Page 5 of Make You Mine This Christmas
“Yep,” I say, draining the rest of the bottle. “I’m going to need another one of these. Can I get you one?”
Cole shakes his head. “I’m not even sure I’ll finish this one, but I didn’t want you to drink alone. Help yourself. You can always sleep on the couch if you need to.”
The reality that I have no reason to wake up early requiring me to be home and in bed at a reasonable time hits me. I grab another local Christmas ale from the fridge to push the thought away. Fuck, there’s a dark road if I let myself go down it.
“Can you grab me a Diet Coke?” Blaire whispers from behind me, and I almost shatter something breakable in this kitchen for the second time tonight.
“Jesus, you guys are quiet,” I say, opening the fridge again and grabbing a can from the door.
“I think the ability to tiptoe unlocks somewhere around the fifth night in a row you see three a.m.” She cracks the can and winces at the loud noise it makes. After a beat of silence, she lets out a breath. “I ordered from Joe’s, food should be here in a?—”
The sound of the doorbell interrupts her sentence, and we swear in unison. She heads for the living room, but I redirect her to the front door. “We’ve got them.”
Right on cue, Cole is in the kitchen, dropping a quick peck on his wife’s mouth before following me into the living room.
“Hi, Melody.” I pick her up and she stops crying, her eyes wide as she stares at my face. “That’s right, Uncle Austin’s got the magic touch.” I bounce her lightly as I walk to the kitchen. Blaire drops the bags on the table.
“I don’t know how many more delivery drivers this town has we haven’t yelled at in the last four months, but there’s one less now,” she says, grabbing two pre-measured bottles off the counter and mixing them, one in each hand.
“If I didn’t know how biology worked, I might think that’s how you got into this situation in the first place,” I say, looking at her double jack-off motions meaningfully.
She rolls her eyes and doesn’t bother responding, reaching for Melody.
“That’s fair. Not my best work. I can feed her if you’d rather have a hot meal for once. But I know you’ve been gone all day.”
Blaire smiles, her arms still out, so I hand over her daughter. “I’ve gotten pretty good at eating one-handed once they burp. If you want to grab stuff to serve, that would be great.”
I nod, giving Melody’s head one last brush before heading to the cupboards to grab what we need.
“I sent an email to all the festival volunteers and employees before I left the gym asking if anyone could pick up the extra elf shifts,” Blaire says over the sounds of two girls enthusiastically enjoying their dinner. “I’m worried it still won’t be enough. Word’s already spreading about how great our new Santa is—we’re booked for the next week solid and there are already emails asking if we’ll open up more spots.”
I’m glad I’m facing away from them, so they can’t see the mixture of emotions I know dash across my face. Happiness that Brody will bring so much to the festival, pain at hearing how good he is, and worry I’m about to do something stupid.
It’s been silent for a long while, and I turn around to find Blaire and Cole engaged in some sort of silent conversation. Guess there’s no getting out of talking about this.
“Guys, it’s fine. You’re my best friends. My ex is playing an integral role in the festival, and it sounds like he’s going to be a huge draw. He’s going to come up. I’m fine.”
“Can you say it without a wounded, sad Austin look in your eyes?” Blaire asks, concern clear in hers. I sigh, but can’t fight the smile at how fiercely my best friend’s wife cares about the people she loves.
“I’ll work on it.” I pull the containers out of the paper bag and start scooping pasta and salad onto our plates. The girls are blissed out, milk drunk. I get back up to grab burp cloths for each of them, grabbing my beer from where I left it on the counter.
“Well, luckily you’re booked up at Sullivan’s for the rest of the season,” Blaire says, scooping a bite of pasta into her mouth before adjusting the baby upright and patting her back gently. “That gives you an ironclad out, if even a fraction of you feels like avoiding your ex isn’t reason enough.”
My eyes stay trained on my plate. Getting the perfect dressing to salad ratio suddenly needs all my attention.
“Austin,” she says, forcing me to look at her. “You still have Sullivan’s, right?”
I lean back in my chair, running my hand through my hair. “They always do staffing cuts after the fall festival ends at Halloween, before they transition to the tree farm. The oldest O’Neil kid was on the list to lose his job, and apparently his dad’s on the road until the New Year, and the baby had to go to the emergency room...” I trail off, my eyes bouncing between my best friends’ eyes, finding a mixture of pity and fondness.
“What? He doesn’t have his license, and he can walk to the farm. I have a license and a reliable vehicle, so I rideshare and do food delivery. It’ll be fine. You know there’s always someone willing to hire me over in the Glen. I need to figure out what I want to do next.” I’ve worked at most of the businesses around Winterberry Glen in one capacity or another, whether directly or providing a service there from somewhere else. It works well for how quickly I get restless.
Cole clears his throat. “You’ll definitely find something else soon. And I’m sure with everyone visiting both towns for the festival, there’s a lot of rides and orders to pick up. But since Halloween, Austin? It’s been three weeks.”
“Okay, Dad. You have enough going on with your actual kids. You didn’t need to worry about your grown-up-best-friend kid.”
“I mean, yeah, I’m worried, but it’s not—” Blaire lays her hand on his arm, and he takes a deep breath. “Just because the girls are here doesn’t mean I don’t want to know about your life, have you over for a beer, and watch twenty minutes of TV at a time.”
“I know, man.” And I do know he means it, to his core. But I also know a person only has so much emotional capacity, and I can take care of myself.
