Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“I do want to dance,” I said finally, smiling at him.
He smiled back and held out his hand.
31
DOMINIC
The tree was trimmed, the dozens of ornaments Jake and Marjorie had collected over the years were hung from the branches, and the lights were flashing between golden white and bright multicolor because Marjorie liked the white and Jake liked the colors. I could have weighed in and broke the tie, but I didn’t give a shit. We could set the Christmas tree on fire for all I cared.
Hell, I’d prefer it.
The three of us sat around the dining room table. There was a honey-baked ham in the center, the sweet potatoes Jake liked that tasted like candy, creamed spinach, deviled eggs, and a salad. Too much food for only three people, but in the past, all the food had made it seem like the table wasn’t so empty. Like there wasn’t someone missing who should absolutely be there.
Now, I didn’t feel a hard, angry pit in my stomach when I saw Bryan’s empty chair, and I didn’t feel the hot knot of grief in my throat either, but I had the miserable, unshakeable feeling that we were incomplete. I took another drink from my spiked eggnog. Maybe the problem was that there was too much sticky sweet heavy cream and not enough brandy.
“Okay, ready!” Marjorie bustled out of the kitchen, brushing her hands off briskly. She was wearing an old red Santa hat with Mommy scrawled across the white part of the felt in glitter that had been chipping away for over fifteen years. Jake had made it for her. I’d had one, too, but hell if I knew where it was now.
We took our seats at the table. Jake was looking down at his lap, a half-smile on his lips as he finished texting. Marjorie looked insane in her ratty old hat and too-bright smile. Suddenly, the rest of the night played in front of my eyes as if it was being shown on the flatscreen TV in the living room, that was currently turned to a channel that played a roaring fire on a continuous loop, complete with sound effects.
We would eat, spending most of our time prodding Jake to tell us everything about med school. What was he learning? Who was he meeting? Was he having fun? Had he picked a specialty yet? And then Marjorie would gamely take up the conversation and tell us about her job and this funny thing that happened. And then they’d expect me to do my part. I’d find some bullshit to say, probably tell them about Con’s new baby, or how Landon was adjusting to surprise fatherhood. Maybe I’d complain about Garrett’s defection into happily ever after. Then we’d watch Elf or Scrooged in the living room.
Why the hell were we acting out this scene? Jake wasn’t a child who needed us to wear Santa hats and act like everything was perfectly fine. Everything was perfectly fine in his world. Bryan had been gone almost twenty years. He didn’t need the pageantry. He clearly wanted to be with Christi, because the guy had been grinning down at his lap for a weird amount of time now.
I felt bitterness rising up in me. I didn’t want to fucking talk about my friends’ lives, most of whom were sitting around their own tables with their own families now, having a real Christmas Eve.
I wanted my family.
The thought hit me like a Mack truck. First, I tried to shove it away. This was my real family. Jake and Marjorie and I, we were a family. I’d sworn to Bryan’s memory that I’d always be there for them, and I had been.
But you couldn’t shove away a Mack truck. It flattened you whether you liked it or not. I wanted my family, and that didn’t mean just my sister and nephew anymore. I wanted Selena. I wanted her here so badly that my chest ached. I wanted her at this table, or hell, I’d even be happy in her crack den of an apartment, listening to Clyde and Maribel play reindeer games above us.
Wherever we were, if we were together, it would feel like Christmas Eve.
“I have to go,” I said abruptly, cutting off whatever Marjorie was saying.
Jake’s head snapped up, interest lighting up his face. I hadn’t realized until now how bored he looked whenever he wasn’t gazing into his screen.
Marjorie looked irritated. “You have to go?” she repeated. “We just sat down to dinner.”
“Yeah, I know.” I looked at the plate I’d filled seemingly without thinking. There was no way in hell I was going to eat this food. “I’m sorry, Marj. It’s important.”
“What could be so important that you have to leave your family on Christmas Eve?” she asked, eyes widening as I pushed my chair away from the table.