Page 27 of Mistletoe Mistake
I picture the look on his face, knowing how much shit he gives me because I hate picking up groceries.
“It’s just a few things I forgot to order. What do you need?”
“Okay, okay, I can take a hint. I just wanted to see how things are going at the house.”
“You remember calling a few days ago, right? Not much has changed since then.” I scrub a hand over my jaw and make a note to shave tomorrow.
“Sure, what about Holly? Is everything okay with her?”
For a moment I worry that he knows, but that’s ridiculous. There is no way it’s possible.
“She’s fine, I guess. I haven’t seen much of her.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.
“Really? I was hoping you would keep her company. You know what she’s like this time of year.” His voice is full of reproach and I worry that I’ve been too convincing in my apathy.
“We had dinner together last night and she seems good. She was talking about some book club she has tomorrow night. I don’t think you need to worry about her, B,” I try to reassure him.
“Okay, that’s good to hear. Any idea when you can get back to your apartment?”
“No.” I sigh. “Max, my super called not long after I spoke to you on Sunday and said they had run into some trouble with the pipes, so it would be another couple of days. I’ve been trying to get hold of him today, but haven’t had any luck.” I don’t mention that I’m not trying too hard, more than happy to stay right where I am for the time being.
“Huh, I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon. Anyway, I’ll let you go do your shopping. Just keep an eye on Holly, okay? It’ll give me some peace of mind.”
“Of course I will.”
After I’ve hung up, I sit there for a moment trying to figure out what I’m feeling. There’s definitely some guilt over the lying. But stronger than that is the feeling that we’re doing the right thing.
Holly and I need to tell him face-to-face, not over the phone.
Confident once again in the decisions we have made, I jump out of my truck and head inside to face the crowds.
It’s time to put step three of ‘Get Holly in the Christmas Spirit’into action.
* * *
“Why does yours look so much better than mine?”
I take a step back and look at our gingerbread houses side by side, trying to resist the urge to gloat.
Because, yeah, mine kicks ass.
“What did you use for the shingles on the roof?” There is a tiny little crease between her eyebrows as she frowns down at my house.
“Sliced almonds.”
“Where did you get them?” she shrieks, waving an indignant finger at my roof.
“They’re right there,” I reply sardonically, pointing to the pile of junk I bought for us to decorate the pre-made houses.
“Oh.” She folds her lips between her teeth and crosses her arms over her chest, just staring at our creations. “Okay, I’m going to need you to pretend this never happened.”
“Not a chance in hell, I killed it. I say we take photos to document my victory.” I pull my phone out and start to snap away when I notice something missing. “What happened to your candy canes? I saw you take a bunch.”
“I ate them.” She shrugs unapologetically.
I swipe all the leftover food into the shopping bag and when Holly’s not looking, I toss Gypsy, who is asleep under the dining table, one of her dog treats, that I’ve taken to carrying in my pocket. She opens her eyes when she hears the treat land, gobbles it up and goes straight back to sleep.
“You really like the whole peppermint thing, don’t you?” Not that I’m complaining.
