The Stocking Was Hung

“MOLDY COOKIES! MOLDY COOKIES!” I quickly shout, glancing at Noel’s dad just to make sure he didn’t sneak the BB gun home from that house and is pointing it at my face, ready to shoot if I answer incorrectly.

After the tour, we all came back to her parents’ place and settled into the living room to watch the movie about the house we toured. I complained to Noel about how the entire thing is nothing but whining, screaming, crying kids and it was making my ears bleed, but to be honest, it was kind of funny. Watching her and her brother recite all of the lines back and forth through the movie made my chest ache with the realization of just how lucky Noel was to have grown up with something like this. With people like these. Sure, they’re insane and inappropriate, but they clearly love each other. They actually like spending time together, and all I can do is watch them together and wish I had even a tiny bit of this life growing up.

During the movie, Noel’s mom kept us stuffed full of homemade Christmas cookies and hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows and kept replacing the bag of frozen vegetables on my lap whenever one would lose its chill. So far, I’ve been through two bags of peas and three bags of corn. I don’t want to tell her my balls are no longer in pain because she seems so damn happy each time she rushes back from the kitchen with a new frozen bag. It’s so…motherly. Something that is completely strange to me, yet I’m enjoying every minute of it. Have I ever had someone take care of me like this in my entire life? Not only am I getting attached to Noel, I’m getting attached to her family and it’s probably not a very good idea. In a few days, I’ll go back to my sad, lonely house in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere while Noel will fly back home to Seattle and maybe even make up with that dumb shit, Logan. I can’t afford to get attached to something that will slip from my fingers in the blink of an eye, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it either.

Noel is currently curled up next to me on the couch with her legs tucked under her, nestled against my side. With my arm flung over the back of the couch behind her, I’ve been twirling strands of her hair between my fingers while we all sit around playing this Would You Rather game—Christmas edition. The fire is roaring, the Christmas tree is lit in the corner, and I didn’t even want to stab anyone when Dominic the Donkey started playing on the radio.

Yep, I’m getting way too comfortable and attached.

“Would you rather have sex with Santa or one of his elves?” Nicholas asks, turning his attention to Aunt Bobbie.

“That’s a tough one,” she muses, taking a drink of her hot chocolate that I’m pretty sure has been spiked with vodka based on the way she keeps teetering back and forth in her chair and has almost fallen out of it a few times.

“Santa’s got more cushion for the pushin’, but those elves are tiny and can fit in small spaces,” she adds. “And I really feel those pointy ears could be used for good instead of evil.”

Everyone winces and I hear Noel groan in disgust from next to me.

“So, Logan, I have to say, I really thought my daughter would come home with a ring on her finger,” Noel’s mother suddenly says, interrupting the game.

“Mom!” Noel protests, shifting uncomfortably on the couch next to me.

My fingers stop playing with her hair and I move my hand to her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Really, Leon, it’s time for you to settle down. I mean, look at your brother and how happy he is. Don’t you want that for yourself?” her mother implores. “You flit from one job to the next and one boyfriend to another, and I just assumed since Logan here lasted for more than a few weeks, that you two were serious. You’re not getting any younger, honey.”

“Mom, stop. Now is not the time for this,” Noel pleads, shooting me an embarrassed look.

“Leon will never settle down, Mom, give it a rest. Just be happy you have one perfect child and let it go,” Nicholas says with a laugh, resting his hand on Casey’s huge pregnant belly and giving it a rub.

“Didn’t you say Logan asked what your ring size was? When we talked on the phone a few weeks ago, you were all in a panic telling me he asked, so I’m sorry if I just assumed you’d be coming home with a ring on your finger.” Her mother complains, ignoring Nicholas.

“Um, that was for his grandmother,” Noel mutters. “I guess we have the same size fingers or something and he wanted to buy her something nice for Christmas, right, honey?”

She looks at me with big, pleading eyes and I give her a smile of encouragement.

“Yep, that’s exactly what it was. A ring for my grandmother,” I announce to the room. “But don’t worry, Noel here will be getting a ring soon enough, I’m just waiting for the right time. She deserves nothing but the best, and I want it to be perfect, just like her.”

Aunt Bobbie sighs with a dreamy look in her eye and starts chugging the rest of her hot chocolate, Noel’s mom shaking her head sadly.