We brave our way through the heavy rain that I somehow expected to be warm. But it’s winter, so of course it’s not. It’s freezing. My pants are wet up to my knees from water splashing up with each step.
“I’m going to change,” I tell Eli once we get inside. “You want to borrow something dry?”
Eli pulls a pair of sweatpants and socks from his backpack. “Figured we might get a little wet.”
Mom is working on her list in the kitchen again when we peek in, making meal plans. She’ll be doing her big grocery shop later next week, and I know she’ll go all out. One, it’s Christmas. Two, her brother will be here. She always gets competitive with him, and lording it over him that she can cook better than just about anyone is her favorite way to crush him. She looks us over. “You could have asked for a ride.”
Eli’s eyebrows press closer. “Then you would have gotten wet, getting into the car.”
“No point in all of us getting rained on,” I say.
“The two of you . . .” Mom says, shaking her head with a reluctant smile. “Want some hot chocolate to warm up?”
We tell her that sounds great and Eli changes in the bathroom I share with Janet while I change in my room. Minutes later we sit on the couch with steaming mugs sheltered between our hands.
Eli lifts one brow when I sigh. “What can possibly be bothering you?”
“It doesn’t feel Christmas-y.”
He stands and turns on the lights on the tree in the corner of the room. “Better?”
“Marginally.” I straighten. “I know! Have you seen the movieWhiteChristmas?”
Eli exhales a trace of a laugh. “You know, watching that movie is one of the only things I’ve willingly done with my uncle. He says it’s a classic that should be watched every year. I agree.”
I set my cocoa down. “If you’ve already watched it, we can pick something else.”
“He likes to watch it Christmas Eve. I’m happy to watch it twice.”
I grin and pull out our movie binder, find the disc, and set it up. I’ll probably watch it again, too. Mom loves it.
Eli and I settle back on the couch, a blanket curled around us. Widget walks over and hops up, and for such a small dog, he does a great job spreading out to lie on both of our laps.
“Did you ever think about dancing like that?” Eli asks after the scene where Danny Kaye and Vera-Ellen dance together for the first time.
“You asking me to dance with you?”
He scoffs. “God no. It’s probably a stupid thought, with how clumsy you are, but some of the time it seems like clumsiness is built into the dancing they do. Like they’re not worried about falling. You do have a raw athleticism. I think you’d either dance like that really well, or you’d break your leg. No in-between.”
I pause the movie, pick up my snoring pup and lay him down on my discarded blanket on my warm spot on the couch (so he doesn’t seem to mind being moved), and hold my hand out to Eli.
He chuckles. “Nope.”
“Oh, come on! We have to try it now!”
“I don’t twirl.”
I take his hand. “Dance with me, Elliot.”
His fingers fold over mine and he sighs as he lets me pull him to his feet. I snake my other hand across his back and grab his free hand, stepping close so his back is to my chest. I sway side to side and move slowly, releasing one hand and spinning myself out so we’re in a line.
“Go ahead,” I whisper. “Pull me in.”
He raises the hand still connected to mine, and with the same exaggerated slowness I rotate until I reach his chest.
Our eyes meet. Eli’s voice roughens. “That wasn’t so bad.”
I lean in and brush my lips to his, then pull back and spin out again. “We’re not done.”
