Page 50 of Imaginary Lines

Page 50

  I stared at him.

  He tapped my cheek. “Are you still in shock?”

  “What colors?”

  He frowned.

  “For the wedding,” I clarified. “Which our mothers are planning right now. ”

  He grinned slowly. “Red, black, and gold. ”

  That snapped me out of my shock enough to frown at him. “You can’t have the Leopards colors as your wedding theme. ”

  He raised a brow. “Why not? You asked for my input. They’re my favorite colors. ”

  I rolled my eyes again, because if I was regressing, I might as well do it one hundred percent. “We’re not actually planning a wedding, doofus. ”

  “Aren’t we?” he asked lightly.

  Oh my God, what? What just happened there?

  He took my hand. “Come on. Let’s go see if there’s more pie. ”

  Pie? How could he switch topics so easily? “Aren’t you full yet?” I asked helplessly.

  “Never,” he swore.

  “Are you ready to face them?”

  He looked thoughtful for a moment. “You know, I have no problem charging straight at a two-hundred-pound player and flying through the air, but facing our mothers is a little more daunting. ”

  I laughed. “Good thing you have a good teammate. ”

  He kissed me fiercely. “The best. ”

  * * *

  For the most part, we got away without too much interrogation during dessert, but I was pretty sure that was because someone had made the universal declaration that we were to be left alone. Everyone kept sneaking peaks at us, though, especially the moms.

  And everyone definitely stared when we said good night. Abe brushed his lips over mine, I turned bright red, and everyone under fifteen started giggling.

  And a few over, too.

  As we walked the ten minutes home, Mom couldn’t restrain her dazed remarks. “You’re dating Abe. ”

  “Yup. ” I glanced over at my dad, who hadn’t said much about it, but who grinned widely.

  “You. ” Mom still sounded floored. “And Abe. ” Like she might float away, in fact. “I don’t believe it. ”

  “Well. It’s happening. Why don’t you believe it?”

  She sounded far away. “You and Abe. Oh my God. ” Then she snapped out of her daze and her voice intensified. “Are you going to get married?”

  “Mom!” I glared at her. I knew this would happen. “No, we’re not. ”

  “You’re going to get married,” she said dreamily. “Sharon will be so excited. ”

  “We’re just dating,” I said loudly, like there was the slightest possibility I could drown out her fantasies. “We’re relaxed. Taking it slow. ”

  “Sharon and I used to talk about this when we were pregnant together and she found out she was having a boy and I was having a girl. . . ”

  “Mom!” I danced in front of her and waved frantically. “Stop it! Snap out of it!”

  She raised her hands. “Snapped. ” But then her face did that melty thing again. “You two look so good together. How did it happen?”

  I glanced at her. I didn’t usually talk about my romantic life with my mom, but she looked so happy that it seemed cruel to deny her a few details.

  So after we got home, we curled in the living room and I spent an hour talking to her about Abe. Dad graciously disappeared for most of it, but right before I headed to bed, he stopped me and asked in a gruff, almost embarrassed voice. “Are you happy?”

  He was sweet. I smiled at him. “I am. ”

  When I finally said good night and ducked into my bedroom, I was only there ten minutes before I heard a tap on my window.

  I spun around. Abe stood outside.

  My mouth fell open and I pulled open my window. I tried to whisper fiercely, though I couldn’t work up much indignation, and my lips tugged up. “What are you doing here?”

  He grinned. “But soft! What light?”

  Now I pushed the screen aside. “But seriously. This is ridiculous. ”

  He touched my cheek. “Going for four days without you is ridiculous. ”

  My lips twitched. “You’re not going to fit through my window. ”

  But I’d underestimated him. Abe was strong and limber, and able to twist and slide with grace and power that my body couldn’t command. Soon, he was sitting on my bed, and I was trying to cover my fit of giggles. I’d checked three times to make sure my door was locked.

  He dragged me down onto the bed as soon as he’d finished closing the blinds. “Much better,” he murmured after he’d discarded his shirt and lifted off mine. I didn’t respond, just ran my hands over the planes of his chest.

  And then I remembered. “Oh. I called it. ”

  He didn’t stop kissing me, and spoke softly against my skin. “Hmm?”

  “My mom asked if we were getting married. ”

  He laughed silently. “Actually, I think I called it. ”

  “What?”

  He just smiled at me, and then I stopped being able to think when his hands were making me crazy. “Do you promise to stay quiet? Otherwise I’m going to have to stop. ”

  “I promise,” I said immediately.

  And I did. But it wasn’t easy.

  Chapter Twenty

  America turned into a giant Christmas mall after Thanksgiving.

  I liked Christmas. There were sparkly lights and festive trees and those ever-present carols. I liked carols, Rudolph and Frosty and chestnuts roasting on an open fire.

  Hanukkah, festival of lights and holiday of impossible transliteration, had songs more along the lines of being assailed by raging foes and terrible sacrifices. And suffering. Most of our holidays were about the suffering.

  Loved those songs.

  Still, I liked carols and Christmas too, and it never really bothered me unless I was trapped in a mall with the songs on repeat and the tinsel everywhere and the Christmas villages and the relentless advertising. Then I was like, Whoa, calm down, America. Don’t worry, we haven’t forgotten to be consumers. We’re fabulous at consumerism. Wasn’t this a religious holiday once?

  I mean, I guess I’d prefer having people shove merchandise in my face rather than their religion, but still.

  I woke up one week after Thanksgiving to weird sounds and the faint smell of pine needles, and padded out of my room to see Lucy wrestling a small, round tree into the corner. There was some contraption at the bottom, and pine needles everywhere. She saw me looking and beamed. “I got us a tree!”

  Sabeen and Jaz also trailed out into the living room. Jaz lifted her brows. “Uh, you know Tamar’s Jewish and Sabeen’s Muslim, right?”

  Lucy’s face underwent a transformation from joy to surprise to crushed regret. “Oh. ”

  Sabeen glanced at me with one of her lurking smiles. “I’m cool with a tree. ”

  I shrugged, wondering if anyone had made coffee yet. “Me too. ”

  The next day, however, I discreetly place the menorah my temple had mailed me one year at college in the windowsill.

  When Lucy noticed the new addition, she shook her head. “We are so fucking multicultural. ”

  I laughed. “Gold star, team. ”

  Even the office was festive. Staff kept bringing in leftovers from holiday parties, and readers and advertisers and remote employees sent in gift baskets. The holiday party was scheduled for the seventeenth, by which point I was sure I’d have turned into a giant ball of packaged sweets and baked cookies.