Page 14 of Stay this Christmas
Georgia rolled her eyes. “She hasn’t said, but I wouldn’t put matching jammies past her.”
“She makes it real hard to avoid them.” Since I’d been back, Ava had found excuses for a whole raft of get-togethers, most of which ended with dinner at their upscale house in one of the swankiest neighborhoods in Magnolia Ridge. Mom had sold our old childhood home next to Harper’s a few years after the divorce and moved to Houston—meanwhile, Dad had bought Ava a McMansion. “Their perfect family image is a lot to take.”
“I know,” Georgia conceded. “It’s a little tone-deaf sometimes.”
A little. Dad had never acknowledged what he did, never sat down and said,Hey, kids, I know this is tough on you, but…He just expected us to pretend we were all fine. He wanted all of the benefits of having a new family, and none of the fallout. He’d had plenty of chances to apologize to any of us, but never so much as hinted at one, the coward.
A cold ache worked its way down my ribcage, settling into a hard knot in my stomach. I knew another chicken—I looked him in the mirror every day.
Dammit. If Dad was a coward for never admitting he’d made mistakes in his relationships, what did that make me with Harper? I hadn’t apologized to her yet, just carried on pretending like things were fine when I knew they weren’t, knew they couldn’t be if I didn’t acknowledge how badly I’d ended things between us. I’d figured I would get to the apology after she’d warmed up to me, but how could that ever happen without her knowing how awful I felt for the way I’d treated her? And how did that makeherfeel in the meantime?
The knowledge I hadn’t behaved any better than Dad solidified my impulse to mend things with Harper as soon as I could, screw waiting around. If it meant a swift punch to the arm, so be it. Hopefully, she wouldn’t aim any lower.
“I’m taking the littles to see Santa downtown in a couple of weeks,” Georgia said offhand. “Thought you might want to come.”
Thelittlesbeing our half-siblings, Finn and Willa. Eleven and six, they looked a lot like us when we were that age, except they had their mom’s straight, jet-black hair instead of my mom’s curly blond hair like Georgia and me. I’d barely been a blip in their lives, stopping in town once or twice a year for a few days, but you’d never know it from the way they piled on me whenever I saw them.
Surprisingly, I liked spending time with them, too. Whatever my feelings were on the way my dad had handled himself, none of that was their fault. Anyway, what would that make me if I held a grudge against two little kids?
“Dad and Ava are going Christmas shopping while I take the kids off their hands. You know they’d love to spend the day with you, too.”
“I should be able to make it.” She knew as well as I did my schedule was wide open. “Maybe we could find something else to do with them, like paintball or go-karts.”
Georgia’s look was pure unimpressed. “Sure. Paintball or go-karts in the middle of Christmas season. What a great idea.”
“You know they’d love it.”
“Maybe, but Ava asked me to take them to see Santa.”
I could just imagine downtown Magnolia Ridge all lit up and sparkly for Christmas. They used to have Santa set up in town square, with real reindeer to look at while you waited your chance to sit on the big guy’s lap. All part of the show. Wasn’t sure what all had changed in the last ten years, but if the increase in lit-up wreaths and snowmen around town were any indication, it’d only become a bigger production.
“Aren’t they a little old for that?”
She set her fork down, glaring at me as if sizing up whether she could still give me a charley horse. I had a lot of experience with this look—I often brought out her scolding scowl, as though she were the older sibling and not the younger.
Of everyone I’d left behind here, I’d kept in touch with Georgia the most. Impossible not to, with her penchant for twenty-four-seven texting and late-night calls about nothing. She’d visited me over the years, spontaneous trips to wherever I’d settled for the moment, reminding me that our family hadn’t completely shattered. We still had each other.
Even if we had ongoing debates about major holidays.
“I know you have a whole thing about Christmas being a big con, and I get it. After everything went down with Mom and Dad, it makes sense.” She hitched a shoulder as if unsure of her own words. “I guess. But I don’t agree with you.”
“I didn’t say—”
Her eyes flashed fire. “And I won’t let you pass that attitude on to the littles.”
“I wasn’t going to try to. Sheesh, suddenly, you’re the Christmas police over here.”
“When it comes to you, I am.” Her gentle smile contrasted with the anger that had flared up a second ago. “You came away from what we went through believing it’s all lies. I prefer to think of it as a time where we can set aside all the bad stuff, if only for a little while.”
“That’s just it. It’s all temporary.” That last Christmas togetherhadonly been for a little while. Mom and Dad had lied to us, put on one last big display of family togetherness, only to pull the rug out from underneath us a few months later. I didn’t get how Georgia could come through that thinking any of the empty spectacle a good thing.
“Temporary doesn’t make it bad. Look at your life.” She picked up her fork, smirking as if she’d won a conversational point somewhere.
“Ouch. Say what you really feel, why don’t you?”
“What’s the longest you’ve ever lived in one place?”
I stilled, disliking where this was headed already. Using my life as an example could never be good. “Two years. In Durango.”
