Dad leans over the hearth, building up the fire. It’s still dark beyond the windows, and we haven’t turned many lights on, so it’s dim in the living room. The stockings are hanging on the mantel, sharing holders because we have too many people and not enough hooks. Wrapped gifts line the underbelly of the tree and spread toward the sofa. It’s not overabundance, but again, we have a fair number of people here.
Mom and Dad gave all of us matching pajamas last night, including Gavin. How they found a red and black buffalo plaidonesie in his monstrous size is a complete mystery to me, but knowing he felt included was the cherry on top of the best Christmas Eve I’ve ever had. Without even knowing this man suffered from family drama, Mom swept in with her inclusive ways and probably healed a part of him she didn’t know needed healing.
And she’ll never even know.
Mom brings the Echo Dot into the living room and plugs it in. “What do you think? Bing Crosby or Classic Christmas?”
“Bing has my vote,” Dad says, his deep voice slow and steady.
“Bing it is.”
Footsteps on the staircase make me sit up, but I deflate again when Ruby appears with Poppy. “Good morning, everyone. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Ruby.”
She sits beside me on the couch and puts Poppy on the floor, who grabs hold of her knees and starts to cry. “Oh, enough of that, now. Father Christmas has come. You’ve nothing to be sad about.”
“Is Violet asleep?” I ask.
“Her and Hamish both. All that caroling wore them out.”
“Oliver too,” Mom says.
I pull my knees up and rest my chin on my flannel buffalo plaid.
“You know, when we planned this whole thing, and when Luna said she wanted to set you up with Gavin, I thought she was mad,” Ruby says. “Why find your sister a man who lives a nine-hour drive away?”
Hold on. Did I just hear her right?
“It’s better than a nine-hour flight,” Mom says.
Well, that’s suspicious. She doesn’t even seem bothered…or surprised. Come to think of it, they’re chatting like this set up is common knowledge. “You both knew about this?”
Ruby picks up Poppy and settles her on her lap. “About Gavin? Of course. Luna’s been hatching this plan since Easter.”
“Mom?”
She shrugs.
“Dad?!”
He leans back from the hearth and sighs, his hands resting on his thighs. “Maeve.”
“Okay, fine, so Luna and I spoke about it. But to give your sister credit, she didn’t want to introduce you and Gavin to each other if taking you away from California was going to break my heart.”
I stare at both women. “Did anyone think to ask me?”
They blink. “I thought you and Gavin hit it off, babe.”
“Yeah. We did. Which is the problem, Mom. Now I’m falling for this guy who lives on the other side of the world from me, and I’m stuck at UCLA. What easy solution is there here?”
“Honey,” she says, drawing out the word while her head tips to the side. “No one expects you to drop your life and move to Scotland. And no one expects him to move to LA. You’ve only known each other for a few weeks. Go home, keep talking to him. If something develops, you and Gavin will decide together what you want to do.”
“Luna had a feeling you two would hit it off. She set you up because of you and Gavin, not because of where he lives.” Ruby lays Poppy back on her knees and tickles her tummy, changing her tone to baby talk as she speaks. “We have another week, Callie. Just enjoy it.”
Gavin steps out of the stairwell and burns a fiery path into my eyes. My breath catches. How long was he standing there, and how much did he overhear from my crazy meddling family?
Not that any of that matters at present. The man is wearing a kilt, ladies. He has long white socks and a blue green plaid that hits his knees. His tan knit sweater is wool and his hair looks neatly styled. Despite my family playing with our lives like we’reBarbie dolls, he doesn’t look upset. He looks like he’s waiting for my reaction.
