Damsel Under Stress
turning red. I ducked back into my makeshift cubicle and let Owen deal with Jake. I had enough to worry about now that I was meeting Owen’s family.
     
    That evening was consumed by a flurry of packing as both of my roommates got ready for their trip home for the holidays. I got assigned Laundromat duty to help them get some last-minute loads done while they packed.
    “I hate to leave you alone like this,” Gemma said as she folded and packed the last load I’d brought back.
    I continued sorting through the laundry basket for the items of mine I’d thrown into the load. “Actually, I’m going home with Owen.”
    “You are?” She raised her voice and called into the living room, where Marcia was packing. “She’s going to meet the hottie’s folks!”
    A second later, Marcia was in the bedroom. “Really? He’s taking you home for Christmas?”
    “It’s not like that. They don’t even know we’re dating. They just know that I’m a friend from work who was going to be alone for Christmas, and they invited me.” They looked at each other and rolled their eyes. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, I know. I don’t believe it either, but that’s honestly what he seems to think.”
    “They are totally going to be checking you out and trying to see why he’s been talking about you,” Marcia confirmed.
    “Okay, this is a minor emergency,” Gemma said, hurrying to the closet. “You may not be meeting the parents in an official girlfriend sense, but you are meeting the parents, and this is your only chance to make a good first impression.” She disappeared into the closet, then returned with a small suitcase. “This should do. It’s good quality but not covered with designer labels.”
    “I’ve got an overnight bag,” I said.
    “You have a glorified gym bag. Take this. Now, what do you know about them?”
    “They live in some village on the Hudson. I think they’re rich. And he says they’re pretty formal. They dress for dinner.”
    “Okay, got it.” She disappeared into the closet again, then returned with an armful of sweaters. “You have to have cashmere. I’d suggest going with subdued and classy—nothing too obvious, but definitely not bargain bin or trendy. That’s the safest bet for meeting any parents for the first time.”
    “And then I have to come up with some gifts,” I said.
    Gemma groaned. “Oh, we don’t have time to do this right. I wish I wasn’t leaving town.”
    “If you weren’t leaving town, this wouldn’t be an issue. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I can shop for myself, you know.”
    She didn’t look convinced, but Marcia said, “Yeah, Gemma, she’s a big girl now.” She went back to her own packing, and I spent the rest of the evening listening to Gemma rattling off ideas for presents.
     
    I was looking forward to some rare private time when I got home from work the next evening, but I’d barely had time to take my coat off before the intercom buzzed. I hit the button, and it was Philip’s voice asking for Gemma that answered me.
    “Gemma went home for Christmas today,” I told him. “Didn’t she tell you?”
    There was a pause, then he said, “No, she didn’t. May I speak with you?”
    This was my first good chance to have an honest heart-to-heart, magic and all, with Philip, so I said, “Come on up,” and buzzed him in.
    He knocked on the door a few seconds later. “Would you like some tea?” I asked as I took his coat.
    “Yes, please,” he said. He looked exhausted and utterly miserable. “When did she leave?” he asked as I put tea and a plate of Christmas cookies in front of him. He reflexively stood as I moved to take my seat across from him at the table, then resumed his seat when I sat.
    “Today during the day. She’s coming back late Christmas night. This whole trip was very sudden. She just found out about the last-minute fare sale yesterday, and last night she was so busy getting ready that I guess she forgot to let you

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