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JILLIEN: That was so cheesy. Please stop.
MEG: The Lord Licker of Labia?
JILLIEN: Oh God. Ignoring you now.
MEG: Cool. Merry Clitmas!
JILLIEN: Ugh.
MEG: And a Happy New Hole!
JILLIEN: No. Just no.
I turn my phone off. She’s insane. She blurts everything out and is constantly tripping over her words or her feet. But I wouldn’t trade her for anything. He jumps back in the car and hands me a to-go cup. I sip slowly while he watches. It’s a Shirley Temple. I grin, knowing I don’t have to talk about what happened.
I sip my kiddie cocktail. I know exactly how to cheer myself up. I’m decking the hell out of his halls. And then get my halls decked before we go to dinner.
He drives toward the house. “Forget sad cheesesteaks. I need to borrow the car.”
His shoulders seize up and his voice gets super authoritative. “The car?”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. Your car.”
“I love my car very much.” He rubs the Mercedes’s steering wheel. “I know that you’ve flipped at least two vehicles. My crap car is at the Vineyard. How’s your driving these days?”
“In the city, fantastic.” I sit up straight.
“And outside the city?”
“I get distracted.”
“Then maybe, um, stay in the city.” He pulls over and I slide into the driver’s side. He kisses me. “Be careful.” I grin at him as he just looks at me.
“I promise I’ll pay attention.”
“Not why I’m looking at you.” His face softens. “It’s our first separation since you walked into my house.”
“You walked your Mom home.”
“Right, so we’re old hats at this.” He grins and I’m awash in sweet feelings. He speaks as if he’s much older than he is, almost like this delicious throwback to when we were kids. I like it. As much as the plaid. He buckles me in and then another quick kiss. I cannot fall for him. I can get carried away, but we have an expiration date. We’re done after New Year’s. There’s no way he’s feeling the same, so it’s better to push it down. But that fucking look in his eyes is killing me.
“I have things to do, I’ll walk. Let yourself in when you finish up whatever mischief you’ve got planned. I’ll be out until six doing all sorts of things. But I think that’s as long as I can go without being inside of you.”
I wink. “Deal.”
I pull out and almost hit a bell-ringing Santa. Whoops. I shrug and he covers his face with his hand.
22
LIAM
I’m stunned because I’m looking at a carnival of tackiness where my home used to be. There’s a lit archway tunnel that changes colors synced with Christmas music that’s somehow being broadcast from my house. There’s a large illuminated sleigh blocking part of the sidewalk, filled with a secular and non-secular crew. Mary, adult Jesus, a wise man, Santa, and a reindeer who is not Rudolph. They’re joined by Frosty, Winnie the Pooh, and for some reason, a glowing-eyed zombie wearing antlers with jingle bells at the end of them. My previously presentable home has been replaced with a cavalcade of kitsch. You can barely get to the front door. And if you’re on the sidewalk, you have to walk through the gaudy tunnel to get to the end of the block.
On my door is a giant boxwood wreath that’s actually quite beautiful with its enormous red bow. Then I touch the door and it begins to shake and say, “Ho, Ho, Ho!” I’m greeted by my favorite nutjob in a Santa hat, an elf apron, her shiny black heels, and a colossal grin. “Merry Christmas!”
She backs up a little into the hallway. I lunge at her, only to discover she’s wearing nothing but a red bra and green lacy panties that somehow jingle. We connect deeply. “I fucking missed you.”
Our tongues chase each other as I instantly get hard for this woman who is in full-on Jillybear mode. When I get done exploring her mouth, I drop my packages in the front closet and view the rest of my house.
