Chapter 18 #2
The game moves on fast and furious, and the lead swings back and forth between both teams, although Penny’s team maintains a slight edge for most of the game.
They navigate the third round with ridiculous hilarity, as Penny overdramatizes her clues and Martin gets predictably bogged down in unrelated details.
When it’s Mia’s turn, she decides to take advantage of a certain manor resident to really sell her clue.
‘OK, everyone ready? Here we go.’ Her clue is A Christmas Carol, and Mia makes what she envisions is a scary ghost face, and bobs and weaves around her teammates.
‘Mr Popper’s Penguins!’ Martin shouts out. ‘Wait, was that one of the clues?’
‘Well, you should know by now what the clues are,’ Gertie scolds.
Charlie holds up a finger and answers his phone, but even with his ear plugged, he can’t hear the person on the other line.
He hunches over, shouting into the device at his ear.
Penny is laughing so hard that she drops her glass and it splatters across the floorboards.
‘Oh, now I’ve done it. I’ll get a cloth.’
Martin whips out a bar towel from – it would seem – thin air. ‘Here you are, dear. It’s to be expected. We never get through a game without some sort of spill.’
Mia has taken advantage of the pandemonium to covertly wave John over. ‘I need you to help me levitate. When I pretend to jump, I need you to lift me and then set me down in a different spot.’
John frowns at her. ‘That would be cheating,’ he resists.
‘Pssht. The rules don’t say I can’t have help. Especially from a ghost.’
Some of the pandemonium has died down. Mia squares her shoulders and announces, ‘OK. Back to it! Here we go.’ She flaps her arms around her body while Sam and Martin call out every bird species they know.
Then she gives a subtle nod and John places his hands on her waist. His touch is cold and clammy, and Mia pushes away the strange feeling as she prepares to jump, leaping into the air.
John lifts her in a smooth arc that is not too obviously high to be unnatural.
Mia lets out unearthly howls, and moans, and fights back her own laughter at her teammates’ befuddled faces as she does her best floaty walk around the Christmas tree.
‘Zombie?’ Martin guesses, clearly at a loss. ‘No, that’s not it. Maybe … sleepwalking?’
Sam jumps to his feet. ‘A ghost! She’s a ghost – the ghost of Christmas past!
From A Christmas Carol!’ His shout coincides with the buzzer as Mia nods.
Sam gives an exuberant fist pump and then, unexpectedly, pulls Mia into a hug.
At first, she stiffens in surprise. Sam is at once all hard muscle and gentle warmth.
After a moment, she allows herself to relax into the confines of his body.
Heat rises within her, turning her insides liquid as her focus is drawn to the way Sam’s hand spreads along the small of her back.
Before she can decide how she feels about it, he releases her and steps back, eyes shining.
‘We’re only down by two points!’ he says with glee.
Teammate Sam is like an enthusiastic golden retriever. It’s adorable, and right now Mia can’t remember why, exactly, she was ever so furious with him.
‘All right. So, we’ve done these clues three times now. Everyone should be familiar with them. This is the round where we act them out once more, but with a puppet!’ Gertie declares.
Everyone roars with laughter, but Sam just looks confused. ‘Wait, what do we have to do?’
‘It’s the same as charades,’ Mia explains. ‘But you have to control someone else’s body to act out the clues. Like a puppeteer.’
Sam’s eyes widen. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘As a heart attack,’ Martin responds. ‘I’ll go first. Charlie, come here. You’ll be my puppet.’
Martin opens his clue and positions Charlie, giving the nod for the timer to begin. Then he begins marching Charlie around in a circle, bending Charlie’s body in all sorts of ridiculous contortions.
‘Oh, I’ve got it!’ Mia calls out. ‘“Rocking Around the Christmas Tree”!’
Martin cheers, releasing Charlie, who bends over wheezing with laughter.
Penny is filming, laughing away behind her phone, and Aunt Gertie is nodding along beside her.
Mia draws in a contented breath, soaking up the pleasantness of this evening.
They move through several more iterations of the clues, until it’s Sam’s turn to be the puppeteer.
He glances at the folded piece of paper and his smile deepens. ‘I need Mia’s help for this one,’ he declares. With only the slightest bit of hesitation, Mia steps in front of him and faces her family.
‘Ready, go!’ shouts Charlie.
Sam’s hands are on her waist, sliding across her sides to take a firm grip just above her hips.
Mia schools her expression. She is calm.
Cool. Unaffected. But when Sam spins her towards him, all the noise in the background fades out.
Mia studies the curve of his upper lip, so perfectly balanced with his full lower lip.
Behind his clear framed glasses, the crinkles around his eyes have deepened, emphasizing the strong lines of his eyebrows.
What a beautiful, stupidly handsome face.
Sam shifts his hands slightly, and warmth spreads from Mia’s hips upward and inward.
She wants his hands to stay there, stroking, soothing, melting her from the outside in.
Sam’s head bobs slightly from side to side, as if he’s keeping time to a beat.
And suddenly, Mia knows. He’s singing ‘Time of My Life’ in his head, and as he flexes his knees and tightens his grip, Mia holds her body tautly together, legs extended and arms flung wide.
Exhilaration pumps through her as Sam lifts her up above his head like she weighs nothing, and spins in a slow, confident circle.
There’s shouting, and cheering, and possibly a vague cry of defeat from Charlie.
Mia doesn’t pay attention to any of it. Instead, she soaks up the pure thrill of this moment, of Sam acting out her favourite scene from her favourite film, and lets the joy of this experience saturate her entire body.
Then Sam lowers her down, his hands shifting once more to guide her carefully back to standing.
The path his hands take leaves a trail of heat burning along her back.
It’s an out of body experience that leaves Mia reeling, but it’s the look in Sam’s eyes that threatens to flatten her, as though he might come undone.
As though he’s been drowning and she’s just pulled him to safety.
Like all his unfulfilled dreams have finally been granted.
‘Ahem.’ Mia steps back, stumbling a little because her eyes are still locked with Sam’s.
‘Ah, very nice. Dirty Dancing. If I’d known we were going to do that, I would have worn my ball gown.
’ Sam doesn’t move. He doesn’t even acknowledge that he’s heard her.
His chest rises and falls, and Mia has to turn away, because she can’t bear the breadth of emotion flickering in Sam’s eyes. It’s too much.
And then Charlie smacks Sam on the shoulder, congratulating him for his team’s win.
Sam cracks a smile and hugs Charlie, clapping him on the back, thereby breaking eye contact and freeing Mia.
She presses a hand to her stomach and heads towards the hall, pausing only to grab a thick scarf before plunging outside into the cold.