Page 21 of Fake Christmas Date
She nods. “Cool."
"So, here it is – my feelings for you are real. I'm worried to tell you just how real, actually. As to how tonight’s going to go: we'll go inside and do a lap of the room. You're going to meet hundreds of people at once, and nobody will expect you to remember their names so don’t even try."
Finally, she smiles. "And then I get to taste this famous potato salad?"
"Yes. There will be lots of women who are going to want to know all about your baking and craft skills. I'm afraid you're just going to have to wing it there."
"Cookies and scrapbooking. I've got that covered."
"Perfect. At some point, Dad and Josh will call me over for our annual men's whiskey toast. Probably scotch. Dad picks something fancy every year."
Emma nods. "I'll be fine on my own for a while. Family traditions are important."
"After you've relaxed a bit and we're having a nice normal Christmas date, I'm going to tell you the legend surrounding this ball. Then I'm going to ask you to dance."
"What about…the other stuff?"
"The announcement? I’ll ask for your opinion on that while we dance. We can play it by ear." I flash her a grin that I hope puts her at ease. "Even though everyone dresses up for this event, it's not super formal. It's like a giant hangout with bowties and champagne. Okay?"
She nods firmly. "Okay. I'm ready."
She starts to open her door, but I call out, "Wait!"
I race around to her side of the Jeep to scoop her into my arms.
“I always want you to do whatever you like, baby. But I absolutely forbid you to walk in the snow in those little shoes."
"So overbearing," she laughs. "Controlling me like this when we haven't even been together very long."
“Oh, you wait until we've been together for six months. Then I'm going to start demanding crazy things like Sunday afternoons are for loafing, and we should have our dinner dates on Thursday instead of Friday because restaurants are less busy."
"Such a monster!" She laughs again. “Soon you’ll be reminding me to stop working late for a bunch of days in a row.”
Something in Emma’s eyes has shifted. Although I’m no expert in reading women, I think her mood has switched from nervous dread to…cautious excitement, maybe?
I just hope she’s still this excited when I have her out on the dance floor and explain the significance of dancing at this particular event.
Some say it's just a silly old superstition here in town. I happen to know that it’s completely true. My family is living proof of it.
15
EMMA
Wait until we’ve been together for six months.
Dylan’s words echo in my ears. He didn’t sayif. He was very clear.
My head is spinning.
The wild, hopeful energy carries me through the endless whirlwind of introductions, right up to the moment when Miriam drags me away for potato salad while “the menfolk” have their drink.
We sit at a table in the corner, Miriam sipping her white wine while I dig into a small bowl of the chunky potato mixture. The minute it hits my tongue my eyes unfocus and I stare at the floor in front of me, unseeing. The flavor is so huge and perfectly balanced that I never want to swallow it. I just want it to stay on my taste buds forever.
Miriam laughs, gesturing with her wine glass. "Amazing, right?"
I very reluctantly swallow my mouthful, then shake my head. "There aren't any words."
“Good. I'll tell Mrs. McKenzie, that will make her happy."
