Page 56 of Holiday Hopefuls
My ribs twist themselves into oblivion at the mention of Oliver and our clearly outstanding job of romantic deception. And here I thought we wouldn’t be able to pull it off.
Silly me.
“He knows about my feelings,” Connie continues, “for Aaron. Chris has always known.” She snorts. “He knew even before I did.”
My sister isn’t usually this talkative. But I take the shot anyway. “How long have you liked Aaron?” Chancing a peek, I have the privilege of a full-on flush. “I promise I won’t say anything.”
Connie shifts in her seat to face me. “Do you remember when the Fairchilds moved in next door?”
“I was ten,” I nod. “They came to my Scooby-Doo birthday party a few weeks later. Their mom had learned I wanted to be a teacher and they gave me a chalkboard and that student desk?” Remembering Ian sitting in a desk that was much too small for him for all the hours I made him play school with me brings a smile to my face.
Connie’s musical laugh reminds me of holiday bells. “That’s right. Well—” she sighs “—I remember looking out my bedroom window and seeing their moving van. Their parents were talking to the movers; giving directions I’m guessing. And then he marched out of the van carrying a huge box and wouldn’t let anyone else take it from him. While our family was taught to simply hire something out or let workers take care of things for us because we’re fortunate enough to be able to afford it, here was this guy. A guy who was clearly from our world, but was also so capable. He wasn’t all buttoned up and proper like those hiding behind the ivory walls in the Rutherford mansion. And he understood how music can speak to your soul. It was refreshing.”
“But you didn’t know right away how you felt?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No, not immediately. I just knew I found him intriguing.” Connie runs a hand through loose hair, freshly cut to shoulder-length. “I started spending more time in the yard, hoping to run into him. Hanging around you when you would see him and Ian so I wouldn’t seem out of place.” Connie grins.
I can’t help grinning right back. “You could’ve just joined us, you know.”
“I know … ”
“But Chris wouldn’t have wanted to,” I finish for her.
She nods. “And I couldn’t just leave him. He’s been my partner since birth. I felt like I would be abandoning him—betraying him—if I did that.”
“It’s okay for you all to have independent hobbies, Connie,” I whisper. “Just because you spend time apart doesn’t mean you’re doing anything wrong.”
“Trust me, I have no interest in going to the gym,” she laughs. “I’ll leave that one to him.”
“The space movies?”
“Ugh,” she groans, “yeah, he definitely needs another friend for those.”
“Or a girlfriend,” I snicker.
“Speaking of … ” Connie raises a brow.
Oh no. Please don’t bring him up.
“Is Oliver really not going to come to Aspen Point with you? Even I’ll admit that I find that surprising.”
And there it is. “Why?” It comes out harsher than I mean it, but Connie sits there with her soft-spoken patience.
When I don’t give her anything else, she rolls emerald eyes. “Because of how he looked at you the entire night at Thanksgiving.”
I don’t bother holding back the derisive snort. And silently curse myself for accepting her request for a ride home. Only a few more miles and I’ll be home free.
Connie’s brow climbs higher. “You disagree? When was the last time you saw him?”
“Look, I don’t really know how much more I’ll see of him, if I’m being honest,” I sigh. There, that’s not totally untrue. Especially since I currently have no plans to see him again. And I am one hundred percent refusing to admit how I don’t love that to someone I’ve convinced otherwise.
“Why not?” Connie demands.
Rolling my neck back and forth, I beg the car travel gods to make these last few minutes go by faster. “It-it’s just, it’s complicated.”
“You love him, he clearly loves you—” she shrugs “—what’s complicated about that?”
“Because it’s fake, okay?” I shout. “There, are you happy? It was all fake. I admit it. We fooled you all.” The only sound in the vacuum of Goaty is some folk song playing through the radio. My face burns at the confession, and I keep my eyes locked on the road while I pray that Connie’s suddenly become deaf.
