5. Malcolm
“You knew about this?” Benny’s eyes are about to bug out of his skull at his fiancée. They herded me into the kitchen the minute I walked in here. No, ‘Hello, thanks for coming.’ Just snatched my phone like the meddling vultures they are, and they have been glued to it since.
“She just told me today! I swear!” Ellie defends her friend, giving me those pity eyes I despise. Don’t pity me.
“She likes a clean-shaven man?” Benny lets out a whistle as Ellie snatches the phone and scans it even more. Kate’s dating profile. Yeah, I may have made a fake profile to scope out the situation. It took less than five minutes to figure out which app she is using and answer the About Me questions. Someone had to. “How do you feel about this?” Benny’s bug eyes are on me now, gesturing a hand around his jaw. This behavior, paired with his Santa hat, is making it real difficult to take him seriously.
“I don’t know. She’s an adult. She makes her own choices.” I shrug and take a sip of brandy from my reindeer cup. I don’t need to tell them how I feel or about my new impulsive urge to shave. Clean-shaven men. Four years of pristine patience gone in seconds.
“Are you okay?” Ellie asks. The worry in her voice makes my skin crawl.
“I’m fine.” I down the last sip of my brandy before popping the cork of the bottle and filling up again. “Can we drop it?”
Benny and Ellie glance at each other then back at me. Probably some weird, engaged-couple telepathy thing they’re doing. I stare at them, unblinking and huddled in the corner of the kitchen, away from the cheerful festivities. The awkward silence builds, and their anticipation is palpable and infuriating. Benny sips on his cider loudly. Ellie taps her fingers on the counter slowly. Both of them are chomping at the bit to keep talking about this situation.
The situation where I, an almost forty-year-old chump, have had a crush on my best friend for five years. Someone so polar opposite of me that the idea of us being together is laughable. The friend that has finally decided to start dating again after three years. Before that? I had to endure the trainwreck of a relationship unfold between her and Eric.
Picturing him makes me want to gouge my eyes out.
Everyone with a brain knows I have feelings for Kate. On some level, I think Kate does too. And when Eric left, everyone—and I do mean everyone—leapt at the chance to get us together, meddling their way into a complex friendship. Lucky for me, Kate swore off dating, and I didn’t have to put up with our librarian, Margaret’s, wooing tactics. Apparently, all it would take to get Kate to give me a chance is the right moves. I grimace at the memory of Margaret shaking her hips and puckering her lips.
Now, Kate is back on the market. So much so that she’s bringing strangers to her lola’s house. And if the darting eyes from the family are any indication, it’s clear what everyone here thinks. They think I should just ask her out. It’s that simple.
To them.
But to me, not so much. I don’t like most people. I don’t like feelings. And I definitely don’t like my friends knowing about my feelings. If I could gag myself and get run over by my own truck, I would if it meant not having to endure this conversation.
“So you’re really not going to tell her?” Ellie whispers. “Don’t you want to know if she feels the same way?”
“Nope.”
“Apo, don’t you lie to your friends.” Lola limps into the kitchen to join us, the bells on her sweater jingling with each step, her elf hat abandoned on the couch.
Benny and Ellie rush to find her a chair and help her sit down steadily. The woman had hip surgery, was told by her doctor to take it easy, yet here she is, forcing us all to have a Christmas party in March.
“I’m not lying,” I grumble at the scoffs and eye rolls I get in response.
“Don’t you lie to me either.” She shoves her knuckle into my thigh. They sat her next to me and just vanished. Of course they did.
“Lola …” I squat down, getting eye level with this fragile woman—basically my surrogate grandmother. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” I rub the back of my neck when her eyes shift downward. I can’t stand seeing her sad. It’s like seeing Kate sad in forty years. It guts me.
Laughter and clinking of drinks come from the other side of the kitchen counter. Even when I’m squatting, I’m still tall enough to see they’re all playing Christmas charades. Kate sits on the armrest of the couch, a solid five feet from Nick. Her date. I can tell she’s uncomfortable by the way she’s white-knuckling her cup and looking over at the kitchen every few seconds.
“Go rescue her,” Lola says.
“Why? She brought him here. She should suffer the consequences.”
Lola chuckles at me then proceeds to jam her knuckle into my arm this time. “She’s just ready to find happiness. She’ll learn where and who to find that with soon enough.” She gives me a wink.
I blow all the air out of my lungs and smooth out my beard. I want her to be right. I want to be Kate’s happiness. But what if I’m not what she wants? Am I really going to jeopardize our friendship just to put myself out there?
“I can’t lose her,” I breathe.
“You won’t.” She pats me on the shoulder then uses me as a brace as she stands on wobbly legs. “You can’t lose someone you’re destined to be with.”
Destiny. Fate. The universe. Kate and her lola are the quirky kind of people who believe in that stuff. For a long time, I thought it was idiotic. But there’s something about their faith in the future that sends a flutter through my chest.
Hope. They have hope for things unseen. And as crazy as that sounds to some, over time I’ve realized that all we can do is hope. Plotting and planning gets us nowhere when things go wrong. A vague picture of desert sand and orange flames flashes across my mind, mixing with the colored lights on the Christmas tree. Planning can get us killed.
I shake off the memory and help Lola make her way around the kitchen counter where Benny can lead her to the couch. The family bickers at her for walking too much, an uncle mimics her slow pace, an aunt swats at him, and a few cousins giggle. I scan over the group, noting who’s here and who’s missing, reminding myself to call Uncle Jerry back and find time to fix Auntie Dawn’s faucet.
My eyes land on a set of dark-brown ones with hints of auburn. Eyes swirling like a fresh cup of coffee, sparkling with warmth under the Christmas lights. Eyes that dance when they laugh at her own jokes, twitch in the corners when they’re angry, and squint to hold back tears when they’re sad. Eyes I would die for.
Kate’s eyes stay pinned on me as she mouths, “Help me.” I shrug at her and take another drink. A silent plea with a pout is shot my way. I hold up my finger, just a minute, and take an extra-long and slow chug of my drink. I watch her groan out at my snail’s pace, a dribble of brandy leaving my mouth as I laugh. “Fine,” I mouth.
I finish my glass and make my way into the living room. Christmas charades has morphed into another game about a bowl or something. I take a seat on the floor near the couch. Lola is on the far end, winking at me. Aunt Edna is next to her, talking Nick’s ear off, who is seated right next to Kate. The proximity of his knee to hers sends a jolt up my spine. He’s practically in her lap.
Kate waves at the open spot on the floor next to her feet.
I pat the seat on the floor next to me.
She waves again.
I pat again.
Then we stare at each other in a standoff, her date completely oblivious to what’s happening a foot away from him. Kate caves, huffing as she scoots her feet across the carpet to where I’m sitting.
“Care to join me?” I rest my arms behind my head and lean against the wall.
Kate towers over me, her small frame swallowed by a colossal Christmas sweater. It’s hideous. It looks like she lost a fight with an elf in a tinsel factory. I wonder why she wore something so ugly when underneath that sweater is a figure so beautiful it could send a man to the moon. Is it possible Kate didn’t want Nick to gawk at her? Because I’m confident if she was wearing something else, ole Nicky Poo wouldn’t be so engrossed in his conversation with Edna.
Kate groans, plopping down on the carpet beside me. We watch everyone play games in silence. She taps her fingers against her thigh to the Christmas music, each nail a different shade of red, looking at everyone in the room but me.
“You’re off beat.” I chuckle.
She stops tapping then puffs her cheeks out, red splotches forming like they always do when she does that.
I lean over and whisper, “What’s wrong?”
“Hmm?” She leans in, a piece of her curly hair getting caught on my beard. “Oh, nothing. I don’t know. I just…” Taking a breath, she finally looks at me. “Are you mad?”
“About what?”
“This whole”—she waves a hand as if to present the living room on The Price is Right—“dating situation.”
“Dating situation?” I muse.
“I just don’t want you upset that I didn’t tell you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She doesn’t respond right away. Instead, we watch the chatter across the room. Holiday cheer in all its glory. I used to hate this holiday—growing up in a broken home with separate holidays and all. The holidays at the Divata home are always a highlight for me. Kate’s family has been nothing but welcoming to me the last five years.
A part of me, much bigger than I will admit to anyone, hopes I never lose it.
“I didn’t want you to feel alone.” Her voice is a whisper. “We’ve been buddies for so long, and eventually, I’ll have someone, and I won’t be able to be just your buddy anymore.”
“Because you’ll have two buddies.” I nod in understanding.
“Not what I mean!” Shoving me in the shoulder, she giggles. It’s a sweet sound, and I hate myself for how I let it make me feel. All warm and fuzzy and ridiculous. “I just mean…” Nick turns around and waves at us. She pauses and waves back. I don’t. “I just mean—” She focuses back on me, but her face is sadder than when her dog Hilda died. “I won’t see you as much if I’m dating someone. You’ll have to…share me.”
Her words hit me like a blow in the stomach. Share her. I try to not focus on the sentiment sounding like she’s a possession and focus on the reality that she won’t just be my curly-headed firecracker anymore. She could become someone else’s.
Everything around me goes silent as the reality of the situation starts to sink in. The moment slows as I watch a slow breath leave her lips. They start to draw me into a serene mental space when, out of nowhere, a deafening clang shatters the silence, reverberating up my spine and into my ears.
Terrified and on instinct, I brace for bullet fire and turn my body into Kate’s, shielding both of us from the impact. My entire body goes instantly rigid and shaky as I hover over her on all fours. Her eyes lock onto mine. Her mouth moves, but I can’t hear what she says through the ringing in my ears. My heart pounds viciously in my chest, and my vision blurs. Everything about this says I should run for cover, but keeping Kate safe is my priority.
I stay pinned above her.
Placing her hand on my chest and splaying her fingers wide over my heart, she mouths, “It’s okay.” I don’t budge. My chest is heaving, and my arms are trembling. Images of the desert flash across my mind. The heat, the dirt, the blood. Everything around me feels fuzzy. Voices are muffled and distant. Kate’s eyes are focused on mine as her fear fades slowly as I stay planted in place. My shoulders pull tight, panic prickling at my neck as I try to focus.
Her eyes. Her cheeks. Her lips.
I catalog them one by one, confirming she’s in one piece.
A drop of water lands on her cheek. She blinks, wiping it away, then she reaches up to my cheek to wipe mine. Am I crying? She wipes again, this time on my forehead. Sweat.
“Malcolm, it’s okay.” Her voice sounds far away, but the ringing starts to subside. “Malcolm, we’re okay.” She grabs my cheeks and rubs her thumbs back and forth, wiping away more sweat. Her pupils dilate and constrict as they stay locked on me. I focus on them, the shade of coppery red on the outer edge, the dark swirl of chocolate brown in the center. I can see myself in them. A reflection of a man, pitiful and afraid.
“Malcolm, you alright, buddy?” A hand grabs my shoulder, momentarily jolting my gaze away from Kate. Benny is at my side, shaking my shoulders and pulling me up. “Sorry, man. Jerry dropped the punch bowl.”
“Darn thing sliced my pinky!” Jerry yells from the kitchen sink, a pile of broken glass laying on the counter next to him.
Kate sits up, her gaze shifting into a sympathetic frown as I straighten.
“Kate, I’m sorry,” I stutter my words. “The noise, it just—”
Her hand finds my cheek. “Shh, don’t. It’s okay.” She brushes her fingers down the side of my beard, and my body shivers in response. Her slender arms wrap around my waist and squeeze. “Are you alright?”
Resting my chin on her head, I nod. Her curls tangle in my beard again. For a moment, I don’t pull away. I can’t. I let her soft hair cushion my face as I slow my breathing. She squeezes one more time before letting go, hands grazing slowly across my lower back. What the feeling of her hands on me does to my insides is too embarrassing to admit.
“Here, drink some water.” Ellie hands me a glass as Kate steps back. The room is staring at me. Us. And the big fiasco that just happened under the Christmas tree. Jerry is at the back of the room, mouthing his apologies. Fantastic.
If it were possible for awkward silence to be heard, this would be that time. I can hear it loud and clear. Smoothing out my beard, I chug the water and take a bow. “Merry Christmas, everyone.” Might as well make light of something awkward, or they’ll all keep staring at me.
Kate eyes me guardedly before sitting on the couch. “Bravo.” She forces a smile and single clap at this absurd situation. Nick joins her on the couch, two drinks in hand as he wraps his arm around her and whispers something in her ear.
The reindeer cup in my hand crumples.
Kate’s and Nick’s heads snap to me, her eyes widening at Dasher’s face squished in my palm. “I’m gonna go,” I grit out.
“‘Night, everyone.” I wave, hug, and shake my way through the house. “Goodnight, Lola.” I kiss Kate’s grandma on the cheek then nod to Benny and Ellie as I reach the front door.
“Malcolm, wait!” The warmth of her voice threatens to swallow me up. Kate weaves through the family and meets me at the front door. “Will you be—”
“I’m fine, Stanley,” I snip unintentionally, and she recoils at my tone. Deep breath. “I’ll be okay. I promise.” I pull her by the hem of her ugly sweater and wrap her in a hug. Her body relaxes under mine, and I follow suit. The power this woman has on my nerves is strong enough to power a nuke. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”
She speaks into my chest. “Don’t apologize. I’m just sorry you’re still going through this.”
“It’s not like it used to be.”
“Good.” She looks up at me, resting her chin on my chest, arms still around me. I could stay here, in this moment, forever. “I need to know you’re going to be okay.”
A small ringlet of hair falls across her face. I pull it away and tuck it behind her ear. “Don’t worry about me,” I say, then kiss the top of her head.
“You’re gonna have to move that a few inches south, Geer!” Paul, one of Lola’s cousins, but not an uncle, calls to us from the kitchen.
Kate and I release our hug and look at him. My confusion is clear when he laughs and points above us. I look up, and my soul leaves my body.
Mistletoe.
Kate chokes out a laugh then grabs my arm and starts to laugh even harder. A wheezy chortle leaves her throat as she points at me and then the mistletoe. The girl has tears running down her face, for God’s sake.
“What’s so funny, Stanley?”
“It’s just—” She gives a breathless laugh. “Of course that would happen—” Another laugh. “When I’m here with a date.” She grabs her side and bends at the waist, losing control as she spirals into a fit of giggles. The entire house is watching her now—including her date.
“We can opt out, then.”
“No, you cannot!” Ellie yells from the couch. “My house, my rules.”
“Not your house, ma’am,” I retort, looking at Lola and Benny and give them my best pleading look.
Benny whispers something to Lola then faces me with a smug grin. He rubs his chin, pretending to give it thought. His grin widens when he says, “Mistletoe is binding!”
The house cheers and claps at my misery. I groan and run my hand down my face. This is not how I want my first kiss with Kate to go.
“Kiss her already!” Lola yells from next to Edna. Nick, on the other side, is glowering at her then at us. He’s too chicken to oppose the family. Smart man.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and look back down at Kate. She’s biting her lip, with her arms behind her back, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Is she nervous? That’s interesting.
“Well…” I drop my hands to my sides. “What do you want to do?”
She glances at the room then back to me. “What do you—”
“No.” I stop her. “None of that. I asked first.”
“Dang it,” she mumbles under her breath. Still biting her lip, her eyes flicker as she contemplates. Then a slow, devilish smile moves across her face. “Mistletoe is binding, I guess.” She shrugs one shoulder, a coy look on her face as she steps closer.
She’s enjoying this.
“You think you can handle me?” She bats her eyelashes.
“Why are you tormenting me?” I grumble.
“I just think it’s good for you to embrace some spontaneity.” She giggles, stepping closer.
We’re toe to toe…under the mistletoe… Alright, I need Jerry to come punch me in the face for thinking that.
“I can be spontaneous,” I whisper, my breath blowing a stray hair away from her face.
“I’ve never seen you be spontaneous.” She gives me a smirk.
“Stanley, are you flirting with me?” I can’t fight the smile that escapes me when Kate gives me a sneaky wink, biting her glossy lip again. Distracting.
“Just trying to make it worth your while.” Her cheeks flush pink with her words.
I lean down, letting my breath hit the soft spot on her neck. Goosebumps form instantly as I whisper against her ear. “What about your date?”
She glances over at Nick, who’s chatting it up with Edna again, ignoring the scene in the doorway. “I don’t think he’s very concerned.” Her eyes meet mine again, serious this time. “This won’t ruin anything, right?”
“Only if we let it.”
“Will you…let it?” Her words come out in a quivering whisper.
I take her hand, holding it in mine against my chest. “Never.”
A deep sigh leaves Kate’s mouth. “How do you want to do this, then?”
“I thought you wanted me to be spontaneous?” I smirk.
Her cheeks are red now, eyes expectant as she looks up at me. Everything I want in this life is right here. Everything I’ve missed out on. The girl that has had my heart on a string for the last five years is within my grasp.
But it can’t start like this.
I want Kate Stanley more than I want air to breathe. It’s almost pathetic how gone I am for this woman. I’ve dreamt of this moment in ways I can’t admit. But it can’t be like this…with an audience. It can’t be because of some fake, stupid house rule. If I’m going to get Kate Stanley to give me a shot—a real shot—I need it to be perfect.
Cradling her face in my hands, I stare at her full lips. They part slightly as my breath trembles out of me. Her eyes widen at my gaze before she quickly shuts them and presses her lips back together. They’re a raspberry pink tonight with a light shimmer. So distracting. So tempting. “I’ll give you spontaneous.”
In an instant, I wrap an arm around her waist, dipping her low underneath the mistletoe. Her face is stunned at the swift motion. The house is giggling and gasping all around us.
Then…I kiss her on the cheek.