The Holiday Switch(48)

“Great! It’s a plan.” Carm thumbs her phone with one hand. “Teddy, give me your number and I can add you to my contacts.”

While Teddy relays his number, and I’m thinking of all the ways I can torture Carm for her treachery, the squeal of the karaoke speaker catches our attention.

“Hello, hello,” Graham says into the microphone. He inserts a disk into the machine.

Oh no.

Next to me, Teddy and Carm sit up straighter.

One by one, the adults bring their chairs to the living room and take a seat, each with a drink in their hand.

“As soon as Tita Lou said there would be karaoke, I was like, I can’t wait,” Teddy says.

“Get your lungs ready, Teddy, because this is when you get to show your stuff,” Carm adds.

I press the cold cup of cider against my cheek. Ghost of Christmas Future, help me.



* * *





I’m surprised we’re not visited by a neighbor complaining of a noise disturbance—we are that loud.

Correction, Teddy is that loud. He’s front and center in my living room, singing “Footloose” and running in place.

“Is he high?” I say aloud, practically screaming, though only Carm has a chance of hearing me. Have I said the place is loud?

“He’s just having fun!”

The music changes, and it’s a duet. “Summer Nights” from the movie Grease.

    I giggle. “Here we go.”

As predicted, Mom and Dad leap to their feet like they’ve been waiting for this song all their lives. They both grab mics. Dad practices his scales.

The sofa whooshes next to me as Teddy sits. “I haven’t done that in forever. Why haven’t you gone up?”

“Don’t you worry,” I laugh. “No one gets away unscathed.”

“This is so much fun. Dang,” he says. “Are you guys always like this?”

“Chaotic?”

“Festive.” His expression is open, almost vulnerable, and for a moment the rest of the room fades away. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I avert my eyes. “What way?” But what I don’t say is that, once again, Teddy has surprised me. Who knew he was a karaoke lover?

A cackle distracts him, thank goodness, and he turns his attention to his aunt, who’s three sheets to the wind from sugar and is laughing so hard with Carm’s parents that she’s wiping away tears. “I have never seen Tita Lou this happy.”

“You should hear her when she sings ‘I Did It My Way.’ She can hit those notes.”

The house phone rings, and heads turn. “I’ll get it!” Mom leaves the stage, aka in front of the television, and rushes to the kitchen. “Arturo, it’s Tatang. He has a question! Sorry, guys, give us a few minutes!”

“My lolo Bob,” I explain to Carm and Teddy. “In Manila.”

As Dad passes us, he tosses the microphones into my and Teddy’s laps. “Don’t waste a perfectly good song.” To Teddy he says, “Lila has a beautiful voice. She knows this song inside and out.”

“Dad!”

    But Dad has already pulled me to my feet. Carm cackles. Teddy saunters his way to the front.

There’s no way of getting out of this. Not only have I been instructed to sing, but now everyone’s expecting a performance. Irene is grinning like the devil she is—she better not record any of this, I swear.

But when Teddy sings the first line, with a grin on his face, I can’t help but get into it. My body goes on autopilot. At first, my voice shakes from nervousness; it has less to do with karaoke and more to do with Teddy, who is raising the bar of this weird friendship. He’s looking right into my eyes. He sways in time to the beat. Then he flips up the collar of his button-down like Danny himself, and winks.

Is it real? Is it fake? Is he simply swept up with the karaoke?

It doesn’t matter, because I swoon for real, saved only by the next line of the song. For this moment, I believe him. Like I’m the girl he fell for over one summer.

Even if we are in the middle of the snow-covered Finger Lakes region at Christmastime.





MONDAY, DECEMBER 27

“Ooooh! We’re almost there!” Carm says next to me. She claps her mittens together, squealing, way more excited than the kids of the family in line in front of us. We’re about five feet away from the entrance of Santa’s cottage.

Apparently, Santa loves Holly so much that he spends an extra couple of days with us, and taking a picture with him is tenth on the list of things to do in Holly.

If only it wasn’t nine in the morning.

My eyelids are heavy from the long night. The last of our guests, Ms. Velasco and Teddy, didn’t leave until after midnight. So I squint at the bright but deceiving sky, a popsicle under three layers of clothing.

“I can’t believe people do this every year,” I say. “I’ve seen the line snake around the town square.”

“I know. So count your Christmas blessings that most everyone is still tucked in their bed. Oh yay!” Carm’s hand shoots up. “Over here, guys!”

    After a slew of apologies from familiar low voices, KC appears with who I assume is Seb. They’re holding hands, and KC is positively beaming.