Page 62 of Fake it 'Til Christmas
“Fine,” I manage, clearing my throat.“But once the Wolfcraft Christmas Spectacular is over, we go back to being sworn frenemies.”
“Sworn frenemies who share custody of a ficus.”
“It should’ve been a dog.”
“Win,” he says, and there’s that exasperated affection again.“You’re not ready for a pet, babe.You’re barely ready for a centerpiece that doesn’t judge you.”
I smile, even though my eyes sting a little.“I’d name the dog Pretzel.”
“I know you would.”He chuckles, then sighs.“As much as I’d love to stay on this call and help you emotionally project onto future canine companions, I’ve got to go.”
I almost say something—something light, something sarcastic.I almost tease him for caring too much.But I don’t.Because I like pretending he does.I like pretending it’s not just a ficus and a lie we built for our families.
I like pretending that maybe, one day, there’ll be a dog.And matching pajamas.And us.
ChapterTwenty-Four
Winnifred: Pretzel says hi.
Soren: I thought we agreed you’re not ready for a dog.
Winnifred: He’s imaginary, Soren.He thrives on chaos and emotional avoidance.He’s basically us.
Soren: Does he bark in passive-aggressive tones?
Winnifred: No, he judges with his eyes.Like your mother.
Soren: Just emailed you the fake itinerary for Thanksgiving.
Winnifred: I don’t open PDFs from men.I’m fake-dating.
Soren: It’s color-coded.
Winnifred: ...I’ll consider it.
Winnifred: I had a dream last night that you were a turkey, and I had to baste you for The Wolfcraft Howler.
Soren: I’ve never been more horrified or aroused.
Winnifred: Welcome to my subconscious.
Soren: Does Pretzel baste dream-me too?
Winnifred: Pretzel has boundaries.You don’t.
Soren: My mother sent me an article titled “Preparing for Fatherhood: How to Swaddle Without Panic.”
Winnifred: At least it’s not “How to Fake a Pregnancy Without Breaking a Sweat.”
Soren: That’s probably in next week’s issue.
Winnifred: You’re welcome for the headlines.
Winnifred: I’ve started decorating my house like we’re deep into November.Do you want me to do the same with yours?
Soren: It’s October.
Winnifred: Time is a construct.Pumpkin spice is eternal.
