“Merry Christmas to the four of us, huh?” Liam says.
I lean back against the couch. My shirt is still stuck to my body.
“Anyone with eyes can see that she cares for you, Roman,” my mom whispers.
I press the heel of my hand into my eye socket. “Mom, please. We are not going to talk about Noelle.”
Liam laughs. “The hell we are not. Even when you were with Tessa, you acted like an empty shell. Noelle anchors you, and you are too stubborn to admit it.”
My hands drop to my side. “Liam, please.”
“When I was a kid, I always wanted to be you. But this? The way you shut people out. The way you push people away who actually give a shit? That’s one part I never wanted to be.”
I blink, watching the white-boarded roof of the pool house.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Grow some balls and apologize.” Tillie’s voice cuts through the conversation.
She walks in wearing tan jeans, a red sweater, and boots, all the while chomping on an apple.
“It’s Christmas Day. If there’s any day you can get your girl back, it’s today,” Tillie says.
I sit up. “I don’t know where she is, and I hurt her so bad last night.”
My father holds my shoulder. “That’s why they call Christmas Day a day of miracles.”
“Uncle Cliff had me put her and her friend at The V,” Tillie replies. “Now, can we please go get your girl back and start celebrating Christmas? I am hungry.”
“Go get your girl, Roman. Your dad and I like her.” My mom comes and stands at my dad’s side.
“Move, you can’t look romantic being a wet hot mess,” Tillie states. “Why are you wet, anyway?”
I walk out of the pool house, hoping that she forgives me and praying for a Christmas miracle.
NOELLE
My phone is blaring. I should get up, but I don’t want to. Not right now.
I roll over in my bed; my eyes still feel blurry. My throat is dry, and my heart is broken. It’s Christmas Day, and I wake up to a broken heart and hurt.
The shrill of the phone sounds through the air. “Fine.” I roll to the side and grab it off the side table.
“Hello?” I murmur.
“What you mean ‘hello’? It’s Christmas morning; you still in bed? What the hell is this?” I hear my grandmother’s voice over the phone.
The sound of parang coming through the phone makes me want to cry. I miss home. I should have gone back.
I hear a tussle. “Mamé put the camera on.” I pull the phone away from my ear and see the pretty brown faces of my mom and grandmother.
“Why de hell you still in bed, child? You know what time it is?” My mom presses her nose closer to the phone.
“I will get up in a bit. I had a long night,” I reply. I see my aunty in the back raising a piece of foil off a bowl.
“Who is that?” My aunty asks as she dances into the kitchen with a glass in her hand.
“Nono on the phone,” my granny replies.
