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My head pounding, I glance at my surroundings. This years Christmas was ten times crazier then any party I've been to before.
I brush the hair off my forehead squinting at the Christmas tree.
Is that a thong?
Whose great idea was decorating the tree in lingerie?
I pat my pocket searching for my phone. I check the time, 10:42 am.
With shaky legs I stand, using the couch as support I make my way through the living room. Mom lays snuggled on a couch clutching a wine bottle in her arms like a teddy bear.
Aunts and uncles lay passed out on the carpet covered in tinsel and who the hell even knows what.
I stumble through the piles of bodies reaching the kitchen.
Some old over weight Asian man, whom I've never met in my entire life lays butt naked on the kitchen table.
We eat off that... Well not anymore!
I feel the sudden urge to throw up.
Covering my face with my hands I run as fast as I can across the house to the all so familiar bathroom.
Emptying my stomach's contents in the toilet, I slump against the tile floor in defeat.
Merry fucking Christmas Brooke.
My heart aches. It was all so long ago, yet I still remember him like it was only yesterday...
"Hey Brooke, what's this I see above you?"
Recognizing the familiar voice I turn and face a smirking Chase. My eyes sparkling over the fact he's holding it over us.
"Oh my. Looks like you've caught me under the mistletoe"
Giggling I pull him close and I whisper softly, "well Mr. Chase. You're going to have earn it."
He grins mischievously glancing around the empty hallway.
"I never thought that Mr. Chase could sound so sexy coming from those delicious... Looking lips" his voice is husky and matches my quiet whisper.
Chase slowly steps closer, removing the tiny space there was previously before us.
My back hits the wall and his breath against my neck leaves my entire body in tingles.
A fiery warmth spreads from where his lips linger by my ear, all the way down to my toes.
I can't help, but shudder while running a hand through his thick dark hair. Not wanting to break away I pull his face closer to mine and I mumble slowly against his lips, "I think.. I think you earned yourself that kiss."
Before I can even finish my sentence he slams his lips on mine, pushing me softly towards the bedroom door.
Let's just say he earned himself a lot more then a kiss under the mistletoe that night.
I smile as the memory fades, then I wince it hurts having to remember everything so often. Sometimes apart of me hopes and thinks he's still alive. They never found him, or a body. Where could he possibly have gone all this time?
I realize that I'm still sprawled out on the floor. Sighing, I pull myself together for the moment and stand, hardly willingly.
Better shower and get presentable before mom makes everyone help with cleanup and brunch.
That's kind of the tradition around here. Eat a good meal Christmas Eve, party hard all night, then wake up in the morning for clean up and and a pancake brunch.
Every year my mom makes sure no one slips through the door without helping cleanup. You can't even try because she'll hang a lickin on ya.
Take it from someone with too much experience.
It takes a lot of her to even let a person walk away from her afterward brunch.
"You better have a darn good excuse for missing some of my specialty pancakes!"
Yes. Yes I know. A real life actual quote from my mother. Maybe next Christmas I could get her a t-shirt that say that...
Anyway like I said, Christmas clean up is no treat. I could tell by some of the guests grumbling they weren't too fond of it either, but their opinions soon changed when brunch rolled around.
On the bleach scrubbed table mom had laid out all the fixings. Huge steaming stacks of pancakes stood at both ends of the table, any kind of jam you could think of, maple syrup and butter, even Nutella, peanut butter, and half of our local wal-mart's fruit section!
Mouth watering I watch as dad try's to sneak a small chunk of pineapple. Failing badly, Mom catches him and swats his hand with her cloth. "We haven't started yet, you mule!"
"If was just one piece Del!" He protests in surrender.
"Try that again and you can make your own breakfast!"
I chuckle. Their both crazy.
It's too bad I'm gunna have to skip this one out. I need to go home to be alone for a while.
My eyes scan the room finding Will chatting with our old babysitter.
Walking up to them I ask hesitantly, "hey. You think you could cover for me? I need to get out of here."
Will eyes me, uncertain.
"You okay bookie?"
I nod, not looking directly into his eyes. I just need some space to breathe.
Sometimes extravagant holidays can be too much.
"Don't worry about me. I'm completely fine" the lie rolls off my tongue easily as I keep going, "I just have some documents from work I forgot to finish up and I really have to get them finished."
His face floods with relief and he leans closer. "Okay. I was scared this would be about what happened."
I know exactly what he means when he whispers in my ear.
I scoff. "Yeah no. I'm totally fine. Just cover for me okay?"
He notices my desperation and nods.
"Okay. I'll stop in sometime this week. You can help me look for an apartment."
Smiling I nod. "Sounds great. Bye!"
Before anyone notices I slip out the back door. Of course, only after taking a couple pancakes for the road.
~
I unlock my apartment door and throw my bags beside the entry table, slamming the door behind me.
When people think apartments they always assume it's a one bedroom place with a stove and a toilet.
That's not always the case.
My apartment is more like a penthouse. I have a great view of the city and since I'm on the top floor I get access to the roof.
Before living were I do now, I had been in some really crappy shit holes so I'm truly grateful for what I have now.
I have a a fairly large kitchen, with a walk in pantry. In the master bedroom I have a jacuzzi tub with a huge window overlooking the city, taking baths in the evening is the best thing ever.
The spare bedroom is kind of small, but that's okay, it's never really been used.
I have a small dining room and the living room is pretty huge.
I have three white couches covered in any colour pillow you can imagine. Book shelves line one of the walls covering it fully with books.
I have a few dying plants too. Their great. Although I'm not sure how much longer they'll last I'm not much of a gardener really.
I love my place. It's mine. It's the one thing I have that I can call mine and only mine.
Kicking my shoes off in the entrance I shift over towards the kitchen.
Flicking on the studio style lights I grab a bottle of wine from the rack beside the pantry.
Time for a bath with candles, wine, and sad music.
Before I can make my way up the spirally staircase to my bedroom my phone rings.
"Hello?
I'm greeted by at least 30 seconds of silence.
"Brooke?"
I'm suprised.. It's Dean. Why on earth would he be calling me at this hour?
"Yes that's me. What can I do for you? This is Dean right?"
"Yes. I called because I was wondering if you'd like to meet me someplace for dinner? I need to ask you something."
My stomachs churns.
Oh god. Don't fire me.
Breathe. It's okay.
"Yeah erm. Sure. What time?"
He pauses again, making the butterflies in my stomach explode.
"I'll have my driver pick you up around 6? Dress up please."
"Yeah that should be fine."
"Okay. Until then ms. Brooke."
The line goes dead and I can help, but wonder. What in the world just happened.. And what the hell did I agree to?
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