Page 123 of Santa Has a Six-Pack
Me: But maybe there’s still hope for us?
Again, he responded immediately.
Matt: Abso-fucking-lutely, Pennywise.
With a huge smile on my face, I sent him one more message before shutting down my phone.
Me: Merry Christmas, Matt. I’ll call you when I’m back in the city.
“What?” I say to Banks, who is staring at me with a knowing look on her face.
Clearly, she caught me daydreaming.
“You were doing that dopey smile again.”
I lean my head back on the couch and sigh. “He’s just so damn sweet.”
“So get him back, woman!”
“I’m going to try, but?—”
“But what?”
Just then, the doorbell rings.
“Who’s that?” I ask. Banks assured me that this Christmas Eve would be spent one hundred percent vegging at her house with the kids and “waiting for Santa.” She’s not expecting any guests.
“Promise you won’t be mad.” My sister winces.
“Banks, what did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.” She holds her hands up in defense mode. “Someone just said they wanted to see you. So I told that someone it would be okay if they wanted to stop by for a few minutes.”
“Oh my god, is that someone Matt?”
Please let that someone be Matt.
“Here, why don’t you hand me the baby and go find out for yourself?” she says.
I hand over my sleeping niece, quickly finger comb my hair, and practically sprint to the front of the house.
I fling open the door, my heart pounding. “I’m so happy you’re here, I can hardly?—”
But it’s not Matt waiting for me on the other side.
“Hello, dear.”
It’s my mother.
A few minutes later, the Whitaker women are relaxing in the living room together, mostly in silence. Well, truth be told, the three of us are trying to relax, but there’s definite tension in the air because of how we left things at the holiday party.
My mother holds the baby while she sleeps. Maternal energy doesn’t exactly come naturally to her, but she smiles down at her granddaughter from time to time and seems to be enjoying that new baby magic as much as she’s able.
“How nice that you were able to come see Banks for the birth.” My mother breaks the silence. “I imagine Christmas Eve is a busy time at the store with people doing last-minute shopping?”
Did my mother just ask me a question about my job?
“It is, yeah,” I say, not hiding the surprise in my tone. “But I have a pretty amazing boss, and she understood how important this was to me, so she made it work.”
