“Merry Christmas,” Noah whispers in my ear, putting his arm around my waist.
I snuggle into him, glowing with the thought that this is going to be the best Christmas ever.
? ? ?
It isn’t till the afternoon that it dawns on me that I also don’t have a single Christmas present for anyone. Noah doesn’t seem all that keen on going shopping so I head out to the local parade of stores with Sadie Lee. I buy a pumpkin-scented candle and some fizzy bath goodies for Mum, an American cookbook for Dad, a book about princesses for Bella, and a beautifully carved set of wooden mixing spoons for Sadie Lee—when she’s not looking. I decide to try a music shop for Noah’s gift, but as soon as I get inside it dawns on me that I don’t even know what kind of music he likes. And then it dawns on me how little I still know about him and I have a moment of panic. How can I feel so strongly about someone I’ve only just met? It doesn’t make sense. I look at Sadie Lee sheepishly.
“What kind of music does Noah like?”
She instantly laughs. “That boy likes just about every kind of music. I’m not kidding—he could make a tune from the whistle of a train! But if you had to pin it down, I would go for something old—on vinyl. He loves vinyl.”
I head off to the back of the store, where there are racks and racks of records. As I flick through them, I smile as I breathe in the smell. It’s almost as good as the smell of books. Almost, but not quite. In the end I pick a record by someone called Big Bill Broonzy, just because I love the name. I take the record over to the counter to pay.
“Awesome choice, ma’am,” the guy behind the counter says with a wide grin.
“Thank you,” I say, feeling very proud that I’ve actually gone into a vintage record store in Brooklyn and made an “awesome choice”—even if it is entirely by accident.
The man’s smile grows even broader. “Cute accent. Where are you all from?”
“England.”
“No way!” He grabs my hand and shakes it enthusiastically. “Well, that just made my day.”
I look at his greying dreadlocks and the silver skull on the chain around his neck. He looks so interesting.
“Would you . . . ? Could I . . . ? Would it be OK if I took a picture of you?”
He instantly grins. “Why, yes, of course, ma’am. How do you want me?” He starts puffing out his chest.
“Just as you were, looking at the record would be great,” I say.
The man re-creates the pose and I take the shot. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” He hands me a business card from a pile on the counter. “And when you get back to England you can tell people you met Slim Daniels.”
“I will,” I say, glowing with newfound confidence. I’m no longer a stupid schoolgirl who always makes mistakes, I’m the kind of person who makes awesome choices in Brooklyn record stores and takes photos of people with names like Slim Daniels. Nothing—not even when I take a step backward and almost knock over a display stand—can ruin my happiness.
? ? ?
When Sadie Lee and I get back home, Mum is playing an elaborate game of princesses with Bella in the living room, and Dad and Noah are in the kitchen, preparing some veggies for tomorrow’s Christmas dinner. They’re laughing their heads off as we come in. This is good—very good.
“I thought I’d make us something light for dinner tonight,” Sadie Lee says, putting on her apron. “Don’t want to overdo it before the feast tomorrow.”
“Good plan,” Dad says. “Just let me know if I can help with anything.”
“That would be lovely,” Sadie Lee says. “I was thinking of making a chicken Caesar salad.”
“That happens to be one of my specialities,” Dad says proudly.
“It is,” I say. “Can’t wait.”
“Oh no,” Sadie Lee says, turning to me. “I’m afraid you won’t be eating with us.”
“That’s right,” Noah says.
“What?” I look from Sadie Lee to Dad to Noah. They’re all grinning at me like they’re in on a private joke. “Why won’t I be eating with you?”
“We don’t want you ruining your appetite before the big day,” Noah says.
“We thought it would be best if you went on a fast for the next twenty-four hours,” Dad says.
“What?!”
Noah starts laughing his head off. “Don’t look so stressed. You won’t be having dinner because we are going to be having Picnic Round Two.”
“Is it all ready?” Sadie Lee asks him.
Noah nods and takes hold of my hand. “So, if you’d like to come with me, ma’am, I shall accompany you to your picnic blanket.”
I look at them all and laugh. “Oh my God, that was so mean!”
I follow Noah out into the hallway and down a flight of stairs into the basement of the house.
The basement is like our living room back at home, with a really relaxed and laid-back vibe. There are two squishy sofas covered with cushions and throws and a huge flat-screen TV on the wall. Two brightly colored lava lamps are bubbling away on side tables, casting the room in an orangey glow. The basement’s way bigger than our living room, though, stretching back the entire length of the house. At the very far end, I can just make out a pool table. The tartan blanket is laid out in front of the sofas, covered in plates of the most amazing picnic food.
“This looks fantastic!” I say, turning to Noah.
“Well, I figured after yesterday I needed to pull out all the stops,” he says with a grin.
We both sit down on either side of the blanket.
“So, did your friend get back OK?” Noah asks.
I suddenly realize that I haven’t bothered to check my phone since I got here. Elliot should have landed by now. I think of my phone upstairs in my bag and I contemplate going to get it, but I really don’t want to disrupt the picnic for a second time, especially when Noah’s gone to so much trouble.
“Yes, I think so.”
“Good.” Noah glances up at the TV before looking back at me. “I was wondering . . .”