12 Days of Mistletoe

19. Bonnie

NINETEEN

bonnie

I see Elliot Eaton sitting next to the head table. I also ignore him as if he were a pesky poltergeist, invisible to the naked eye.

“T, red beard,” I call into the microphone.

With each and every pause, Elliot whispers my name. But if he thinks I’m pausing the very popular pirate bingo just so he can apologize for his lame apology, he is wrong. Besides, can I really be angry if the man doesn’t get it? Most don’t. Noel isn’t just my pet or companion. She is a service animal. Yes, she is the love of my life and the best girl I know. But I would not be where I am without her. Life would not be the same for me. For a blink, I thought he understood that—in a kind, compassionate way.

I was wrong.

My relationship with Noel is foreign and odd to him.

He has nothing to apologize for—he can’t help that, and I will get over it. I feel silly for letting this bother me as much as it has already .

Elliot isn’t my actual boyfriend— you know that, right, brain?

Whew . It knows.

So, why do I care if Elliot thinks I’m an odd duck?

Ignoring my inner turmoil, I keep the game running. “E, eye patch.”

“Bonnie,” Elliot whispers. “I wasn’t thinking. I?—”

“Everyone doing all right?” I say into the microphone, interrupting him. “Can everyone hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Bon Bon,” Bill calls from the back.

I nod, swallow, and don’t look over at Elliot burning a hole in the side of my head. “P, mermaid.”

“Tail color?” a woman from one of the front tables asks.

“Sorry. That’s right, we have a couple mermaids. It’s gold. P, mermaid, gold tail.”

“Bonnie—” Elliot says again.

I clench my jaw and stare ahead.

But I don’t have to come up with anything to say. Doug does it for me. “PIRATE!” he yells just before adding an “Argh!” and a fist pump. “I knew that mermaid was lucky.”

“Nice one, Doug,” I say, breathing out a shaky laugh. Then, as if I haven’t been ignoring him for the last half an hour, I turn to Elliot. “Can you keep reading tiles?” I pass over my box of bingo cards, a letter and picture on each, as well as the corded microphone. “I need to…” I trail off, not finishing that sentence.

Elliot blinks, his lashes long and dark. “Sure,” he says, his forehead wrinkled and his eyes downcast. He stands at the head, looking out at my elderly friends. “Um, do we clear boards?” he asks into the mic.

“Already done, One-thirty,” Bill calls out. “Keep it moving. ”

I step down from my spot at the front and walk a gift card for ten dollars over to Doug. Noel walks beside me and I ruffle the top of her head. “Here you are, sir. Ten whole dollars to Espresso Yourself.”

“Sweet. I’m taking Marion out later.”

I smile, my heart thumping at a semi-normal pace, although I can feel Elliot’s eyes on my back.

He calls out another card, doing as I asked. “Okay, it’s an R, and there’s a hook, like Captain Hook’s hook. You know, from Peter Pan ?

“We know what a hook is, sport,” Eugene says, and while his tone is kind, Doug scoffs beside me. Still, he scrapes the bingo from his board and sets a gold coin onto the hook right beneath his R.

“Just give us the letter and the picture,” Bill tells him, loud enough for Deb, who refuses to wear her hearing aids, to hear. “Come on, One-thirty, let’s go!”

“One-thirty?” Deb, sitting at the table behind Bill, asks.

I tune out as he yells to tell her all about Elliot’s atrocious Scrabble score. Walking around the room, I busy myself in a completely unneeded way. I breathe—in for five, out for seven—and Noel likes the little jaunt. Plus, it keeps me away from Elliot’s whispers. Though his eyes seem to follow me wherever I go.

“Okay, next up is I, with a bird. Like a colorful green and blue?—”

“It’s a parrot,” Doug says. “Who hired this guy?”

I smirk out a small laugh, then lean over Mable and Shirley’s table to snatch a coin from the bucket and unnecessarily hand one to each of the ladies.

By the time the game is over, I’m cool and sober. I’m not angry at Elliot, and my nerves over what others think of me are Jell-O.

It helps that Elliot is sweating over a game of pirate bingo.

Once we have two more winners and I’ve thanked everyone for coming, Elliot sets down the mic and trots over to May and Bill’s table.

May peers down at the bright green and white gift card in her hands.

“Nice job,” I tell her.

“Yeah, you’re lucky today, Gran.”

May waves a hand in the air. “Pish-posh. No such thing. I am blessed and I don’t need this gift card. You should take it,” she says to Elliot.

“No.” He shakes his head. “You use it.”

“You know very well I do not drink coffee.”

Elliot’s brows pinch together. “Yes, you do. One cup every morning.”

May scoffs and gives her grandson a disapproving glare. “I make that myself. And I drink one-quarter cup coffee, three-quarters cup milk.”

“Okay, but?—”

“Take Bonnie.” May nods.

“Um.” Elliot’s eyes skirt over to mine.

“Right now. You two have another practice kiss later tonight, and you need to improve your form or no one will believe you tomorrow when you go Christmas tree hunting. Maybe if you two spend a little time together, you’ll have better luck at practice tonight.” She nods as if this were purely business. And in some strange way, I guess it is to her.

“Gran—” But Elliot’s word is just a wheeze. The man may have biceps for days, but he has no strength when it comes to his grandmother.

“Go on. I’m not asking again. I’m staying here to play Scrabble with Bill. Someone has to redeem our family name.”

A small sputtering laugh escapes my lips. “I’ll lead the way.”