Snowflakes

It was nearly seven, and half of my family was already present. The other half had showed up only fifteen minutes after, and still no sign of Harry and his family. I began to wonder if they had gotten lost. I was speaking to my Uncle Jeremy, whom I hadn’t spoken to since I was nine, about deep-sea fishing, which I had never done and knew nothing of, when a tall, curly-headed lad stepped through the door. I smiled and excused myself from the positively riveting conversation to greet him and his sister at the door.

“Did we interrupt?” Gemma asked, nodding toward my Uncle Jeremy.

“No, God, no. He won’t even notice I’m gone,” I laughed as I saw him pulling my cousin, Richard, into what I assumed was the exact topic which I had escaped from. “Did you find the place alright? Where’s Anne?” I asked both of them, but looking straight at Gemma because it seemed that Harry was afraid to speak to me in front of his sister.

“Mum came down with a cold; a real nasty one, too,” she told me, nodding. “She really wished she could’ve made it, though.”

“Well, tell her we missed her, will you?” I smiled, urging them to follow me. “There’s food in the kitchen, and most of the family is in the living room, but the young ones usually hang around the desserts.” We stopped walking in front of the kitchen arch, when Gem turned her head and smiled.

“Who’s that by the window?” She asked, pointing to the tall brunette man sitting in the window-seat.

“That’s just my cousin, Jacob. He’s twenty-two, a carpenter, single, and he likes dogs and smart girls that can hold a conversation,” I nudged her with my elbow, raising my eyebrows suggestively. She bit her lip, asking me ‘do you mind?’ before I gave her the go-ahead. She scurried over to him and greeted him with a smile. I turned to Harry with a grin.

He raised a brow at me. “Did you just set my sister up with your cousin?”

“Sure did. I can set you up too if you like,” I smiled cheekily up at him. “My second cousin, Daphne, has been single for a month now and she’s been looking for a new victim.” I pointed to the woman in tall blue stilettos and pounds of makeup caked on her face; her pushup bra was visible through her bright purple sweater, and she looked like she could really use a cigarette.

A very noticeable cringe shook through Harry’s body, “no, thank you.”

I giggled, and pulled him over to the side of the staircase. “So, how were things after I left yesterday?”

“Annoying,” he scoffed quietly.

“Oh?” I perked up, “how come?”

“Gem, wouldn’t shut up about ‘why so quiet baby bro?’ She wouldn’t get out of my face; she followed me into the loo,” he laughed.

“I know how you feel,” I nodded. “Evan was the same way, and I have to share a room with the kid.”

“Evan?” Harry questioned.

“My little brother,” I nodded. “I told you about him, didn’t I? Real piece of work, that kid is.”

“I think you mentioned him.”

“Hey nerd,” an obnoxious voice spoke.

“Speak of the little devil and he shall come,” I shook my head, groaning quietly to myself. “What, twerp?”

“Is this your boyfriend?” He pointed at Harry, not waiting for my response. “Hi, I’m Evan.”

“I’m Ha-”

“I know who you are,” he assured him.

“Yeah, well now that we’re all acquainted, can you go away please?” I pushed him in the opposite direction.

He turned around to face Harry and beckoned him down to his level with his index finger. Harry leaned down, hands placed on his knees, giving me a confused look. I just shrugged, having no clue what Evan was about to do.

“Hurt my sister and I’ll beat the crap out of you,” Evan spoke menacingly. Well, as menacingly as a four foot tall eight year old can be, I suppose.

Harry was trying to hold back his laughter as I forced Evan into the living room. “I’m so sorry. He a dork,” I apologized.

“No, it’s nothing,” he chuckled.

My luck didn’t seem to be all that great that night because as soon as I had gotten rid of the twerp, my mother, who, by this point, had probably had one too many eggnogs, waltzed up to Harry and me with mistletoe in her hand. She held the branch high over my head, “kiss me, Kenna.”

’I just can’t seem to get a break,’ I thought to myself.

“No, Mother,” I groaned. “Please, just go bother Evan. I sent him in there,” I pointed into the lounge.

“Come on, Ken-Ken. Just one little one on the cheek?” She begged, turning her head so her cheek was to me. I pecked her cheek like she wanted in the hopes that she would leave. She didn’t. “And you must be the lad I’ve heard plenty about,” she continued, conversation now directed toward Harry.

“Dear God, Mum,” I sighed.

Just then Gramma Abbey came to my rescue. She grabbed my mum’s arm and pulled her into the living room in search of my little brother. I thanked the heavens for sending Gramma Abbey when they did.

“You’re family is a riot,” Harry snorted.

“Really? Try living with them,” I laughed.

“I don’t know. Gemma can be kinda-”

“Look, Harry! Mistletoe!” Gemma came walking up to us with a branch in her hand, similar to the one my mum had.

’Where is everyone finding this mistletoe?’ I thought, but thought it best not to ask aloud.

She scurried up to Harry, standing on her tip-toes, so he could peck her cheek the way I did to my mum. Gemma was satisfied, but before she scurried off, she was sure to stick the twig of holly into Harry’s curls.

“Ow,” he groaned as he tried to pull it out, but it was tangled in good.

“Lean your head down, I’ll get it,” I giggled. I hoisted myself onto my toes to get a better look. Coinciding perfectly with my luck, someone quickly brushed past me, knocking me off balance and tumbling into Harry. He caught me easily, stopping us from both toppling over. “Sorry,” I apologized.

“Don’t be,” he smiled. “It was an accident.” I nodded, reaching up once more to try and free the holly branch from his hair. It was then that he noticed my wrist. “Hey, is that the bracelet?”

“What? Oh, yeah it is,” I laughed lightly. “You probably think it’s stupid, but I like it.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“There,” I announced as I was finally able to untangle the branch from his brunette curls. Returning to my safe, flat-footed position, I smiled at him and held it jokingly above my head.

“Mistletoe,” he laughed. Looking up to the mistletoe I held in my fingers and back to me, he licked his lower lip and went silent.

I nodded my head. “Mistletoe,” I repeated.

It was supposed to be a joke, but it seemed like I’d just made things awkward, and maybe even a little bit tense between the two of us. I lowered the twig from above my head and looked up at him with a nervous knot in the pit of my stomach.

We both just looked at each other, smiles long gone from our faces. As he leaned down to me, my stomach turned flips. His lips pressed gently to mine, and they tasted like peppermints. I couldn’t have been happier at that particular moment; I had been kissed under the mistletoe, and after all, what’s more Christmassy than a kiss under the mistletoe?