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“The usual,” Jonathan said, his mouth full.
“Which is?” Phoebe was desperate for details, as she always was with her Christmas-celebrating friends. She’d never been part of a family Christmas gathering—and yes, her family certainly went big for Hanukkah, but Christmas always sounded so cozy and festive. Like a scene from a Netflix special.
“Well.” Jonathan wiped the crumbs from his mouth. “On Christmas Eve, we have a big dinner. Usually ham with mashed potatoes, green-bean casserole, Parker House rolls…”
“Wait. That sounds like Thanksgiving. With ham. You get two Thanksgivings? No fair.”
Jonathan nodded and shrugged as though he hadn’t just blown Phoebe’s mind. “And my family always dresses up. ‘Christmas formal,’ my mom calls it.”
“Does that mean, like, red and green?”
“Usually the guys wear suits and the girls wear dresses in some form of red or green.”
Phoebe sipped her coffee, motioning for him to continue.
“Then, on Christmas morning—”
“Hold on. What about the cookies for Santa? Do you do that?”
“Oh yeah. I mean, usually the younger kids do.”
“Who bakes the cookies? Or are they store-bought? Do you leave milk out, too?”
“Usually my mom bakes them. Chocolate chip. We used to leave milk out before we got Eddie, but he’s weirdly obsessed with milk. He doesn’t touch the cookies, though.”
Phoebe remembered seeing pictures of Eddie, the golden retriever who had been adopted by Jonathan’s family when he was a senior in high school. Seriously, could this family get any more wholesome?
“Okay, so, Christmas morning,” Phoebe prompted.
“We open presents.”
Phoebe finished her scone and shook her head. “No, no. How does it work? Does everyone watch each person open gifts, or do you open them all at once? Is there a dress code for this part?”
“We go one at a time, starting with the youngest person. And yes. We wear pajamas.”
There was a long pause. “Christmas pajamas?”
Jonathan nodded. Phoebe whooped with delight.
“This sounds so cozy. What about midnight Mass? Or Christmas lunch? Or snowball fights?”
“No Mass—we’re Protestant, not Catholic. Yes, Christmas lunch. No snowball fights because, obviously, we live in Florida.”
“Right. Do you eat ham for lunch, too?”
“Usually it’s leftovers turned into sandwiches.”
“Got it.” It was adorably festive, just as she’d hoped. She knew Jonathan had only one sister, but they had a lot of cousins.
“Does your sister have kids now?”
He nodded. “Henry and Charlotte. They’re four and six.”
“Uncle Jonathan. I bet you’re a fun uncle.”
“I try. They live here, though, so I only see them a couple times a year. But I always get them the best gifts, so they love me.”
The table in front of them was strewn with crumbs, their coffee mugs empty. Phoebe knew Jonathan wasn’t about to invite her to join his family’s festivities, but she allowed herself to imagine it. Oh, she knew she had thrown a stick of dynamite at their friendship all those years ago. She knew she had no claim over Jonathan now, and there was absolutely no way he would invite her to his family’s gathering. But it sure would be nice if she could earn his forgiveness. If she could take a magic eraser to everything that had gone wrong and they could be their old selves again.
