Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
“Mom, stop. I’m okay.” I swat away her hand as she tries to fluff my pillow for the sixth time. I’m propped in my bed with more pillows surrounding me than I could ever need, two bottles of water, snacks, three paperbacks I haven’t started, and my TV remote. It’s slightly overwhelming.
From my side, Pebbles yawns, overly dramatic and loud.
“I know you’re okay, Gennie. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable while you’re left here all alone. You gave us quite a scare.”
“It’s just a mild concussion, Mom. I promise I’ll survive it. In fact, I’ll be back up and functioning within the next couple of hours, if you would just stop fussing over me and let me take a nap!” To appease her, I take a swig of water from one of the bottles.
“Never! I’m your mother. I’ll fuss over you until the day I die.” She pulls the blanket further up my chest.
Glancing at my phone, a new message from Lincoln pops up, sending a rush of excitement through me. He’s fussing over me just as much as my mother is, although his level of concern is a bit more shocking, considering the disinterest he’s shown since…well, since we met.
“Is that handsome doctor checking on you again?” my mom asks inquisitively, pushing her hands underneath my sides to tuck the blanket.
The warmth of a blush stains my cheeks. “Yeah. I’m sure he just wants to know how my headache is.”
Throbbing, but not as much as the place between my thighs whenever I think about the tension between us when he tucked my hair behind my ear yesterday.
Swiping my thumb across the screen, I peek at his message.
Can I bring you dinner tonight? We should talk.
“So listen,” my mom interrupts my internal monologue reading his message for the third time. “Since you’re not in any condition to be driving today, your father and I thought we could bring the Christmas celebration to you. Would you be up for that?”
Dropping my phone into my lap, I return my attention back to her. When she leaves, I’ll respond to him. “My kitchen is far too tiny for you to be cooking a full spread in, Mom.”
“Nonsense. All I need is a counter, a stovetop, and an oven, and I can make do.”
I can’t avoid matching her smile. “It’ll be tight, but I’d love nothing more.”
Peeking down at my phone again, I glance at Lincoln’s message. Can I bring you dinner tonight?
For a split second, my mind and my heart are at war. “Yeah, Mom. Let’s have it here.”
Leaning down, she presses a kiss against my forehead. “Yay! I was hoping you’d say that. Get some rest, and we will be back in a few hours. Do I need to do anything for Pebbles before I leave?”
“Would you mind putting two scoops of food in her bowl? Her breakfast is already later than normal, and I’m surprised she’s not gnawing at my hands like a starving beast.” With a giggle, I roll my eyes and ruffle the fur between her ears.
“Of course I’ll feed my granddog!” Mom’s eyes roam over the nightstand and my bed, taking silent inventory of everything she’s brought to me, ensuring I won’t have to get up while she’s gone.
“Go.” I shoo my hands in her direction. “I’ll be fine! I promise it’s just a concussion, and I’m feeling better already.”
“Okay. I love you.” Her fingers tighten around mine affectionately.
“Love you too, Mom.”
A few minutes later, the click of my front door lets me know she’s gone. Sinking against my pillow, my eyes fall shut as the whirlwind of the last two days replays through my mind.
An exhausted laugh of disbelief slips past my lips. I can’t believe I fell off a ladder and gave myself a concussion on Christmas.
And in an unexpected turn of events, Lincoln… has feelings for me?
Speaking of which, I need to respond to him.
I can’t tonight.
My family is coming over to celebrate Christmas.
Tomorrow then.
Tomorrow is the holiday party.
You can’t possibly tell me you’re still planning on going to that.
Of course I am.
You have a concussion.
I know. People don’t need to keep reminding me! I’m fine.
Do you need anything?
No, but thank you.
I watch the typing dots in our text thread appear and then disappear. It happens a couple of times before finally they vanish for good.
I’m not sure what to make of it, and for a moment I consider calling Zee, but I know I should rest before my family arrives later.
Plugging my phone into the charger next to me, I cuddle into my blankets. Despite the sunlight streaming in through the crack in my curtains, I’m off to dreamland in no time, dancing with the sugarplum fairies.
“Everything smells delicious,” I compliment my mom as I shuffle into the kitchen, clad in fuzzy socks, an oversized Christmas sweater, and my pajama bottoms. Nothing I’m wearing matches, but being that it’s just my family here, there’s no pressure to change.
“You look like shit,” my youngest brother comments with a smirk as I slide onto the barstool next to him.
His comment earns him a punch to the shoulder. “Well, I have an excuse, but I’m not sure what yours is.”
We both laugh, and our mom shakes her head with a smile as she stirs something on my stove.
“We thought we’d keep it easy tonight. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course. What’s for dinner?”
“Turkey with savory stuffing, roasted lemon potatoes, spanakopita, salad, and melomakarona for dessert.”
A hearty sense of nostalgia hits me. “Mom! I thought you weren’t going to make a whole holiday spread?”
“You know your father enjoys his favorite Greek recipes for Christmas.” She lifts her shoulders, grinning. “I couldn’t resist.”
Spinning on my barstool, I turn toward my father, who’s lounging on my sofa watching highlights from a football game. “Where’s everyone else?”
“I’m sure they’ll be here soon. We didn’t want to overwhelm you, so I told them to arrive later, just before dinner. How are you feeling?”
My eyes flick toward my brother, who’s glued to his phone. “So much better. My headache is completely gone now.”
“That’s wonderful, Gennie,” Mom coos. “Just don’t do too much. Let us take care of you.”
For once, I don’t argue with her. We fall into a comfortable silence, listening to the sportscaster talk football. It’s exactly what I need in this moment, and I’m happy to have my parents and one of my brothers here.
Sometimes all a girl needs is her mama, and mine is nothing short of amazing.
The delicious scent of garlic and onions wafts into the air, and I turn back to watch my mother cook.
This is peaceful—I’m happy.
And even though things certainly didn’t go as planned this Christmas, I can’t help but feel content with the way the evening is turning out.
Then I remember—
“Did anyone bring the plastic wrap ball? Are we going to play?”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” My brother gives me a condescending side-eye, finally removing his retinas from his phone and joining us back on planet Earth.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know. I’m not the one with the concussion.”
Everyone needs to stop focusing on me having a concussion. It’s really not that big of a deal. “You guys are acting like I lost a limb. I’m fine.”
“If you insist,” my mother murmurs, pulling open the oven and prodding the flakey, golden brown spanakopita with a wooden spoon. “Perfect, perfect.”
The shrill sound of the doorbell ringing snaps my attention toward my entryway as my sister and my eldest brother burst through the door without waiting to be let in.
Why they bothered ringing the doorbell is beyond me.
They’re bickering, voices competing in a familiar sibling banter they never outgrew.
Two hours later, my entire family is seated cross-legged around my coffee table, laughter filling the room.
With full stomachs and smiles wide, we settle into playing the game we’ve all been anxiously waiting for.
My dad’s already geared up in a pair of pink oven mitts with strawberries on them, my mother waiting with red translucent dice in hand.
My heart is full, yet there’s been a lingering thought in my mind that’s been impossible to shake. With every glance I sneak at my phone, I circle back to the conversation I know I need to have with the one person who won’t leave my thoughts.