Page 132 of Faking All the Way
After my parents split, the holidays were always tense, my mom and I pretending everything was fine, neither of us talking about my dad or acknowledging the hole in our family. This is the first true family holiday I’ve been part of in years, and the evening turns out to be a ton of fun.
More gifts get exchanged—mostly small things, stocking stuffers and things for the kids. We eat way too much food and drink wine and cider, and Sam tells stories about Antarctica that have everyone laughing and asking questions, showing pictures on her phone of penguins doing ridiculous things.
By the end of the evening, everyone’s exhausted and content. Full of food and laughter and the warmth of being together. Kids are getting cranky, adults are yawning, and the energy is starting to wind down.
I hug my dad goodbye before he and Audrey leave. “Thanks for coming tonight.”
“Thank you for inviting me,” he says, keeping his weight on his good leg as he zips up his coat. “This was… it was really nice. Being part of a family celebration again. I forgot what it felt like.”
“Get used to it,” I tell him with a grin. “Because I plan on doing this a lot more. And you’re part of it now, old man, whether you like it or not.”
He hugs me tighter for a second, and I can feel him trying to get control of his emotions. “I’d like that. I’d really like that.”
“I’ll come by tomorrow,” I promise. “Maybe we can work on that dresser in the basement.”
“Sounds good.” He pulls back, wiping at his eyes quickly. “Merry Christmas, son.”
“Merry Christmas, Dad.”
Shortly after they leave, Sam and Kat and I head back to the cabin too. In the car, Sam and Kat are still talking nonstop, catching up on everything, their words tumbling over each other in that way best friends have where they can have three conversations at once and somehow keep track of all of them.
I just drive and listen, content to hear Kat so happy as she tells Sam about the book deal, about moving to Denver, about all the plans we’re making together.
“Wait, you’re moving to Denver?” Sam asks, her voice going up. “Like, actually moving? Not just visiting?”
“Actually moving,” Kat confirms.
“Holy shit. This is serious.”
“Itisserious,” Kat agrees, glancing at me with a soft expression. “Really serious.”
Back at the cabin, we all get out and tromp through the snow to the porch. Kat immediately says Sam should take the main cabin bedroom. That she’ll stay in the guest house with me.
Sam gives us a knowing look that makes Kat blush furiously, her cheeks going pink even in the dim porch light. “I’m not going to argue with that arrangement. You two clearly have… plans.”
“Sam!” Kat’s voice goes up.
“What? I’m just saying, I’m not trying to be a third wheel here.”
“You’re not a third wheel.”
“Kat, babe, I love you, but I amdefinitelya third wheel right now.” She smirks. “I’ll see you first thing in the morning. Right now, I’m going to take a very long shower and sleep in a bed that isn’t a cot in a research station. You two go do your thing.”
They hug goodnight, holding on for a long moment, promising to catch up more tomorrow morning before Sam has to fly back to finish her research stint.
“Thank you,” Sam says to me over Kat’s shoulder. “For bringing me home. For making her this happy.”
I give a serious nod. “Anytime.”
Then Kat and I head into the guest house. It’s finally just the two of us, after a long day of family and noise and celebrations.
We go up to the bedroom, and I deliberately close the curtains. We left them open a lot when she was across the way in the main cabin, those early days when we were texting and watching each other.
But now I want her all to myself.
Kat starts to get ready for bed, tugging off her jeans. The sight of her wearing only my hockey jersey affects me in a sudden rush that catches me off guard. She looks so fucking beautiful like this. The jersey hangs to mid-thigh, her legs bare and perfect. Her hair is messy from the day, her face still glowing with happiness.
She notices me looking, pausing with her jeans in her hand. “What?”
