It can’t be. She never wanted to leave me at school or miss milestones. She loves me. If she’s gotten into this headset, maybe it’s her way of coping withherpain. Liesel could be right that just being open about how I feel might allow us to have conversations that help both of us be more authentic.
I don’t want to do this through text, though, and they won’t answer my calls, so I pull up a face messaging app.
I look at the image of me on my phone. I’m wearing a navy and red Firebirds hoodie, and my hair is a bit wild from being stuffed under a beanie for hours outside. I don’t look sad, but I don’t look happy, either. Ialwayslook happy when I send messages to my parents.
My finger hesitates over the record button. And keeps hesitating.
“What are you doing?” Liesel asks, coming up behind me.
I put the phone down on the counter and rub my face with my hands. “I don’t know. Trying to work up the nerve to send a message to my parents.”
Liesel sits on the stool next to me and puts her hand on mine. She runs her fingers lightly over my skin, but I shift my hand so our fingers are interlocking. As much as I love the feeling of her touch, I need something more solid. More grounding.
“They’re still not answering the phone?” she asks.
“No. And they don’t seem to care that I’m not there.”
“Of course they care,” she says. “Your mom is probably too upset to talk. She could be beating herself up.”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Or maybe she’s on that stupid headset.”
She spins in the stool so one of her knees is in between mine. “I’m sorry this is so hard. What can I do?”
The timer rings, and we both get up and cross around the island to take the nuts and bolts out of the oven and stir them. The Shreddies, Crispix, pretzels, peanuts, and Cheerios shift around, and the smells of garlic, butter, Worcestershire sauce, and a few other seasonings fill my nose. It smells delicious and like a nice change from all the chocolate and candy we’ve eaten today.
“Want to press record when I send the message?”
“Whatever you need,” she says. She puts both pans back in the oven and we return to the stools.
“Ready?” she asks. I nod.
The phone is propped on the counter facing me, and I watch Liesel’s finger hit the button. I automatically smile, but I see what Liesel means instantly: the smile is in my eyes, but I don’t look happy.
Not really.
Does my mom know that?
“Hey guys.” I sigh and drop the smile. “I miss you. I don’t know why you haven’t been answering today, and honestly, I’m bummed. We’ve never been apart on Christmas Eve. It feels wrong. And I’m sad about it.” I pull my eyes from the screen andlook at the kitchen without really taking anything in. “I’m having fun, though, and I feel kind of guilty about that. Kind of relieved, too.” Then I look up at Liesel, whose mouth is pulled to the side like she’s trying not to cry. “Want to meet my … is it too early to call you my girlfriend?” I ask. “I don’t want to date anyone but you.”
Her eyes pop. “Uh, neither do I.”
I feel the smile overtake my face, but I don’t look at the image of me on the screen. I watch Liesel, instead. Because she’s biting her lip like she’s trying to bite back her smile, and that only makes my grin widen. “Then it’s official.” I grab the phone and duck my head so it’s next to hers. “Mom, Dad, this is Liesel Fischer. Mygirlfriend. Bet you never thought you’d hear those words out of my mouth, huh? I guess some Christmas miracles really do come true.” She rolls her eyes with clear affection and then turns to face the screen.
“Hi Mr. and Mrs. Kellogg. I wish we could meet in person, but I promise my family will take good care of Coop until he can get home to you.”
“Don’t believe her. Her brothers and dad all tried to kill me.”
“It was light maiming,” she says, looking at me. “And you probably had it coming.”
“I definitely had it coming,” I say. She looks at me while I watch her face on the screen. “Oh, and Mom, the face tattoo was a stroke of genius. Liesel and I met in the airport, and she didn’t recognize me. Sheworks for the Firebirds.”
“That idea came from your mom?” Liesel throws her head back and laughs at the ceiling, and the view of her long neck makes me want to kiss it. But not on camera. “It was a Rudolph face tattoo! No one can look someone in the eye if they have a face tattoo. Brilliant idea, Mrs. Kellogg.”
“But it’s okay. Turns out Liese has had a crush on me for like ten years.”
She shakes her head, laughing. “He may be a brat, but you’ve raised a great guy,” Liesel says. “I hope you both have a Merry Christmas.”
I sigh as Liesel backs out of the screen, leaving me with my parents. Sort of. “I wish I could be there with you guys,” I say. But even as I say it, I know that’s not true. That’s not what I want to say. I look at my hands in my lap, and Liesel’s hand slips into mine. I look up at her, smile sadly, and then look at the screen. What I want to say isI wishyouwerehere.But I can’t say that. I won’t. I can be honest without being hurtful. “I wish we could be together on Christmas. Love you guys. Call me when you can.”
