It’s Mother-Pucking Christmas!

1. Dakota

1

DAKOTA

“ I don't want a man in my apartment being like, ‘Why did you spend that much at Sephora? Why were you out late? You're watching how much TV ?!’”

Gracie sighed. My best-friend-slash-cousin had found the man of her dreams on a long-distance bus of all places, and now she was determined that I needed to get shacked up too. “I just feel so bad that I moved out now that our house is finished and left you all by yourself.” Gracie flopped down on the bed next to me.

“It’s a two-bedroom condo that I now have all to my lonesome, so don’t be. I walk around with no bra and can leave the dishes in the sink.”

Granny Murray piped up, “You did that anyway.”

I sat up on my bed in my parents’ house. My mom had changed out the bedspread to the same Christmas-themed duvet cover I’d had since I was eight, back when I thought the Nutcracker Prince would whisk me away to fairyland.

I refilled my wineglass. “People who are in relationships just want other people to be as miserable as they are.”

“You’re just salty because what’s-his-face dumped you.”

“It’s not really dumping if he thought we were just hanging out.” I made air quotes. “And that meant he could play the field because his biological clock was ticking, and he had to keep his options open for Mrs. Right.”

Gracie grimaced. “Think of it as a bullet dodged.”

“Anyway,” I complained, “this is supposed to be a girl’s-night sleepover, not an intervention to discuss Dakota’s love life.”

“You can’t tell me you don’t want a boyfriend,” Gracie argued. “You’re pretty. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

“Sure, I want a boyfriend. A hot one, with money.”

“You’re going to need to settle, honey!” my mom called up the stairs… because it’s impossible to escape my overly large family.

Granny Murray thumped her chest. “I got you, girl. All taken care of.”

“I don’t want to go to a bar,” I warned. “The last time, we got in a fight.”

“We won a fight,” Granny Murray declared.

“Gracie’s boyfriend and our boss won the fight,” I said flatly.

“Trust your granny!”

“I don’t…”

“Gran, these are the parameters,” Gracie told her. “He can’t be a felon, he needs to have all his teeth, tall, Dakota’s age. Employed .”

“And hot!” I yelled.

“Lower standards, girls!” my mom shouted.

“Stop eavesdropping.”

“This is my house.”

“That’s right, Dakota!” my dad added, “It’s your mom’s house. But don’t listen to her. Don’t settle. Only the best for my baby girl!”

I flopped down on the bed and screamed into a handmade Rudolph pillow. “Maybe I do need a man. At least one with a house nearby so I don’t have to stay in my childhood bedroom when I come home for Christmas.”

“Don’t worry, girls, I have the perfect man in mind.” My grandmother dragged me upright. “Dakota, shave your legs and your coochie. You’re getting laid tonight!”