of these to my daughter the year she graduated from college. She needed an upgrade from her book bag, to look more professional. And I thought you could use one, too. Especially…” He clears his throat. “If you don’t have a parent handy who can give you one.”
“Oh,” I say, looking up suddenly. And he’s watching me with a father’s compassion in his eyes. “Thank you,” I say, but I choke on the words. It’s such a generous thing to do, and for such a lovely reason. And—oh shit. Tears have sprung into my eyes.
I look back down at this gorgeous piece of craftsmanship and try to hold it together. But my next breath comes out as a sob. Because it’s Christmas. And I’m graduating this spring. And my mom won’t be there to congratulate me at all.
“Oh nooo!” Weston croons. He drops an arm around my shoulders, and this time he manages to pull me into a hug without violence. “You broke my girlfriend onChristmas. Quick! Someone put on a funny movie.”
I laugh and cry at the same time, and Weston pats my back.
“Th-thank you,” I stammer at Mr. Griggs when I’m able. “It’s just gorgeous.”
“You’re welcome,” he says, looking a little uncomfortable at the mess he’s created of me. He gets up to find a box of tissues, which I need, badly.
And then Stevie puts onHome Alone 2, and we all watch it.
Somehow, I end the evening smiling.
CHAPTER 12
DID SHE JUST MOAN MY NAME?
WESTON
I look around the living room as the movie winds down. We’ve all had cake, and we’re half-dozing in front of the TV.
It’s hard to believe, but Dad saved Christmas just before the buzzer. It’s not that I really needed the Christmas Eve waffles or the cake shaped like a log. I’m a big boy. But it’s nice to see him trying to find joy again.
Abbi gets the assist, too. She kicked Dad’s ass last night and it made all the difference. He’s a new man today. A very contrite one.
My fake girlfriend is quiet now, tucked up beside me on the couch, near enough that I can smell her shampoo. She’s smiling, too. Whenever Macaulay Culkin pulls off another feat, she laughs.
I already knew Abbi was resilient. I knew she was alone in the world. But I didn’t really understand how that must feel until I watched her lose it over a gift from my dad.
It’s humbling to think about how easy I’ve really had it. Sure, my parents had an ugly divorce. But even that drama will be old news eventually.
My gaze wanders over to my father, who’s yawning as the credits roll. “I’m going to bed, boys. And Abbi. Happy Christmas.”
“Happy Christmas, Dad. Thanks for everything tonight.”
My brother and Abbi chime in with the same, and Dad justshrugs. “My pleasure. Sleep well. Sleep late. We’ll have brunch before you guys shove off to Burlington,” he says to me.
After he goes, my brother puts on another movie. And then he nods off.
I poke Abbi’s knee gently to get her attention. And then I point at Steve, who looks particularly stupid with his mouth hanging open.
Abbi squints at him. And then she leans in so close to me that I feel her silky hair tickle my ear. “He’s faking,” she barely whispers.
What? I glance toward Stevie again, but I can’t really tell.
“Why?” I mouth.
“To spy on us,” she whispers.
I chuckle, because that is definitely something Stevie would do. Well, I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. “Stevie,” I bark.
