Page 104 of Snowed In
“I’m not giving you a talk, but I think it would help if you stopped taking everything I say the wrong way.”
“Well, maybe you could start by not assuming the worst of me every time I do anything.”
“I don’t assume the—”
“No?” My voice rises before I can stop it. “Sure feels like you do.”
He doesn’t deny it this time. “I’m just trying to understand you.”
“What’s there to understand? I’ve done every single thing I’ve been expected to do in my life, and you still think I’m a disappointment.”
“I don’t think you’re a disappointment, I think you’re unhappy.”
“Unhappy?” No. “I’m not unhappy. Why would I be unhappy? I’ve got a promising career, a great apartment, a girlfriend who—” I cut myself off, swallowing the lie.
Dad’s brow furrows at my silence, but I don’t let him get a word in. “Who’s going to be waiting in the snow if I don’t get going,” I finish. “I’m going to be late.”
“Christian—”
“I’ve got to pick her up and help Andrew, and I’ve got six million emails to respond to, and my head is…” Pounding.It’s pounding now. I’ll have to stop off at the chemist in the village. I stuff my laptop into my bag, swinging it over my shoulder. “Your heating’s fixed, by the way. Thought I’d forgo the gift voucher and get you a new boiler for Christmas. And I still maybe need to learn a lot of things, but at least I ask for help when I need it. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Christian,” he calls in his dad voice, but I ignore him, my chest tight as I head out of the house and away from him.
TWENTY-TWO
MEGAN
It’s shaping up to be one of those Very Good days.
I mean, as if I would ever say no to a hot tub.Yes, Christian, I will help you collect some food in exchange for spending a few hours in a luxury cabin I’d never be able to afford otherwise. I will make that sacrifice foryou. You’rewelcome.
That is to be my afternoon, and this morning I woke up to snow. Proper snow. Not crappy melty snow. No. This was a big white fairy-tale blanket of it. That coated the entire garden and came down for a good hour in thick white smudges that blotted out the entire sky. The news reports said it might stick around for Christmas Day and everything, which made me giddy and Mam worried, so I wasn’t surprised when she asked Aidan and me to pick up a final few pieces in the shop before “people started losing the run of themselves.”
I didn’t mind, just packed a change of clothes and texted Christian to meet me in the village when he was ready. I want to take some pictures in the cabin, so I take my time getting ready, taking care with my hair and makeup until Aidan has to come and physically yank me from my room because he “doesn’t have all day” even though he literally does.
He’s in a bad mood. That much is obvious. I didn’t hear him come home last night, and he slept in as usual, so the version of my brother who insists on driving is a grumpy silent one. One who doesn’t like me attempting to make conversation or singing along, which is too bad for him because I love Christmas songs, which means I am singing along alot.
“What’s got you in such a good mood?” he finally asks halfway through “Wonderful Christmastime.”
“What’s got you in a bad one?”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
He doesn’t respond, his eyes darting to my knitting, where I sew on the final adjustments. I may have gone overboard with Molly’s sweater, but I’m hoping that’s the vibe Christian meant. “Who’s that for?” Aidan asks.
“You,” I lie, and he huffs. “You don’t like it?”
“It’s a bit much.”
“It’s for Andrew’s girlfriend. Christian wanted it festive.”
“Well, whatever he wants,” Aidan mutters, and I almost laugh.
“Why are you trying to pick a fight with me?”
“I’m not.”
