“I know but . . . anyway, what happened? What did your parents say?”
“They freaked.” Elliot looks down at the table and starts picking at the tablecloth. “They said that there was no way I could stay here for Christmas, that that wasn’t what they agreed to—like this is some legal case they’re working on. They’d rather I fly home on my own than stay here with you guys because they want a family Christmas. But”—Elliot pauses as if for dramatic effect—“they did say that if you came home with me you’d be welcome to spend Christmas at ours.”
“Oh—I—”
“Aha, the wanderer has returned!” Dad cries as he plonks down into the seat next to me. He’s red-faced and out of breath. Clearly some serious dad-dancing has been going on in my absence.
Mum sits down next to him. She’s not looking quite so ruffled, but then, she’s still a great dancer from her theater days. “Penny, where’s Noah?”
“He’s gone back home,” I say.
Mum frowns. “Already? Why didn’t you ask him to join us? I’m sure the Bradys wouldn’t have minded—he is Sadie Lee’s grandson after all.”
Geez, if I hear that one more time! “It’s OK. I needed to see Elliot—about his parents.”
“Ah yes.” Dad shakes his head, looking at Elliot. “It’s such a shame. Christmas won’t be the same without you.”
Elliot nods and sighs, then he turns to me. “So, what do you think, Pen?”
“I don’t know.” I gaze at the crowded dance floor, as if searching for inspiration. How can I possibly get out of this without hurting Elliot’s feelings?
“What does she think about what?” Dad asks.
“My parents have said that Penny is welcome to spend Christmas with us, if she comes home with me tomorrow.” Elliot looks at Dad hopefully.
I look at Mum and she raises her eyebrows. I focus really hard and try to send her a psychic daughter-mother message to beg her not to let me go.
“Oh, I don’t know . . .” Mum begins.
“I know one of my parents’ Christmas-ready meals on a tray won’t be the same as one of your dad’s epic feasts,” Elliot says, turning to me, “but then you won’t be having one of your dad’s epic feasts this year anyway, will you? You’ll be having a hotel Christmas dinner.”
“But—” I begin.
“We won’t be spending Christmas at the hotel,” Mum says gently. “We’re going to be staying at Sadie Lee’s.”
Elliot’s eyes widen. “Sadie Lee’s?”
“Yes,” Mum replies, “the woman who did the catering for the wedding. She’s invited us to spend Christmas at her house.”
“Oh. I see,” Elliot says flatly.
“And we really want Penny with us,” Dad says softly.
“Yes, it’ll be bad enough having Christmas without Tom,” Mum adds.
I feel a surge of relief. Now I don’t have to tell Elliot I don’t want to go home with him; I can blame my parents.
“That’s OK, I understand,” Elliot says quietly.
“We’ll only be staying a week,” I say.
“Eight days,” Elliot says quickly.
“OK, eight days. I can Skype with you.”
“Are you sure you won’t be too busy?” Elliot mutters.
“Hey, it’s our song!” Dad cries as “When a Man Loves a Woman” starts playing. He leaps to his feet and holds out his hand to Mum. “Madam, would you do me the honor?”
“Why, I would be delighted,” Mum cries, taking his hand.
As I watch them head back to the dance floor, I smile. It’s weird because recently their public displays of affection had been making me feel really wistful, like they were members of an exclusive Couples Club I’d never be able to join. But now watching them reminds me of Noah and it makes me feel all warm inside.
“I suppose I’d better go and start packing,” Elliot says, breaking my trance.
“I’ll help you,” I say, desperate to say something, anything, to make Elliot feel better. “We could have a midnight feast if you like? I have a parcel of picnic food.”
“I have no appetite,” Elliot says.
“Not even for chocolate-covered strawberries?”
“He brought you chocolate-covered strawberries?”
I nod nervously, unsure of what kind of response this will get given the mood Elliot’s in.
“Seriously, does this guy have any flaws?”
“I’m sure he has tons,” I say, although I’m not sure of that at all.
“Hmm. All right, come on then.”
? ? ?
It’s not until we’ve gotten Elliot’s case packed that his mood finally starts to lift.
“I’m sorry,” he says, flopping down on his bed. “I was just so disappointed not to be spending Christmas with you guys. But I suppose it’s for the best that I’ve got to go home; I’d only be a big fat gooseberry if I stayed.”
“No you wouldn’t.” I sit down on the bed next to him. “Look, the fact is, Noah and I live about ten thousand miles apart—”
“Four thousand, actually.”
“OK, four thousand, but that’s still more than an entire ocean, so it’s not like this is going to affect our friendship at all. It’s just—just . . .”
“A holiday romance?” Elliot offers hopefully.
“Yes, a holiday romance.”
But as Elliot grins and nods, an unsettling thought occurs to me. This is the first time I’ve ever lied to him in all our years of friendship.