All I Want for Christmas Is You (Short Story) Read Online Free Page A

joked.
    “She loves Christmas.”
    He and Maddy stood there side by side, just watching the house. He could feel how torn she was. How sure and unsure she felt at the very same time.
    How do I fix it? he wondered. How do I make her believe in us when we seem so crazy?
    Well, first he was going to ask her dad for permission to marry her. Ridiculous. But if it made her feel better, he would do it.
    “Let’s go,” he said, tugging her into action.
    “Billy,” she didn’t move. “If they don’t approve—”
    “We’re still doing it,” he interrupted, with enough conviction for both of them. He wasn’t totally sure how she would have finished that sentence on her own. He didn’t want to hear it. “I love you. You love me. We need each other. Yeah, it’s weird that we’re so young, but that doesn’t matter.”
    “You’re right.” She smiled, beamed really, the Christmas lights blinking in her eyes. It was the first true smile he’d seen from her in a few days, but somehow it still didn’t feel real. “You’re totally right.”
    Maddy led him up the steps and opened the front door. In the foyer they stripped off their stuff. Coats and boots. Her gloves. His hat. Maddy put on the slippers her mom always left by the door. Billy ignored them.
    The front room was empty, just as it always was. All the vacuum lines in the carpet lined up perfectly, and the Christmas knickknack crap on the shelves looked like it had just been dusted. The couches no one ever sat on appeared new, but the Baumgartens had probably owned them for twenty years.
    The room was for special occasions, but Maddy said there was never anything special enough to get the front room dirty.
    “Mom! Dad?”
    There was a thunk and a clank from the kitchen and Maddy’s mom suddenly emerged. Maddy had gotten her mom’s dark curly hair and big eyes, her ready smile and her way with people.
    But Joanne was about a foot shorter and weighed close to three hundred pounds; she wore housecoats a lot and dresses without waists. Tonight it was a red and green one; she even had a sprig of holly in her hair.
    Maddy obsessed over her body because she didn’t want to look like her mom and nothing that Billy could say to her seemed to convince her that it wouldn’t happen. Maddy was strong and athletic.
    It was one of those things that he chalked up to her being a girl and him being a guy—sometimes they just didn’t look at things the same way. And frankly, he’d still love her if she weighed a million pounds. He’d worry about her, but he’d love her.
    “Hey, Mrs. Baumgarten,” he said, sliding past Maddy to give Joanne a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She always seemed to like that stuff. She liked him. It was comforting to think that Joanne was going to welcome him into their family with open arms. He was the son she had always wanted and all that stuff. It would in fact be awesome if he could just ask her for Maddy’s hand in marriage.
    “Stop right there!” Joanne said and pointed up. Maddy groaned.
    “Mistletoe,” Maddy said and Joanne clapped. “Mom put it everywhere this year.”
    Billy glanced up and saw the green plant hanging down from a ribbon. “That’s mistletoe?” he asked, turning his head sideways.
    “You’ve never seen it?” Joanne asked, astonished.
    “Nope.” Maddy squeezed his elbow. It bothered her way more than it bothered him to be reminded of all the things he grew up without. In his mind, he had all that mattered. Hockey and Maddy. What was some stupid plant going to add to that … well, besides the obvious?
    “You know what to do, right?” Joanne asked.
    “My kind of Christmas decoration,” Billy joked and leaned over to kiss Maddy quickly on the lips. He was always so careful about being demonstrative at her house. He figured it was the respectful thing to do. But as soon as he pulled away, Maddy pulled him back down again. A hard kiss, more force than finesse.
    Man, she really was nervous.
    He didn’t