Joyeux Noël

The Ugly Sweater Party

"Julien, you have to open your eyes."

"I can't."

She tried to keep the humor from her voice, tried to control just how wide her smile threatened to curve. "It's not that bad, bien-aimé."

It had taken a concerted effort to even get him there, to the nearest store with garland in the windows and holiday displays dispersed throughout the aisles. He stood now before a mirror on the end of rack, and she smoothed the sleeve of the sweater against his arm as she adjusted the hanger she still held at his chin. That seemed the final enticement necessary to get him to finally open his eyes--

And groan.

"It's hideous," he lamented with a grimace.

The laughter she held back finally slipped free in her next breath. "It's supposed to be."

He waved that pullover away, and she reached for the next, holding it up for inspection--more for her sake than his. Again, she smoothed the sleeves into place, and tugged at the waistline as he frowned. "This one's even worse."

"Good! I want to win the contest this year. I've never been able to participate before," she said, giving the hem another tug before she, too, wore a frown. "I'm not sure this would be long enough. You're so tall--"

"Exactly. This store probably doesn't even accommodate men of my height--"

"Nice try," she cut him off. "You're not getting out of this. Don't you want to win?" She paused as she swapped that knit for another, holding it up in front of him and glancing toward the mirror, smiling at him within. "There's a prize."

"Tell me what it is and I'll buy it for you right now."

She laughed again, shaking her head as she pulled the latest eyesore away from him and hung it aside. "There's no fun in that. Besides..." Instead of reaching for another in his size, she grabbed one of the ones she'd selected for herself, holding it in place. "You get to help me choose, too. You won't be alone." A beat, and she cracked another grin before leaning in on her tiptoes to kiss him. "And I do know you love putting other couples to shame, non?"

Whether it was the affection or the chance to outdo all of her friends, he finally capitulated, sighing and rubbing a hand across the back of his neck before leaning in for one more kiss. "Fine. But I'm only wearing it to this party."

"Mhm," she agreed.

"And I'm throwing it in the trash as soon as the party's over."

Her laughter had to be agreement enough for that.

-

Hélène greeted them both with a bise, the sounds and smells of the season wafting through the apartment even from the doorway. "Come in, come in. Looks like no snow this year, mm? Such a pity."

"Speak for yourself," Théo piped up from where he and Noémie had joined behind them in the hall. "It's cold enough without snow."

"You're just warm-blooded," Noémie teased, as they all moved inside.

Daphne pulled her gloves from her hands, tucking them in her coat pocket before she began to unbutton it. Théo caught her with an elbow all the same, cracking a lopsided smile. "Shouldn't you have my back, hm, Daphne? We both came from the South. What I wouldn't give to be stretched out on a beach in Monaco right now."

She laughed, but caught Julien's eye as they finished shedding their outerwear. "Sorry, Théo, but I'm quite happy right where I am."

"And I see why," Hélène interjected, motioning toward her and Julien's attire. "You're a good man, Julien, springing to make Daphne's ugly pull contest dreams come true."

He opened his mouth to speak but Daphne cut him off with a palm on his chest and a finger lifted for her friends. "He is, but let me tell you-- You should have seen his face when I took him shopping."

Julien threw his hands up knowing he'd been caught, but the others just laughed, the lot of them moving further in toward where treats were spread across the table and the music played. Hélène even had a fire crackling in the fireplace, and several others had already cozied up around it, taking their seats on the couches and chairs their hostess had arranged for the occasion. They made the rounds, greeting everyone in turn, Julien's palm at her back even after a cup of cider had been passed to them both. She slipped away only after he'd been pulled into a conversation about his latest investment, leaving him with a kiss as she went to the kitchen to grab them a plate to share.

Festivities were soon in full swing, and the sound of laughter filled the apartment. Plenty of teasing jabs were made at Alain and his new "friend" Margot, but Daphne only shared a knowing look with Julien, whose hand gently squeezed her knee. The group made small talk, played games, ate far too many cookies, and finally, she pulled him aside in an alcove as the others prepared to exchange their gifts.

"See? This wasn't so bad," she told him cheekily, fingers toying with the collar of his sweater. "In spite of this."

He only hummed his concession, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Was there even a prize, hm? Or were you just appealing to my pride?"

Her smile turned sheepish. "Forgive me?"

His expression held for barely a moment before he broke into a chuckle. "Of course. But you do know I'm never wearing anything like this again."

"It's tradition," she protested, though her smile betrayed her.

"When have we ever been for tradition, hm?"

She wrinkled her nose, smoothing her hand over his shoulder and leaning in closer. "So if I told you we're standing under the mistletoe, you wouldn't want to kiss me?"

He glanced up at the sprig, tied to the lamp fixture overhead with a bright red bow. "I also don't need a reason to kiss my fianceé, do I?"

No, no, he most certainly did not--and he proved it several times over before the party was through.