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“Girlfriend?” I ask, ping-ponging between the two of them.
Parker gives me a devilish smirk. “You didn’t know about Clarissa’s college phase?”
“Shut up,” Clarissa rolls her eyes. “That’s one hundred percent not true.”
“Awww, look at him,” Parker says, studying my expression. “I think you just shot down his little elf’s hopes.”
“You have a little elf?” Dante asks.
“Yeah, bud. But he’s hiding. He’s afraid of Parker because she likes to play target practice with him.”
“You want to shoot Troy’s little elf? That’s not nice, Auntie Parker.” Dante scolds.
Parker glares at me, and I reply with a slow wink.
“Which girlfriend means,” Clarissa says, giving us both warning looks, “that my dad was a fan of variety.”
“You and your little elf know all about that, don’t you, Troy?” Parker adds smartly before she hiccups.
I roll my eyes. “Parker, go choke on a reindeer—”
Dante speaks up, schooling us both. “Y’all are interrupting Mommy, and that’s rude.”
“Get ‘em, baby,” Clarissa beams with pride.
Parker stands and takes my cup. “Sorry, Troy. Allow me to get you some more.”
“Sure, thanks.” I turn to Clarissa. “So, the girlfriends?”
“Forget it,” Clarissa says, shaking her head.
I move toward her and grab the lights she’s trying to separate and nudge her shoulder. “Tell me.”
She glances up at the tree as I study her exposed neck. “My dad loved a woman who knew her way around the kitchen, and when they stuck around, meaning for more than a few weeks, they’d show me how to cook. So that eggnog recipe came from Beth. She was in interior design.”
“So, what are we having tonight?” I ask.
“Carol’s Goulash. She was an ex-con turned church secretary from Jersey, who gave up her criminal ways for Jesus and was determined to save my father and me from eternal damnation.”
“What’s eternal damnation?” Dante asks.
“Parker’s cooking,” Clarissa jokes.
“Oh, shut it,” Parker says through a hiccup.
“Sorry, it’s the truth. When we lived together, you burnt broth.”
“That was a ploy to get you to cook for me, sucker!”
“Goulash, huh? Never had it.”
“It’s sooo good.” Dante gives me big eyes. “You will love it.”
“Can’t wait.” I lift the lid off a new box, my chest tightening when I see it’s a mix of Dante’s baby ornaments. I pull them out, studying them carefully, sensing Clarissa’s eyes on me.
“That was last year.” She lifts an ornament, unwrapping it from the tissue. “And this one was his first.”
We both chuckle as I hold it up.
