“Really, Mia?” She scrunches up her face. “You’re going to bring him up on Christmas Eve?”
“Him? You say that like he’s some type of stranger. He’s my older brother, and he also happens to be your son.”
“No, he was your brother. He made the decision to be a social deviant and turn his back on us. Until he makes some major changes to his personal psyche, he’s not welcome here.”
“His ‘personal psyche’? It’s been four years.”
“Well, let’s try to make it four more years and see if he’ll finally come to his senses.”
“Mom—”
“Now is not the time, Mia. We have guests. We can discuss this in private later.”
“You don’t really mean that.”
“Of course, I don’t.” She picks up a stick of butter “So, can we please focus on having a nice holiday with the people who actually cared enough to show up tonight, please?” She walks out of the kitchen.
I pull a plate out of the cabinet and load it with food, walking up the back staircase and locking myself in my room. I know she won’t come up here and ask me to come down. She’d never cause a scene.
I devour my dinner, put on my headphones, and shut my eyes—swearing to God that I’ll get the hell away from her the second I graduate.
***
I’ve slept through the eggnog making, the family home-video-watch marathon, and the “You can open one gift before midnight” tradition. It’s the middle of the night and all of my aunts and cousins are tucked away in guest rooms, while my mother speaks to one of her most anxiety prone clients in her home office.
I tiptoe downstairs to get a piece of cheesecake and then I come right back, burying myself beneath my blankets again.
Just as I’ve gotten the blanket to cover my feet at exactly the right angle, my phone buzzes with a text. Dean.
DEAN: Merry Christmas. Are you awake right now?
MIA: Merry Christmas. Nope.
DEAN: Good. I need you to go somewhere with me. (I also have a present for you...)
I look at the time and rub my eyes, knowing he can’t be serious right now.
MIA: It’s 1:00 in the morning! What could possibly be open at this hour? (What type of present? And hey...you totally stole this from Autumn...)
DEAN: The swimming pool at the country club by my house. (I’ll show it to you when I see you...And yeah, I did. It’s actually quite useful. :-) )
DEAN: How long will it take you to get ready?
MIA: Whoa, whoa, whoa. You want us to go swimming in the WINTER?!
MIA: Fifteen minutes :-)
DEAN: It’s an indoor pool :-) I’m around the corner already. Let me know when you want me to drive over and get you.
I lay in bed for a few seconds longer, soaking up the last few moments of my perfect blanket warmth. I want to message something else sarcastic to Dean, but before I get the chance, another text from him comes through.
DEAN: Yes. I expect you to swim with me.
I smile and get up, searching for my swimsuit. When I locate it, I quickly undress and put it on, but there’s no way I can wear this out with him. It’s an ugly brown one piece with faded red polka dots and he might take one look at it and volunteer to bring me right back home.
Ugh...
I slip out of my room and quietly step down the hall to my mother’s room. I find a box full of her many unopened bikinis from her incessant shopping days, and take out two: A red and a black one.
Returning to my room, I put on the red one and after one glance in the mirror, I immediately take it off.
Too much cleavage. Gives the wrong impression.
I try on the black one and it’s even worse. There’s pushup material in the bottom of the top and it makes my C cups look like Ds. Before I consider telling Dean that I won’t be coming, I can practically hear Autumn’s voice in my head.
“It’s a bikini, Mia. Showing off your body is like, the whole point.”
I put on a long-sleeved T-shirt, a hoodie, and a coat. Then I send a quick text to Autumn, letting her know where I’ll be, just in case something happens.
DEAN: Do I need to come to your front door?
MIA: No! I’ll be coming out of the dining room window. Do not park in the driveway!
DEAN: You have to sneak out?
MIA: Clearly. Park your car up the street.
A few minutes later, I head downstairs and into the dining room. I shut the French doors so no one will hear me opening the window. When I’m sure all is clear, I push up the glass and slowly climb outside.
When I’m all the way out and have secured the glass again, I see Dean laughing and standing exactly where I told him not to be.
“How old are you? Do you really have to sneak out?” He laughs. “You’re eighteen and your mom apparently likes me. Was that really necessary?”
“It’s still one o’clock in the morning, Dean. I don’t think any mom would be okay with that.”
“Maybe not.” He pulls me against his side and walks me to the passenger side of his car. “Am I going to have to do that every time I want to take you out?”
“No, just after midnight.” I smile.
He shuts my door and we fall into our familiar, comfortable silence as he drives. I spot a small red, shiny box on his dashboard and assume that’s my gift, but I don’t say anything about it.
Half an hour later, he pulls into an empty parking lot of what appears to be a country club.
“What are we doing here?” I ask. I was expecting a hotel pool, or something less illegal.
“I used to lifeguard here over the summer. The members get to come and go as they please.”
“Okay, but you’re not a member.”
“No, but my dad is.” He puts the car in park and grabs the red gift off the dashboard, handing it to me. “Open it.”
“Not until I give you yours,” I say. “I left it in my closet.”
“Open it, Mia.” He kisses me. “Now.”
I hesitate, but I oblige. I slowly pull at the ribbon and let it fall into my lap before unwrapping the box. I look at him before flipping the lid open and smile when I see what’s inside.
It’s a silver necklace with three charms: A guitar, a paintbrush, and a car. Beneath that are three black, spiral notebooks with a post-it note on top: “To make up for the one I “stole” –Merry Christmas, Mia. –Dean.
I run my fingers along the charms and look into his eyes. “Thank you very much.”
He takes the necklace from my hands and motions for me to lean closer so he can put it on for me. He holds it up to me, but he kisses my neck and softly bites my skin before he even attempts to clasp it.
“There...” He secures it and runs his fingers against the car charm before getting out of the car.
As a slight snow falls over us, he pulls me close and leads me to the back entrance of the club.
It takes him a minute to get his dad’s keycard to work, but when the door finally gives way, he pushes me inside first.
My jaw drops as I take in the lobby.
The place doesn’t look like anything that belongs in our small town. The floors in the lobby are a sparkling white marble and two massive fireplaces are ablaze, giving a slight glow to the space.
Dean takes my hand and shows me past the dining hall, wine bar, gymnasium, and spa. He swipes his key at a set of double glass doors and when they swing open, I find myself in front of one of the largest pools I’ve ever seen.
A light steam is rising from its depths, and the colossal floor to ceiling windows that surround the room, are slightly foggy from the heat.
Dean lets my hand go and starts to undress, but I just stand there, looking around.
I look around the room for cameras, but I don’t see any. Still, I step back from the edge of the pool.
“Are you going to join me?” Dean asks as he gets in the pool, wearing only his swim trunks.
“What if security comes?”
“We’ll say hello.” He smiles. “I doubt they will, though.”
“I don’t know about this...” I take another step back.