“Come on. Mom always makes pancakes on her birthday. I have to bring her the card I made her too.” I toss my controller down and Matty follows me.
Moms favourite Christmas song-a-longs blare through the house when I open my bedroom door.
I make a face at Matty.
“Sorry. She always does that.”
“I like it.” Matty shrugs.
I smile at him. He’s a good friend.
We walk down the stairs side by side until I see Mr. Tate through the archway of the kitchen.
I slap my hand against Matty’s chest before we are even halfway down.
“Ouch, what was that for?” He rubs his chest. I shush him with my finger over my mouth like our teacher Mrs. Whitmore does.
I pull him down to crouch behind the stair railing. We watch through the posts as Tate starts twirling my mom around the kitchen, her pretty hair spinning all around.
Matty leans over me to get a better look. His eyes are probably as wide as mine.
“I’ve never seen my dad dance like that before.” He whispers.
“Really?” I whisper too so they don’t hear us. “My mom dances all the time, but my dad never danced with her.”
I twist my lips to the side when an idea pops up in my mind. I grab Matty and drag him back upstairs.
Pancakes can wait; this is more important.
I close my bedroom door behind us and continue dragging him into the fort. I tighten our blanket door shut so they can’t hear us outside.
“Matty. I think your dad likes my mom.”
“I think your mom likes my dad too.” Matty nods along like a bobble head.
“They like-like each other.” I say trying to make him understand my idea. “You know what that means?”
“Yeah, he’s probably gonna ask her if he can hug her.”
“If our parents like- like each other then we can get them to fall in love! Then they will get married and we can be brothers!” I whisper-yell at him. We both are the only child and it’s boring. “Plus, you always say you wish you had a mom like mine. And I like your dad better than mine.”
“Okay. We need to plan.”
We are trying to figure out what kind of things grownups even like to do together on dates when the doorbell rings three fast times.
“Oh, that’s Uncle Ronan’s signal. He always rings it three times, so I know it’s him.” We race downstairs together. Mom pulls the door shut but not before I see Dad standing on the step behind her.
“We need a plan. Quick.”
Chapter 10- Allison
I hear occasional laughter and lots of loud footsteps signalling the boys are awake and will probably be ready for breakfast soon.
The team plane landed late last night or rather early this morning, so I expected Tate to sleep in this morning.
Today's the day before Christmas Eve and the annual team dinner. I giggle to myself imagining Tate's reaction to the explosion of Christmas in his house just in time for the party. There's also already an assortment of alcohol, games and small appetizers ready so all he has to do is barbecue. I'm not actually sure how long all that takes.
I turn up the Christmas music on the kitchen speakers.Santa tell meby Ariana grande comes through and suddenly my body is not my own. I truly cannot help but sing and dance like I'm her on stage in some thigh highs and a ponytail. Though I'm not as petite as her, I bet I could still rock the outfits.
