Page 7 of Mr. Merry Ex-Mas
I roll my eyes. “Just because you're pregnant and can’t drink doesn’t mean I have to drink for two now.”
My sister throws a small couch pillow at me from her seat on my oversized chaise. My living room is dim except for the bright white lights on my tree. The cinnamon plug-in fills the room, and though I’ll swear it's my favorite Christmas scent, it’s really because it reminds me of Danny. I left the auditorium today on shaky legs. We spent nearly another hour decorating, but in silence. It was awkward, and Danny’s lack of comments made it worse.
“Have one of those extra-sweet, more whipped cream than coffee caramel frappes you like.”
I look at her over my laptop. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’ve been Danny’d.”
I laugh despite myself. Even though his lack of rule following and organization drove me crazy, his charm and fun-loving attitude made up for it. His behavior is definitely a way of life. “I love how we use his name like a verb.”
She shrugs. “It’s true. Danny is quite an action word, in your world anyway.”
“In everyone’s world.” I sigh. “It was so weird today. I mean, for all the times we’ve had to be around each other in the last year, today was the worst.”
“What happened?”
I shake my head. “I don't know. I’m used to his side comments and innuendos. But after some bickering today, it stopped, and he didn’t say a word. The silence was awful.” And it took me right back to when we broke up. I knew it was over when he stopped fighting with me.
“That's because you still like him.”
“Why does everyone think that?”
“Because every time someone says his name, your whole face does that thing.” She twirls her pointer finger in the air at me.
I blink. “What thing?”
“That thing where you try to straighten your eyebrows, but it looks like you’ve had bad Botox and your mouth is halfway to a smirk, but your nostrils are flaring like you just smelled cinnamon and sex at the same time.”
“That’s,” I furrow my brows, “actually disturbingly accurate.”
We giggle together, and my sister continues with her pro-Danny conversation. “I know you. And I know yousaidyou didn’t like how wild he was, but I also know you really liked that wild side. You could use a little shake-up now and then.”
“He doesn’t just shake things up, though. He comes in like a bulldozer, destroying things. He’s always late. He hums all the time. I don't think he even knows he’s doing it. He yells at the TV. And he thinks ‘winging it’ is a personality trait.”
“Hey! There is nothing wrong with yelling at the TV.”
I shake my head. “You’re just as bad as he is. All wild child and willy-nilly with each day.”
“You’re welcome.”
I give her a dry look. “For what?”
“For already breaking you in for the love of your life!”
“He’s not the love of my life!”
“And yet, here we are arguing about him. You’re getting worked up already, and he’s not even here!” She smirks. “Don’t think I didn't notice you scrunching your hair a little extra curly and wearing those jeans that make your ass look incredible. The oneshecalled your ‘Grease jeans’.”
With my eyes wide, I yell, “He told you that?”
My sister gives me a sly grin. “Nope. You just confirmed it. Thank you very much.”
“You’re the worst.”
“And yet, I’m right.”
I shake my head and huff a laugh. “He used to say that movie was about my life.Sandywas the good girl with the clipboard and sweaters, butSadiewas the one fighting to be seen.” I point at her. “With my curly hair and painted-on jeans.”
