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“Uh, Stella? World’s Best Dad is calling your phone,” said Kate a couple of hours later.
“I didn’t name him that. He named himself that.”
“But you didn’t change it,” said Kate.
I stuck my tongue out and picked up my phone. “I need to change your contact name in my phone,” I said to Dad. “Kate thinks it’s weird.”
“Can I be Batman?” Dad asked eagerly.
“No.”
“Okay, fine. Commissioner Gordon?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of Annoying Old Guy.”
“How about The Spirit of Christmas Present? Because you know what I’m going to say next.”
“That you want me to come over and help decorate on December first,” I said with resignation.
“You got it in one, kiddo!”
“Of course I’ll be there, Dad. Assuming you come up here and fetch me.”
“Good. Bring Dean.”
“I am not bringing Dean.” The thought filled me with horror.
“Come on. We’ve been wanting to invite him for dinner anyway. It’s a marvellous opportunity.”
“For you.”
“What’s your point?”
“I don’t know.”
“If you don’t ask him, I will,” said Dad.
“You don’t have his number!”
“Oh, please. That kid selfies himself all over social media with absolutely no regard for privacy. I could contact him by accident from my pants pocket.”
“Ugh. Fine. I’ll ask him.”
******
TO MY RELIEF, DEAN couldn’t come to Dad’s Christmas Binge.
“Wish I could babe,” he had said with what looked like genuine regret. “But I’ve got like three projects due this week and I don’t know if I can spare the time.”
“No problem,” I said hurriedly. “Really not a problem. Consider yourself lucky. Dad is obsessed with Christmas. It’s going to look like Santa’s workshop in our house by the time he’s done, and then he and Mom will make out under the mistletoe for an embarrassing length of time.”
“Sorry to miss that,” Dean said with a wink. “Seriously, if I didn’t have a project due the very next day...”
“No, it’s really really okay,” I had reassured him, and I meant it. Walking into my parents’ house was always a bit of an emotion-bomb. I met Howie the day after we moved into the place, so the majority of my time spent there had involved Howie. He haunted the damn place. When I walked into their kitchen I could see him washing the dishes with the dishtowel slung over his shoulder. When I went to the living room I saw the two of us cuddling on the couch.
It messed me up.
What’s worse — I think my parents knew it. I could see them watching me whenever I came in. So I usually made them take me out for meals instead of coming home and they never argued. I hadn’t been home in over a month. But December first was sacrosanct for Dad, so I knew there was no escaping it.
Dad picked me up at my place. As soon as we walked in the door, he threw a box full of decorations at me and pointed me into the living room. I tried to focus on spreading garlands all over the damn room, but I couldn’t help but see Howie. Every memory stung me. Until Howie and I broke up, I had never known that heartache was a real thing, not just a turn of phrase. And lately, finally, I had been free of it. Kung fu and Kate and Dean and my classes all kept me busy.
But now here I was, standing in my damn living room, holding a stupid silver garland and feeling deeply depressed.
Maybe I should have pushed Dean to come after all.
“So,” Dad said, nudging me and taking the other end of the garland. “Now that I have you at home, in private, I can ask you the question that has been driving your mother and I crazy.”
Uh oh. “What?” I said sullenly as we wound the garland up the banister.
“What the hell is going on with the zombie murders? Your mother tried to call Hunt but she wouldn’t tell us anything. Have you heard from The Cervix at all?”
“I called Hunt,” I said. “But she wouldn’t tell me anything. She was kind of short with me, actually.”
“Hunt? Short with someone? Tell me it ain’t so,” said Mom from the couch.
“Feel free to jump in and help any time, Lainey,” said Dad.
“I’ll think about it. But it’s so hard to get up... when my egg nog is running so low...”
“On it,” said Dad, hopping down the stairs. “While I’m in there, remind me to hang up the mistletoe.”
“Well... if I had more egg nog... I might be able to go that far...”
“Oh God,” I said. “I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be back.”
I called Dean from the bathroom.
“Please come save me,” I whispered. “I know you have work to do, and you don’t have to stay long. Just, like, get me out of here.”
“Sure thing, babe. I can spare an hour. I’m going shack wacky here anyway.”
“Time it right and they’ll feed you.”
“Two birds, one stone. I love it. What’s the address?”
******
DEAN SHOWED UP RIGHT on time. My parents were kissing under the newly hung mistletoe and I was ignoring them and hanging up lights and working on definitely not remembering Howie kissing me there last year. He had pulled me in so gently, and kissed me so tenderly... Oh God. That was a year ago. I had a new boyfriend. What was wrong with me?
Then the doorbell rang, and Dad opened the door.
“Dean!” he said. “What a surprise! Come on in, please!”
Dean grinned and stepped in. I tried to warn him but Dad swooped in before I could get the words out and kissed Dean on the cheek.
“Mistletoe,” Dad explained, pointing up.
Dean looked up. “Oh!” he said. Then he grabbed Dad and planted a big one right on Dad’s lips. Dad started laughing and slapped his thighs.
“I love it!” he said. “Come in and have some egg nog. Did you drive?”
Dean nodded.
“I’ll make it a virgin, then.”
“Great,” said Dean. He reached out to me and winked. “Hey, babe.”
“Thanks,” I whispered to him.
“No problem,” he said. “Now give me a smooch.”
I had been hoping that Dean’s buoyant presence would banish Howie’s ghost. And it did, in a way. But not entirely. Dean kissed me under the mistletoe, but part of me was wondering if Howie was nearby, and if so, what he was thinking right now.