The Plight Before Christmas(36)

“Promoted?”

“Yeah, anyway, I will be getting a new one after Christmas.”

Walking away to close the subject, I get into the back of my Dad’s SUV, and Eli appears on the other side. After buckling in, he leans toward me. “So?”

“So what?”

“Can we talk tonight?”

“About?”

“Just…catching up.”

“Haven’t you heard enough?”

“You can’t exactly blame me. After all, I’m just a simple-minded, emotionless ape with basic sexual needs. According to you, I shouldn’t be blamed for listening to such primal talk.”

I roll my eyes but can’t stop my smile. Eli leans in further, and I catch another hit of his alluring scent. I’m convinced his sudden appearance is just another test by karma or fate to see if this is the year I break.

Both are out of luck. Firmly I decide that by the 1st of January, I will have conquered every single demon that’s come to dance, including the one sitting to my right. Doing my best not to inhale the stench of Christmas past next to me, I feel him eyeing my profile as he wordlessly beckons. Unable to escape him due to the confinement, I turn back to meet his goading, icy gaze.

“Come on, Whit, hang with me tonight. Let’s catch up.”

Mom and Dad slip into the car, and Dad turns the engine over, as does the rest of the motorcade.

“I doubt we’ll be able to,” I whisper. “Dads got our holiday agenda mapped out to the minute.”

“Maybe after?”

I keep my tone non-committal. “Maybe.”

“I promise, no monkey business.”

“Cute.”

“I won’t go apeshit on you.”

“Hilarious.”

Once we’re off, my mother sinks into the passenger seat with an exuberant sigh. “You hear that, Allen?”

“What’s that?” Dad asks, eyeing the rearview.

“Nothing. The sound of nothing.” Mom turns back to look at the two of us. “We thought you’d appreciate a kid-free ride, a little silence before the anarchy begins.” She winks, and Dad pulls out of the driveway, mashing the gas and cursing Brenden’s speed ahead of us.

Gazing out the window at the rapidly passing, snow-covered evergreens, I fight the urge to look at Eli and mull over what he could possibly want to talk about. It’s far too late for an apology—the notion itself is ridiculous. If he wants to get along, I’m all for it. Initial shock aside, I’m determined to woman up and just endure this, but anything more than cordial behavior is asking a bit much. Instead of obsessing over it alone, I lift my cell phone to shoot off a text to Alyssa and realize I have zero bars.

“Dad, is there really no cell service here? How have you been sending emails?”

“There is Wi-Fi in the house, but you’re not getting the password. No one is.”

“Seriously, Daddy?”

“December 26th, and not a minute sooner, so if you have emails to send, I suggest you shoot them off in town. You okay with that, Eli?”

“Fine with that, Sir.”

“Call me, Allen.”

“Will do, Allen.”

“Ass-kisser,” I mumble, to which he chuckles in reply. I know for a fact that Eli only has one social media account, LinkedIn, because I have searched a few times over the years. My searches were fruitless, making it clear he never grew out of being an introvert. The shit part is because he is, I was never able to see any recent photos of him. His profile pic was his company logo, which kept the mystery alive. Mystery no more sits next to me now that I know it was a blessing to be in the dark. I was better off not knowing how well he’s taken care of himself, or how incredible he smells, or that my body reacts to him the same way it did when we were in college.

“It’s beautiful here,” Eli remarks as a cluster of overhanging trees give way to a spectacular mountain view, the early morning sun reflecting off the white-tipped branches. “Peaceful.”

Mom turns in her seat. “Being from LA, it must have been something of a culture shock coming out here for college.”

“Actually, I moved to North Carolina when I was thirteen, but yeah, it was a welcome one. Chicago was great for a while, but I like it out here much more.”

“It’s God’s country, isn’t it, sweetheart?” Mom replies. “My Dad always said so.”

Momentarily stunned by her term of endearment, Eli manages to speak up. “It is. So, what are the rules of mystery Rudolph?”

“Pardon?” Mom asks, confused by his abrupt change of subject.

Family was—and seems still is—his favorite topic to evade, future talk a close second. He successfully sidestepped both with me for the entirety of the time we dated. Which, in turn, inevitably broke us up. After, I realized I was subliminally trained in the beginning not to ask. Though we were intimate and at times felt as close as two people could be, after we parted, I realized I only ever knew the Eli of 2004 and was left mostly in the dark about the twenty-one years of life he lived before me.

Mom takes Eli’s cue. “Basically, it’s what Gracie told you, you buy for the person you chose to show how well you know them, but in your case, anything will do. The price limit is twenty dollars.” Her smile widens. “I can’t wait to see what Brenden buys this year.”