Waiting for Mistletoe by Natasha Lane

Author:Natasha Lane [Lane, Natasha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Holidays, United States, African American, publication, Books to Go Now, Amazon, Romantic, buy here, eBook Publsiher, british, books, reader, britain, story, Seattle, phone apps, award, sale, mobi pocket, digital publisher, bestseller, stories, purchase, uk, award winning, Contemporary, author, adventure, e-book, American, marketing, digital, short story, reads, fictionwise, lit, read, PDF, Short Stories, publications, links, Smashwords, electronic, submissions, ebook, australia, publish, submit, book, writers, download, authors, free, Romance, recommended read, action, writing, yahoo, shop, reading, submission, usa, buy, Droid, best seller, html, fantasies, bebo, Comedy, wwwbookstogonow.com, publisher, shopping, myspace, publishing, humour, au
Amazon: B00R1KOLP2
Publisher: Books to Go Now
Published: 2014-12-14T05:00:00+00:00

“Oh, yes, well, you know Tommy never brings his friends home.”

I wonder why? I smiled.

“You would think he had something to hide.” She looked directly at him from across the table before turning back to me. “So, Amelia, we are all very excited to finally meet one of Tommy’s friends.”

Mr. Molloy cleared his throat. “Uh…so, Amelia are you originally from Baltimore?”

“Yes, born and raised.”

“Ah, so what do you do there?”

“Oh, a little of this, a little of that.”

The piece of bread Mrs. Molloy had finally managed to pick up fell back onto her plate. “You don’t have a steady job, then? How does a single young woman in the city support herself?”

“Oh, of course, I do. I mostly work at a tattoo shop.” All the blood drained from her face. “I just meant I’m a bit of a jack of all trades if you know what I mean.”

Tommy kicked me from under the table. I responded by slamming on his toe as hard as I could. He turned to me with a pained smile. I grinned.

“Actually, Tommy and I were talking about him getting one just the other day.”

Boston Boy choked on his cappuccino while Mrs. Molloy nearly snapped her neck to glare at him.

“She’s joking, Paola…I think,” said Mr. Molloy.

She looked at me again. Smile. “Amelia, when you say a jack of all trades did you mean you were a-“

“Hey, Amelia. Let’s go look at those skates.” Maria jumped from her seat and pulled me from my chair into the basement. We opened the door and went down a short flight of stairs. She flicked the lights on at the last stair and the space was illuminated. There were cement walls and stacks and stacks of marked boxes.

Maria began to shuffle through the mess. She dragged out a large box with her name scribbled on it. The box was full of nothing, but trophies and ribbons. I examined the awards, noting that many of them dated back as far as 1st grade.

Maria saw me staring and closed the box. “Sorry. Ma likes to keep all of our stuff. The skates are here somewhere, though.” She dragged the box back in with the others and started searching again. I noticed how much she and her brothers looked alike. The same icy blue eyes which they got from their father and that dark hair from their mother though it seemed her own had lightened as she got older.

“Found them!” Maria turned to me with the skates in her right hand. “Here,” she smiled and gave them to me.

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