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“I don’t know what to do. How could I have been so dumb?” I was frantic over the situation.
“Is there something special about those panties? I mean, don’t you have a drawer full of them? Or wait… is Jonathan married? Not another one.”
I stared at her for a moment. “No, he’s not married, at least I don’t think he is, but that’s not the point. You don’t understand. This changes everything.”
For a moment, as I rubbed my feet back to life, I thought of going back inside to get them, and turned towards the house, to consider this preposterous idea. The door had probably locked behind me when I closed it. I’d have to knock and try to get one of those little kids to let me in. Gazing through the living room windows, I could see that the room was already filling up with family.
My gaze then wandered to the monster tree next to the house, and I contemplated climbing it to get to Gianni’s bedroom window, but when Sarah said my name and pulled me out of my trance, I realized I’d probably kill myself on the way up, not to mention the way down had to be worse… much worse. Besides, my feet were just now thawing out. I couldn’t possibly think of subjecting them to another round of freeze.
“If it’s such a big deal, maybe you should go back inside and get them,” Sarah suggested, as if that were even a possibility. “I can wait. I’ve probably missed all the present opening by now, so it doesn’t matter anyway. Although, I was kind of looking forward to breakfast. Gary and I were going to make pancakes. So, whatever you’re going to do, please do it so we can leave.”
I handed her the cookies. “I’m sorry for ruining your Christmas. Maybe these will help.”
“Thanks. They will. I’m starving.” She took a big bite of the gingerbread Christmas tree cookie. “Yum. My favorite.”
My head spun with scenarios about Gianni finding my panties. I even flashed on his mother finding them and couldn’t decide which would be worse.
“I can’t face him. I can’t face any of them. Not after last night.”
“Okay, you made me drive all the way over here on Christmas morning before Gary and I could exchange our presents, and now you’re telling me you can’t face him? Who can’t you face? Jonathan, your date? Is this his house? His family’s house? Because either way, somebody must do well. That’s one monster-sized house. And this street is crazy with decorations. I can’t even imagine what it must look like at night.”
Now that I saw the house in the daylight, it was even more impressive than it had been last night. Two floors of red-brick Tudor, with a small round corner porch up on the second floor. The house was massive and sat on at least an acre or more of land. If it had been located anywhere other than central PA, it would be worth millions of dollars, but where it stood, it was probably closer to three hundred thousand. Still, it was an impressive piece of real estate.
I turned to her, as I pulled myself out of my frantic stupor, while she devoured the second cookie and washed it down with what had to be coffee from her travel mug. There were two mugs in holders. I motioned to her, asking if one of them was mine.
“Yep,” she said. “I figured you might need it this morning.”
I slid the top back and took a couple of long, delicious gulps. Exactly what I needed and how I liked it, lots of milk and honey. Sarah was more than a friend. She was my savior.
“There is no Jonathan…” I blurted out, after downing as much coffee as I could at one time. “I mean, there is a Jonathan… somewhere, I think, but that’s not his house. That house belongs to the Capra family.”
I held onto the mug, not wanting to let it go. I needed all the help I could get this morning.
She looked out the windshield for a moment, then back at me. She wore no makeup, jeans, and an oversized Christmas sweatshirt with Santa and his reindeer emblazoned across the front. She loved Christmas, and our little apartment reflected that love. I usually loved it as well, but with the way my life had been going this year, I couldn’t get into it. My despair hadn’t fazed her. She owned one Christmas sweater that she wore every year, and apparently, this year was no exception.
I admired her dedication.
“The Capra family… as in Boston Pizza Capra family?” she asked, looking a bit stunned at the possibility. “You left your panties inside their house? How is that even possible? Whatever happened to Jonathan? I knew you and he weren’t a match, but he was damn cute. What the heck happened? This I’ve got to hear.”
“Just drive, please. I don’t want anyone to see me.” I wanted to get out of there before his family spilled out on the porch. I remembered that someone had told me about going to Christmas morning Mass at Saint Theresa’s.
We needed to move out.
Now!
“They already have.” She nodded towards the house. “Isn’t that Gianni standing on the front porch?”
I glanced back and sure enough, there he was, and he held something red in his raised hand.
“Oh, God! He has my panties,” I moaned.
“Who? Gianni? How the hell…?”
Could my life get any more complicated? I didn’t think so. “Drive, please… just drive!”
She put the car in gear and stepped on the gas; we fishtailed a little bit, but we didn’t pick up traction.
“This can’t be happening,” I yelled.
