04
Today
"We used to have this big post-Christmas party on our street every year. I think they still do. It was kind of really, really fun. Everybody had to move out one big table from their houses and onto the streets, and they were all set up in a long, long line, that was then covered in white. We all sat together, all the people of the street, having this one hell of a giant dinner party after an entire evening of Christmas-y competitions and – "
"You mean like who best decorates the Christmas tree? Did you have that? We had it all the time in our family," Andrew says, a glow in his eyes that I had come to associate with him only when he talked about things of his heart.
"Yes! We did," I say happily, at least somebody knew the fun.
"Bloody awesome, they were," he says, shaking his head, "I won just one, but my brother, Nico, won like, every other year. And he's not even creative. I don't know how he always won."
"Sore loser, we have here?" I tease him, reveling in just the mirth of it all. Never, had I expected this day, out of all, to turn out to be this.
"I am not a sore loser, it just annoyed me." I laugh. "Yeah, yeah. How many did you win yourself, not-a-sore-loser?"
"Four of the seven times I played," I laugh. "I actually played a couple more times than seven, but I was so young and I don't remember any of that anyway, so that does not count."
"Whatever," he says. "So, your dinner party."
"Our dinner party, yes," I say. "It was another of The Most Awaited Things of My Years. Of course, we had our share of black sheep, those families that never turned up, and it sort of always angered me how they did not want to be a part of something this extraordinary. Because it was exactly that. It was happiness. And up until that year, Isaac Harlow's family, they were one of them."
"Oh," he says.
"Yeah," I nod, "told you I had a lot of reasons to hate him."
"He came that year, didn't he?"
I nod again. "Yeah. Their entire family." I take a breath. "See, Isaac was a total, a complete mommy's boy. I don't think, in all of the time I had known her, I had never seen her fret about anything other than Isaac. It just. I don't know. Before I knew him, like, knew knew him, it always just annoyed me. It was kind of annoying, because all she ever thought about was her own son. But then, when I was acquainted with him and in a good way? Yeah, it wasn't so annoying anymore. He cared a lot about her."
"He did?"
"Hm-hm. A lot. It was adorable, really."
"Don't get all mushy on me now," Andrew says.
I laugh, "I'm sorry, I kind of have a thing for boys who are close to their mothers."
"Oh," Andrew says again, and then goes quiet. I wait for him to speak. "You know," he starts, "I don't live with my mother now, but I call her up twice everyday and I have a thing for girls who have a thing for boys who are close to their mothers and I was just wondering if – "
"Oh, my God," I crack up, "Shut up, you goof."
He grins. I like this grin of his. This is the one that comes up when he makes me laugh or smile, like he has a special smile for when others laugh or smile because of him. It really is special.
