Page 30 of Meet Me on Mistletoe Lane

Later that evening, Leo, Sam, and I fixed ourselves ice cream bowls covered in everything from Twizzlers to gummy bears to M&M’s before we settled into the old sofa in the den for our annual viewing of what was my dad’s favorite holiday movie: Home Alone. Our cabin was one of the smallest on the block, but every room had something that represented one of us. Leo’s action figures and framed puzzles took over the den; Mom’s unsold artwork and sculptures lined the living room, breakfast nook, and kitchen; and the framed maps Dad and I had used to chart our future adventures climbed the stairs, eventually connecting with my room. With three different Christmas trees, a candy cane village, and plenty of candles, some would call it “cluttered.”

But I called it cozy.

“Is your mom working late?” Sam asked me, pulling a familiar, worn book out of his back pocket and placing it on the table, as we settled into the sofa and turned on the TV.

“Fellowship again? Really?” I took a gummy bear off his ice cream before he could stop me.

“It’s Christmas.” He snatched one off mine. “Tradition. You know that.”

“Isn’t that, like, a really old copy?” I asked. “Shouldn’t you keep that locked in a special case or something?”

He held it up and sniffed it, smiling. “And miss this smell? I don’t think so.”

Far be it from me to get between a man and his books. “Mom said she ‘couldn’t stop’ yet,” I told him, explaining her absence. Which I got. Sometimes when I was writing, I’d get in this rhythm and the last thing I wanted to do was stop.

But Leo had hoped she’d be here for this movie.

So had I, honestly.

Leo hurried in last with several Oreo cookies forming a pyramid on the top of his already smothered ice cream and squeezed himself between Sam and me. I hit play and smiled at the familiar opening credits and one of my favorite John Williams pieces.

I pulled out my phone to check my notes, but Sam cleared his throat, and then whispered, “It can wait, G.”

I mean, yes, it can, but that just means more piled onto tomorrow.

I added another quick note and then held up my phone over Leo’s head to show Sam how I was putting it on Do Not Disturb.

As usual, Leo whisper-narrated a good portion of the movie and added his own commentary like our dad had always done. “Salt actually wouldn’t turn the bodies into mummies,” he said while carefully placing an equal ratio of gummy bear to M&M on his spoon. “It would make them dissolve.”

“Leo!” I looked at him incredulously. “Where did you hear that?”

“Aunt Sofia told me that was how she got rid of warts…by rubbing salt on them until they melted off.” He cleaned off the spoon and then held it up as he spoke. “Do you think if I did that to my freckles on my nose, they would disappear?”

“No,” Sam and I said in unison.

“Why would you want to get rid of your freckles?” Sam asked, pointing to his own that outlined his cheekbones and speckled his nose. “Freckles are awesome.”

“Trent said they made my face look dirty.” Leo dropped his head, and I immediately pulled out my phone to start a group text with Marco and Nico to figure out where this punk lived.

Those two spent way too much time rewatching The God-father, but sometimes it came in handy.

“Trent’s a moron.” Sam draped an arm around Leo’s shoulder. “He’s obviously jealous of your freckles. Lots of people are jealous of mine.”

Leo looked up at Sam. “They are?”

“Yep. And my red hair.” He grinned and bopped Leo’s nose before going back to watching the movie.

My throat grew thick seeing the two of them. They laughed at the same scenes, and Sam always joined in with Leo’s quoting of most of Kevin’s dialogue.

What would happen next semester with me gone?

Mom worked later and later these days, so who would be with Leo?

Would he just stay at Nona’s most nights or would she come here? And what if this Trent kid or someone else kept picking on him? Should I just ask Sam to watch over him for me?

Let’s be honest, Marco and Nico would definitely go overboard if they got involved.

I tried to enjoy my favorite scenes, like when Kevin goes grocery shopping, but all I could think about was the boy sitting next to me and how small and vulnerable he looked.