Merry F-in' Christmas

On Christmas, my mother and I went over to my friend's house to have lunch with her and her family. Her husband, mom, aunt and uncle were all there gathered around the den when we arrived, playing with the baby and ignoring the dog, like so many other times I've been there. She handed me a glass of wine, they continued opening presents and making fun of each other. Drinking before noon--a true Christmas tradition. We always called them "after-church drinks."

Everyone sits around, chatting easily. What are the plans for the rest of the day? Are you working tomorrow? What movie are you going to see?

My friend's mom turns to me: "So, gotta date for New Year's?"

A million thoughts run through my head:
Lie.
My mother is watching me answer this question.
I won't be with any of these people for New Year's, so they won't know the difference if I lie.
Do I even want a date for New Year's Eve?
Remember the last time I had a date for New Year's Eve? Disaster.
Why is she trying to publicly shame me like this?

"Um, no."

"I do," she says, grinning.

It would have been un-Christmassy to call her a bitch, so I didn't.