Calendar Girl (December) Chapter 9: Christmas Fetishwear

Previously, Calendar Girl decided it was real important to reveal that Mia’s mom abandoned her as a child because she had undiagnosed bipolar disorder, Mia decided she’s still too hurt to want to try to fix their relationship, and none of this was incredibly uncomfortable or handled tactlessly at all and also now it’s Christmas.

Calendar Girl (December): Chapter 9

“Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg! The Batmobile lost a wheel and the joker got away, hey!” Isabel screamed at the top of her lungs while banging on every door down the hallway.
I groaned, rolled over, and sat up. “We’re never having kids.”

Like I said, totally normal shift in tone from “my mom ruined our lives with her bipolar disorder and her manic episodes only taught us about baking but not trustworthiness”. Yeah, did you forget that was how the last chapter ended? I tried to forget too. Merry Christmas!

hristmas music. Check.

Sic. Ok, I mean, it’s not like we never have typos on our blog and I don’t really think it’s the most important quality to critique about independently published work. But this is a pretty hilarious one. Merry Hristmas!

Speaking of Hristmas, Calendar Girl gets in the holiday spirit by continuing to rag on how Mia’s mom wasn’t a “real” mom.

[Wes’s mother] Claire Channing might be rich, might be a social butterfly in the money circles, but she was also a real mom. She’d made sure her children grew up with morals, values, and a hard-working working ethic.

Because this was her responsibility alone, obviously. So this is really mostly about antiquated gender roles, right?

Claire also knew how to make a killer home-cooked meal

Of course it is! Except, on top of that, last chapter also ended with Mia literally saying that baking was the one quality they learned from their mom. Make up your mind, Mia!

Mia is nervous about spending time with her soon to be in-laws, who she doesn’t really know (and who helped their son choose her when he needed to hire an escort in the first place… which would certainly be a factor for me, but astoundingly Mia doesn’t bring up…). Wes assures her she has nothing to worry about, then they arrive. Wes’s dad dad-jokes his way into the room first.

Charles entered first, arms wide as he pulled me into a huge bear hug. “Mia, Merry Christmas. Where’s the booze? We’re going to need it after that landing. I swear to God, the pilot got his license from the school of hard knocks, with the way he maneuvered through that turbulence. Wretched.”

They then navigate an awkward moment where Mia mentions this is her first Christmas tree and Claire doesn’t understand why, which prompts Maddy to explain that… their family “wasn’t into the seasons, but we are”. Mia sings the Mighty Mouse song in her head to express her gratitude to Maddy. I don’t think I can write a joke that’ll make this clunkier than it already is. Unless I suggested that… Audrey Carlan learned writing from the school of hard kno– wait, sorry, I just got a text from Ariel saying if I finish writing this sentence, she’s quitting the blog.

There’s another treacley passage where Claire finds some silver candlesticks that were a wedding gift from Charles’ parents, that they thought they had lost years ago. Mia suggests they use this precious silver to become an honest man leave the candlesticks out all year as a reminder of “an important day and important people”. For some reason, she freaks the fuck out after saying that.

I shrugged, followed by an instant sense of prickling heat skittering up my spine when I realized what I’d said. Shit. No-filter-Mia at your service. “I mean…uh, if you want to.”

Mia, you met your significant other’s parents when you were a sex worker and he was your client, during which time they told you they helped him pick you out for him. I think the bar for uncomfortable interactions has been set a little higher than this.

We skip ahead through a few hours that Mia and Maddy spend with their long-lost brother’s family, both their fiancées, and one set of in-laws-to-be.

“We have family now, Mads,” I whispered to her.
Her voice sounded small when she leaned toward me. “I never thought we’d have something this beautiful. I’m never going to take it for granted.”

“Wait, where’s our dad?”
“The one who I spent the entire year paying off his gambling debts and that was my motivation for almost the entire story? Who cares? We found a better family.”

Peter, Jeananna’s husband, cleared his throat loudly […]
“We’re expecting a baby!” Peter said.

I have no fucking clue who either of these characters are.

They open Christmas gifts. There’s a profoundly stupid scene where Wes gets Max’s five-year-old daughter a real Swarovski crystal tiara because “the ones in the toy stores were hideous”. Mia laughs off his obliviousness, and I restrain myself from going on another rant about capitalism. You’re welcome.

Wes gives Mia a heart-shaped necklace with “You own my heart” in the inscription. Mia gives Wes a watch with “Because you remembered me… I’m yours” engraved on the back. They make out in front of everyone. Merry Hristmas.

Anyway, maybe you read the title of today’s post and had started to wonder by this point if I was making shit up.

Much later that evening, I opened the bathroom door dressed in Wes’s last Christmas present. My breasts were trussed up in a red velvet push up bra with white fluffy trim. The bottoms were a miniscule skirt with matching fur trim that didn’t even fully cover my ass cheeks. On my legs, I’d slid a pair of red stockings and stepped into black patent leather sky-high stilettos.

Nuh-hope.

These were not shoes to be walked in. They were shoes to be fucked in.

These are the greatest sentences I’ve ever read in my entire life and no one will tell me otherwise.

Holding on to my sanity, I laid my hand above my head and arched my back provocatively. “Have you been naughty or nice this year, little boy?”

The “holding onto my sanity” is in reference to how badly she wants to jump Wes, not in reference to how this is probably honestly very difficult to do with a straight face.

Turned out, my guy was definitely naughty, but oh, so nice.

Merry Hristmas!

Oh, fuck it, one more time for the road!

These were not shoes to be walked in. They were shoes to be fucked in.

I’M DYING. IT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE! The tense of “to be walked in” makes it sound like the alternative was that Wes was going to take her on a walk like a puppy or something. Oh my god, it just gets better every time I read it. Talk about a gift that keeps on giving.

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