One Night

The One Where We Go To A Middle School Nativity Show

It was nearing six pm when we finally got back into the warmth of Elliott's car, the engine roaring and the heat coming through the blowers. I hadn't noticed how cold it was until we were on the walk towards the parking lot, but once the cold registered, it was hard to ignore the tingling in my fingertips, or how my nose was close to freezing.

Elliott and I were sitting in a comfortable silence when the quiet atmosphere was shattered by the loud ringing of Elliott's cell phone. It was a generic ring-ring tone, like the preset tone that manufacturers choose, and it had me laughing for some bizarre reasons. For someone like Elliott, I was half expecting a profanity laden Kanye West track, or some other hip-hop rap song that I would never willingly listen to.

"Hey, Mom," Elliott said down the line once he accepted the incoming call. "I'm at the mall. Why, what's up?" Unlike most in his position, Elliott doesn't seem phased about talking to his Mom in front of me. He doesn't even turn away or lower his voice. "I thought that was tomorrow night. So, it's not? It's tonight? Um... Mom, I don't think that's going to work for me. No, Mom, because I'm out on a date."

I smiled.

"Yes, mother, an actual date," Elliott's voice sounds irritated as he speaks. "No, she's not made up. No, I am not going to let you talk to her. Why? Oh, I don't know, Mom, take a wild guess why. Knowing you, you'll say something totally inappropriate. Mom, please don't make me... okay, hold on a second." Elliott presses a button on the touch screen of his phone and turns to shoot me an apologetic smile. "She wants to talk to you to make sure you're real and not- and I quote- 'a figment of my overactive imagination.' You can say 'no' if you want."

With only a slight tremor in my voice, I say, "I'll do it. Hand the phone here." Elliott presses the phone into my hand and reaches over to connect the call once more. I can hear the faint sound of his mother's voice coming down the line, and I gulp. Bringing the phone up to my ear, I speak. "Hello, Mrs. Anthony."

"Holy shit!" Elliott's mother shouts down the line. "Byron, get here! Elliott finally has a girlfriend! Oh, sweetie," I think she's taking to me now. "This is wonderful. I thought my son was going to be a miniature Hugh Hefner for the rest of his life!"

I laugh in surprise. "Hugh Hefner?"

Elliott groans, but he says nothing as his mother starts to talk again. "Exactly! But now I don't need to worry about that because he has you now. Oh, you have to come to Isabel's show tonight! I can't wait to meet you!"

"Show?" I ask Mrs. Anthony, while shooting Elliott a terrified look.

Hearing the word, Elliott's eyes snap upwards to meet mine and he frantically motions with his hands for me to pass his cell to him. I do as I'm told and throw the handset at him like it's a Chihuahua about to attack me. "Mom," Elliott's voice is stern as he speaks. "I already told you, we can't make it to Isabel's show. No, because we're on a date! Look-" Elliott's eyes go wide at whatever his mother says to him. Suddenly his whole body slumps into the driver's seat and he rubs a hand over his face. "Yes, I understand. Yes, I'll be there. Yes, I promise. Okay, I have to go now. See you in a half hour. Bye."

"We're going to the show, aren't we?" I ask, although I can already guess the answer. When Elliott shoots me an apologetic glance from the corner of his eye, I send him a reassuring one in return. "Here's the plan- we arrive a little late, sneak in at the back, watch the show and duck out before your mom even sees us. Deal?"

Elliott laughs. "Deal."

The radio played as Elliott drove us back to Easton. I could see Elliott's lips twitching with each new song that played, his fingers drumming again after wheel to the beat of the music. From the steady rhythm he kept, I took a guess that Elliott's a drummer but I was having too much fun watching him twitch to ask him if he played. It was obvious that he was self-conscious about singing in front of me after I told him earlier that he had a good voice but I liked his singing. I was itching to hear his voice, which is the only reason I can give for why I did what I did.