Home for the Holidays by Steven R. Schirripa Read Free Book Online Page B

Nicky said. “We met at summerschool. She and her family came up for my dad's New Year's party. They're staying in that spooky old bed-and-breakfast in Newton.”
    “Not really!” Amy said. “That place is haunted. I refused to go there when I was little. My aunt owned it and used it as her summer home.”
    “Your aunt lived in Newton?” Nicky asked.
    “My aunt
was
a Newton,” Amy said. “What did you do to your chin?”
    Tommy's hand went to his bandage. He had forgotten. He said, “This? I had a snow, uh, accident. A snowboarding accident. In a snowmobile.”
    “What a bore,” Amy said. “And don't you think my party is boring, too? Maybe if we got rid of this appalling music. Mother! Excuse me.”
    “What a bore!” Tommy mimicked. “Who is she—the Queen of England?”
    “She's the Queen of Carrington,” Nicky said. “But she's right about the music, anyway.”
    Then the music changed. The speakers went
thump thump thump.
Someone said, “Ah-ooo,” and the young people began to dance, carefully.
    Most of the kids were shy. They moved their feet and hands a little and mostly stood in place, swinging their elbows and pretending they were dancing.
    Not Tommy. He moved, and he grooved. He rocked and rolled. Nicky had never seen anything like it, except on VH1. Tommy could
dance.
    Tommy started out dancing with Donna while Nickysort of danced near them. Then another girl came over and said, “Yeah!” and started dancing with Tommy. Then she said, “Cassandra! Come here!” After two songs, there were five or six girls all dancing together, with Tommy in the middle, while a handful of other dancers stood back and watched.
    “Ladies! Please!” Tommy said after five or six songs, and pushed his way over to Nicky. “I need a Coke or something. I'm dyin' here.”
    “Wow!” Nicky said to him. “You can really dance!” Tommy shrugged. “I do okay. But what's with the rest of you guys? Nobody else around here likes to dance?” “Not like that,” Nicky said. “They're all too shy.” “Too shy to dance? That's like being too shy to play baseball.”
    “Whatev,” Nicky said. “Let's go find Donna.” Tommy grabbed a plate of cinnamon rolls as they went past the refreshment table. They found Donna dancing politely with Chad.
    “Donna's a good dancer, huh?” Nicky said. “She deserves a better partner than that.”
    “The little tough guy! You want me to get rid of him?” “No, he's okay,” Nicky said. “But I was thinking. Maybe you could teach me later—”
    “Hey, look!” a big voice said. “It's Frosty the Snowman.” Tommy turned around fast. Nicky didn't have to. He knew the voice belonged to Dirk Van Allen. Nicky turned slowly.
    “Hey, Frosty!” Dirk said. “You hurt your chin?”
    “That was a dirty trick, Dirk,” Nicky said. “That was cheating.”
    “All's fair in war and battle,” Dirk said. “Or don't you know your Shakespeare? Hey, Amy. I was just saying hello to your guests. Do you let
anybody
come to your party?”
    “I guess so,” Amy said. “You're here, for example.”
    “Oh, funny,” Dirk said. “I was talking about Pizza Boy.”
    Tommy stepped forward and pushed Dirk hard in the chest. The bully rocked back on his heels and then sat down on the floor. As he struggled to his feet, his face beet red with rage, Tommy pushed him to the floor again.
    “Stay down,” he said. “Or I'll beat you down.”
    Dirk hesitated, looking around for help.
    “Not so tough without your boys, huh?” Tommy said. “Well, I'm here with
my
guys. You watch your mouth or I'll throw you out of here. Got it?”
    Dirk got to his feet slowly, without answering. He brushed off his pants, breathing hard, his face burning. He said, “You'll be sorry for this.”
    “Sure thing,” Tommy said. “And merry Christmas to you, too.”
    Dirk left, slamming the big front door behind him so hard, the windows shook. Someone turned up the music. Amy drifted over to where Tommy, Nicky and