Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
“What? Wow, Kay! You have a baby bush now?”
Proudly, she nodded. “I do. I mean, it’s just a landing strip—for, like, a small Cessna—two prop max, but he’s super into it. And honestly, I’m liking the break from the pain.”
I’d bet. “So when do I get to meet him?”
“I dunno. It’s all still new. Maybe give us a week or four months?”
Huh? “Kay, I have to meet him.”
She looked away.
“What?” I knew her, and this was a clear sign that she didn’t want to say something. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”
She groaned. “He’s a Buddhist.”
Buddhist? “And?”
“Well, he doesn’t celebrate Christmas, Meri.”
Holy crap. Was my best friend telling me that she didn’t think I’d get along with a person, her possible future person, because he wasn’t into Christmas?
“Kay, how can you say that? You know me. I mean, yes, I loooove Christmas, but I’m not going to shun the man of your dreams if he’s anti-Santa or not a Jesus groupie.” Like my parents. I mean, how many crucifixes did one house need? Last time I’d counted, they had eighty-three Jesuses on the cross pegged to the living room wall. Blue-eyed Jesus, bleeding Jesus, angelic Jesus, Black Jesus, and my personal favorite, Latin lover Jesus with the tan and amazing six-pack. They had every flavor imaginable.
“You sure about that?” Kay asked.
“Yes, I’m sure. Why?” I asked.
“Mike,” she said.
My latest ex? “What about him? He loved Christmas.”
“No. He liked Christmas. Like a normal person. But the moment he told you that he wanted to spend the holidays in Canada with his parents, who only celebrate with a simple family dinner, you started talking yourself out of being with him.”
“Not true. He dumped me because he said I was too uptight,” I argued.
“Exactly. You’re so obsessed with Christmas that you’ve literally forgotten the entire point.”
“Oh, shut up, Miss Bah Hum Booger. I get the point just fine.”
“And yet,” she said, “I’m terrified that you’ll try to talk me out of dating Lick. The moment you two meet, you’ll start gushing over your party plans, and you’ll brag about your decorations.”
“Hold on. Back up. His name is Lick? And he went down on you?” I bit the inside of my cheeks, trying not to laugh.
“See! This is why I didn’t want to introduce you,” she snapped. “And for the record, Leonardo is his real name. Lick is some family nickname.”
Did I want to know why? Yes, yes, I did. But that could wait. “So you were afraid I’d tease your new man, Lickasaurus?”
She gave me a hateful look. “I know you’ll tease him. And then scare him off with your psychotic relationship with the month of December.”
“I won’t deny my addiction, but I don’t see why that concerns him?”
“He won’t share your enthusiasm, and you’ll feel like it’s a slap. Then you’ll be calling him a hater.”
I gasped. “No, I won’t.”
“Meri, it’s time someone told you the truth.” She got down from her machine and stepped closer to me, lowering her voice. “It’s one thing to want to celebrate your special day, but you have to stop obsessing over Christmas. And before you accuse me of being a hater, let me clarify: Christmas is not about parties, decorations, or gifts, it’s about opening your heart to others. It’s a feeling, not a thing. And the only way to feel it is by giving from the heart. Not material things, but heart things. Actual kindness from the soul.”
“I’ve gone to five weddings and eight baby showers in twelve months.” Everyone I knew seemed to be getting married or starting families. “Do you have any idea how many gifts that is? All I do is give, give, give from the heart all year round.” Why was she saying such ugly crap to me? Hater.
“You are a generous person, but during the holidays, the merry Meri monster takes over. You try to mesmerize everyone with your elaborate decorations and wow them with the expense of it all. But if you really wanted to give, you’d do it without expecting anything in return, including validation.”
I felt like Kay had holiday punched me in the chimney chute. Sure, I liked receiving compliments about my masterful decorating skills, but I didn’t need validation. My deep love of Christmas was what drove me. And I couldn’t believe she didn’t want me to meet her non-Christmassy boyfriend.
“I swear to you,” I said, “if you introduce me to Lick, I won’t even mention the word Christmas, okay? Why don’t you guys come over for dinner after you get back from seeing your sister? I’ll make lasagna. He can eat that, right?”
She gave me a look.
“What? I don’t know if he’s, like, a super-vegetarian Buddhist or one of those holiday-only religious people like me.” My parents were super Catholics, but I pretty much phoned it in all year except for major holidays. Drove my mom crazy. But I figured that God made me church lazy, so he didn’t mind.