Take It to Heart

Charlie’s mum’s house was a quaint cottage in Chesterfield. Everything from the stone roofing to the smoke twirling out of the chimney projected such a homey feeling. Snow dusted the front walkway and paper decorations were taped all over the front door. When we shuffled into the house on Christmas morning, Naomi and I were stuck carting in presents and hot dishes of food. I wore my usual Christmas attire, which consisted of thick leggings and a big, red sweater that stretched just above my knees. The crocheting of the wool was tatty and loose from years of wear and tear. Naomi took a less traditional approach. She wore a bright purple turtleneck with black jeans and boots. Maybe she had plans after dinner.

Julia’s decorations looked a lot like my mum’s. There were quilts lining the backs of couches and wreaths in every room. She had an arrangement of pinecones on the dining table and red and green streamers hung from the ceiling. The fireplace heated the whole house with the red flames flickering behind glass doors. It smelled like food and cinnamon hot chocolate.

My eyes still felt swollen and tired from last night’s emotional crisis. An extra swipe of concealer was able to rid my face of bags, but not the feeling of my skin under the makeup. I tried to keep my mind from drifting to Oliver. There were loads of distractions on Christmas. Julia, Charlie, and I danced around the kitchen finishing off the three-course meal while Naomi kept our wine glasses full.

Mum waltzed into the mix wielding a digital camera and a smile. “Charlie, Naomi, squish together will you?”

Naomi slung an arm around her dad’s shoulder and smiled, followed by the flash of the camera. Julia and Charlie were next, grinning with wine glasses and bites of food in their mouths.

“Dear, take one of Rose and I,” Mum said.

She passed off the camera to Naomi and pulled me into a hug. She smelled like perfume, the same kind I bought her every year for her birthday so she would never run out. Her skin was soft. She leaned her head onto mine, posing for the photo. I smiled and repressed the thoughts of wishing Josh was here in the photo.

“Take one with me,” Naomi ordered. She grabbed my arm and pulled me to her side. We both grinned and blinked away the light of the flash.

“Charlie I don’t believe it,” Mum muttered. “They just took a photo.”

“Hush,” I warned her. I popped a biscuit into my mouth from the dessert tray.

We gathered around the table, ready to gorge ourselves on the Christmas feast. Plates were passed and silverware clinked. There was a constant buzz of conversation. Charlie talked about work, a piece of broccoli stuck to the end of his waving fork. It was a sight to see, the five of us getting along.

Two hours later, once pie and coffee settled into our stomachs, my mum gathered us around in the living room to exchange presents.

“You first, Julia,” Charlie said. He passed her a box wrapped in messy paper.

Julia shook the box, pressing her ear to the side. Lovingly, she unwrapped the present and threw the wrapping onto the cushion next to her. Inside the box, there was a shining, silver blouse and a set of silver earrings.

“How lovely, Charlie! I don’t assume these were all your doing?” She asked with a smile, already pinning the jewelry to her ears. “How do they look?”

I got my mum a new electric teakettle and assorted drink flavors. Together, Naomi, Charlie, and I bought her a diamond bracelet with gold accents. She gushed over it, holding her wrist in the light so the gems sparkled. Naomi got a new eye shadow pallet and ankle boots. It was all easy until Naomi passed me a black box with a single blue ribbon stapled to the top.

“It’s not much,” she said, fidgeting.

I lifted the top off and threw out the tissue paper hiding the present below: a calligraphy set. It included a feather fountain pen, refill capsules in different colors, and a penholder shaped like an old inkpot. There was also a blank, leather bound journal staring up at me with a rose imprinted into the fabric. I picked up the book and fanned the pages, taking in the smell of fresh paper. I hardly even notice when two slips of paper fell out of the book and into my lap.

“What’s that?” My mum questioned. She picked the paper out of my lap. “Train tickets to London. What for?”

I was hit with a sudden wave of emotion. Naomi never really knew me, not until recently, but she’d been paying attention the whole time. I’d been getting letters from the South London Press and asking questions about the area for months. I’d been too worried about moving and telling my mum, so I hadn’t scheduled an interview yet. Now I had the motivation to.

“We’re going to take a trip there,” Naomi said. She smiled at me, mischievously. “Shopping and bonding, you know?”

I leaned across the couch and hugged Naomi from the side. “Cheers, Naomi. This is really a fantastic gift.”

Now I felt bad, because I’d just gotten Naomi a set of vinyl records and a gift card for Top Shop. She squealed with delight anyway and immediately powered up Julia’s record player.

Once festivities died down, and the tele consumed the adults, Naomi wanted to leave for a party.

“Are you coming or what?” she asked, zipping up her winter coat. “We have to leave Chesterfield in five minutes to make it back to Sheffield on time.”

“A party, while I’m wearing this?” I asked, motioning to my outfit.

Naomi rolled her eyes. “You’re festive, or whatever. Come on.”

It took us about thirty minutes to get to Naomi’s party. It was in Crosspool, just outside the middle of Sheffield. Noise thumped against the garage door as we walked into the house. Naomi pulled me through crowd. We entered the kitchen and she immediately thrust a red cup into my hand.

“Naoms, hi!” a short girl with ginger hair greeted. She kissed both of Naomi’s cheeks and offered a bottle of vodka.

“Thanks, Lore,” Naomi said. She poured some of the clear liquid into my cup. “This is my stepsister, Rose.”

Lore extended her hand to shake mine. “Welcome to my home. Juice is in the fridge, Peppermint Schnapps hot chocolate is being made in the dining room if you want.”

“Thanks,” I managed to reply before being dragged off again by Naomi.

As she marched me through the crowd, it became obvious that everyone here knew each other really well. They talked and moved like they’d been friends since sixth form. They all nodded or waved at Naomi. A few even stopped her for a quick hug. It was a small group of people, thirty at the most. They were decked out in holiday gear and playing Christmas carols between a playlist of rap and rock.

“Rose, this is George and Zummie,” Naomi said, coming to a stop in front of two boys.

The taller of the two, George, had stubble across his chin and a beanie perched on his head. The other wore a knitted sweater designed to look like a candy cane. I waved at them awkwardly. I took a sip of my juice and vodka to sooth the silence. Naomi jumped into a full conversation, which I nodded along to.

My phone—carried in my left hand— vibrated against my palm. I balanced it in one hand, since the alcohol was still in the other, and slid to unlock the screen. It was from Oliver. Merry Christmas xx. Do I reply? I decided against texting back and clicked the phone off.

“Zummie works in London, Rose,” Naomi pulled me back into the conversation.

“Oh, what part?” I titled my face to see Zummie. I was only half interested, but I felt pressured to talk. He had nice green eyes and messy curls. Not my usual type, but as of lately that hasn’t mattered.

“I live in Brixton now. I’ve been working at Steel London for a few years,” he replied.

“The advert agency?”

“Yeah.”

Naomi cut in. “We’ll be in London soon. I should ring you for drinks.”

I narrowed my eyes at Naomi. I knew what she was up to. My phone buzzed again and I checked out of the conversation. It was Oliver again. I have an xmas gift for you. Can we meet up?

“Is that Oliver?” Naomi asked in a whisper.

I nodded. “Should I reply?”

“No!” Naomi swiped the phone out of my hands and pocketed it. “Drink up, go have fun.”

“What kind of name is Zummie?” I asked later, sitting on a recliner with Zummie on the arm of the chair.

He laughed. “My real name is Jimmy Zuhl. Zummie just happened.”

The conversation with Zummie was nice. He was silly and loud and not afraid to crack jokes at anyone’s expense. When he wasn’t pushing his hair back from his forehead, he was twirling a cigarette in his fingers or downing another cup of juice.

“Do you smoke?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Sometimes, yeah.”

Outside, Zummie lit my cigarette before his own, saving the first hit while buzzed. He shuffled around on the iced patio, one hand deep in his coat pocket.

“You’re a pretty cool bird, Rose,” he commented. He had a sideways smile but a neat row of teeth. “Could I get your mobile number?”

I smiled sheepishly. He was nice, really. So I gave it to him right before Naomi dragged me off again into the night toward another party. She tossed my phone into my lap before driving her car away from the curb. There was another text from Oliver displayed on the screen. This time it was just a picture of him holding a box wrapped in red paper. I swallowed a smile and tucked the phone into my purse.

“Text him back tomorrow,” Naomi said. Her eyes never left the road. I didn’t know how much she’d been drinking.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t want to be that girl who doesn’t text back,” she said. “Proving a point works, but then you still have to be nice. Or else you look like the twat.”

“Sure, tomorrow.”

“So Zummie though…”

“You introduced us on purpose.”

She shrugged. “Obviously. He’s a fun bloke.”

Throughout the night, we bounced between two other parties and a chips place downtown before crashing back at home. I only managed to pull off my leggings before crawling in bed with my sweater still on. I’d have a hangover tomorrow, but plans for New Years already danced in the back of my mind.