Copyright 2019 by Ashley Elston
Designed by Mary Claire Cruz
Cover design by Mary Claire Cruz and Jamie Alloy
Photographs of girl and balloons by Michael Frost
Background photograph by Di Studio/Shutterstock
Mistletoe photograph by F.Schmidt/Shutterstock
Heart balloon photograph by Dmitry Lobanov/Shutterstock
Confetti by HNK/Shutterstock
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ISBN 978-1-368-04427-1
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For my husband, Dean, who I met on a blind date on Valentines Day in 1992
and
For my brother and first cousins, Jordan, Steve, Todd, Matt, Beth, Gabe, Katie, Jeremy, Anna Marie, Sarabeth, Jessica, Rebecca, Mary Hannah, Emily, India, Katherine, Madeline, Haley, Amiss, Rimes, and John. Thank you for making my childhood magical.
Are you sure you wont come with us?
Mom hangs out of the passenger window and wraps me in a fierce hug for the tenth time in the last ten minutes. The pleading tone in her voice is doing its job. Im an inch away from the first bit of freedom Ive ever known, yet Im only seconds from caving and jumping into the backseat. I hug her back, tighter than usual.
Dad leans forward, his face washed in the soft blue light from the dash. Sophie, we really hate leaving you here for Christmas. Whos going to make sure I get those fork marks in the peanut butter cookies just right? Not sure if I can be trusted to do it alone.
I laugh and duck my head. Im sure, I say. And I am. This saying good-bye part is hard, but theres no way I can suffer through the next week and a half at Margots house staring at bloated appendages.
My parents are driving to Breaux Bridge, a small town in south Louisiana a little less than four hours away, to be with my sister and her husband. Margot is six weeks away from having her first baby, and shes developed superimposed preeclampsia, whatever that means. All I know is that its made her feet swell to ridiculous sizes. And I know this because Margot is so bored out of her mind while shes been stuck in her bed that shes sent me pics of them from every conceivable angle.
Its not like Im going to be by myself, I continue. Ill have Nonna and Papa and the other twenty-five members of our family to keep me company.
Dad rolls his eyes and mutters, Dont know why they all have to hang out in one house all the time.
Mom pokes him in the ribs. The size of our extended family is no joke. Mom is one of eight, and pretty much all of her siblings have several kids of their own. My grandparents house is always full of people, but around the holidays it turns into Grand Central station. Beds and spots at the table are awarded based on age, so when my cousins and I were younger we always spent Christmas Eve stuffed into one big pallet on the floor of the den like sardines, and every meal was a balancing act between your plate, your red Solo cup, and your lap.
Are you sure you dont want to stay with Lisa? Itll be quieter at her house, Mom suggests.
Im sure. Ill be fine at Nonna and Papas.
It would be a lot quieter at my aunt Lisas. Shes Moms twin, older by three minutes, but because of that she watches me as closely as Mom does. And thats not what Im looking for. Im looking for a little freedom. And some alone time with Griffin. Both are in short supply when you live in a small town and your dad is the chief of police.
Okay. Dad and I should be back the afternoon of Nonnas birthday party. Well open presents then. Mom fidgets around in the front seat, clearly not ready to leave. I mean, if Brads parents werent already going to be there, we wouldnt have to go. You know how his mom always tries to rearrange Margots kitchen and move her furniture around. I dont want Margot all worked up, wondering what that woman is doing while shes stuck in bed.
And God forbid, his parents take care of your daughter, I tease. Mom is overly protective of her children. All Margot had to do was mention that her husbands parents were coming in and Mom started packing her bags.
We could wait and go in the morning, Mom suggests to Dad.
Dads shaking his head before she finishes. Well make better time if we drive tonight. Tomorrow is the Saturday before Christmas. The roads will be a nightmare. He leans forward once more, meeting my gaze. Get your stuff and head straight to your grandparents. Call them to let them know youre on the way.
Thats my dad all business. This is the first time in years Dad will be away from the station for more than a few days.
I will. One more hug from Mom, and I blow a kiss to Dad. Then theyre gone.
The glowing red taillights of my parents SUV disappear down the road, and a flood of emotions rolls through me thrilling anticipation, but also an ache that settles deep in my belly. I do my best to shake it off. Its not that I dont want to be with them just thinking about waking up on Christmas morning without my parents has my stomach twisting in knots but I just cant spend my entire break trapped in Margot and Brads tiny apartment.
Once Im back in my room, the first thing I do is call Nonna to tell her Ill be there in a few hours. Shes distracted; I can hear the customers at the flower shop she owns talking loudly in the background, and can guess shes only hearing about every third word I say.
Drive carefully, sweetheart, she says. As shes hanging up, I can hear her shouting poinsettia prices at Randy in the greenhouse, and I smother a grin.
Its six oclock, and its just a short drive from Minden to Shreveport, where my grandparents and the rest of my family live. Nonna wont look for me until around ten.
Four glorious hours to myself.
I fall back on my bed and stare at my slowly turning ceiling fan. Even though Im seventeen, my parents dont like for me to stay home alone. And when I do manage to pull it off, theres usually a parade of deputies doing drive-bysjust to check on things. Its all sorts of ridiculous.
Feeling around on the bed for my phone, I call Griffin to let him know Ill be staying, but after eight rings it goes to voice mail. I send him a text, then wait for those three little dots to appear. I hadnt told him I was trying to convince my parents to let me stay no reason for both of us to be disappointed if it didnt work out.
I stare at the blank screen for another few seconds, then throw the phone down on the bed and move to my desk. Theres a clutter of makeup and colored pencils and nail polish bottles scattered across the surface. Almost every inch of the bulletin board hanging on the wall in front of me showcases crisp white index cards for each college Im considering. Theres a color-coded list of pros (green) and cons (red) on each card, plus all of the application requirements per school. A few sport a big green checkmark, meaning Ive already met every requirement and been accepted, but most Im still waiting to hear from. I call this my Inspiration Board, but Mom calls it my Obsession Board.
My eyes move to the first card I tacked up at the beginning of freshman year LSU. Once upon a time, I thought it was the only school that would make the board. But then I realized I needed to keep my options open.
My phone dings and I glance back toward the bed. Its just a notification that someone liked my last post not Griffin texting me back.
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