Page 91 of The Fireman and the Flirt

And just like that, we were back in Poughkeepsie for Christmas. My family turned the holiday into a two-day celebration. We went up for eve and stayed through the day. When we were younger, my cousins and I would turn it into a fun sleepover, each of us taking shifts by the fireplace for Santa sightings. The spirit of the tradition remained into adulthood, even if our staying up late was fueled by insomnia rather than excitement over Santa.

“Forget Derek,” said Maudrey. She passed me her fork and the pecan pie, still in the tin. As God is our witness, we were going to finish it off by sunup.

“He sounds like an asshole,” said Harold, pouring himself a shot of eggnog, a drink I would never find appealing. In his lap was his phone open to Tinder. He was always looking for a last minute stocking stuffer.

“He’s not an asshole,” I said. I had told them what happened with us. The great date followed by the not great napkin and even worse argument.

“He was making fun of you to his jock friends.” Maudrey scrunched up on the couch, tucking her legs under her.

“Why did he have that drawing in his pocket?” asked Harold, swiping left on a woman who committed the unforgivable sin of being over thirty.

“He acted this whole time like he didn’t know shit, but he did. You’re right, Cary. How can you trust him again? Do you have anything of his that we could burn in effigy?” Maudrey asked, fired up. The last time we tried that, she singed her eyebrows.

“Just sell him his house, get your coin, and get out.” Harold added a sassy finger snap. His last hookup had them regularly marathonReal Housewives.

“No, you’re right,” I said. “But was he an asshole?”

My cousins gave me confused looks.

“Maybe I was too quick not to believe him about the napkin? Maybe he did yank it away and tell them to shut up. That seems like something Derek would do.”

To their credit, Harold and Maudrey were trying to support me. I told them what Derek had done and how it had made me upset, and they were taking my side as loyal cousins.

Then why didn’t I find the same joy in it this time?

“Did I push him away because I got scared?”

“Well, you do have major trust issues,” said Maudrey, immediately hopping from the prosecution to the defense.

“And Derek has given you no reason to not believe him,” added her co-counsel Harold. “He’s seemed like an honest, decent fella up to this point. And sure, he might’ve made fun of you in high school if he had the chance, but you don’t know that.”

Maudrey turned to him. “Cary’s probably using that as a flimsy excuse to push him away.”

“Right, right. Because of his trust issues.”

“He was bound to find a reason to push away Derek. This was inevitable when you think about it.”

“Hey, I’m still here!” I said. I wasn’t a character on a TV show meant to be analyzed in a weekly recap.

Harold reached for the pecan pie, but I pulled it back.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” I said.

My cousins exchanged a look, recalculating their strategy.

“Derek’s an asshole.” Maudrey said, now back with the prosecution. “You were right to get out of this toxic sitch before he could keep hurting you.”

She turned to Harold, waiting for him to jump in. Too bad her co-counsel was ensconced on his phone.

“Hey, would it be weird if I messaged this girl when I hooked up with her twin sister over the summer?”

I turned my attention to the fireplace. Maybe Santa would have some sage advice for me. Or maybe he could whisk me off to the North Pole so I could stop thinking about Derek.

Sometime after three,my cousins faded off to sleep. My insomnia beat theirs, leaving me to wait up for Santa. The man hadn’t visited yet, and considering all the places he could be that weren’t Poughkeepsie, I didn’t blame him.

I went into the kitchen and found the crudités wrapped in plastic in the fridge. After all the pie and rich fixings, my body craved vegetables. I tried to eat softly, but celery and carrots were loud no matter how one crunched.

“Any sign of Santa?” Dad came into the kitchen, wearing the baby blue robe I got him for Christmas years ago. It had his initials sewn over the heart. I’d gotten my first big commission check and decided to treat him and Mom to swanky, luxurious Christmas presents.

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