Page 2 of A Cozy Holiday
Somewhere between Parker’s “Wait, I can explain” and “My middle name is Nicholas,” something soft nudges my ankles, and I look down to find Jubilee, wide-eyed and trembling. I scoop her up, bracing her behind the open umbrella.
“You—you sicko!” I yell. “In front of my sweet Jubilee? How could you?”
“That’s exactly how, Joy! That’s exactly how. All you care about is your animals and your patients and your work and your stupid vet books and your sad little bunny. What about me, huh? What about whatIneed?”
“Jubilee isn’t sad. She has anxiety!” I yell, like that will make the situation better.
I look at my boyfriend. Really look at him. He hasn’t shaved in weeks, and I spot a white glob of toothpaste in his real beard. He looks so pathetic that I almost feel sorry for him. But inevitably, like all men who manage to garner sympathy with their helplessness, he opens his mouth.
“I’ve been trying, Joy. I really have. But you never take any time off work, and you’re like an ice queen. You’re so fucking dreary and cold all the time.”
My mouth drops open.
A guy dressed as Santa—whose ass is still hanging out—is callingmean ice queen.
The Grinch, who has finally found her pants, sidesteps past me, and I let her. The last thing I need is another witness to the mortifying scene that’s unfolding.
“That’s a lie.”
“You didn’t even cry duringMarley & Melast weekend!” Parker yells. “I put it on to see if you had any emotions, but you didn’t cry! What kind of psycho doesn’t cry during that movie?”
“You mean the movie I practically live in every day? I put down dogs for a living, Parker. If I cried every time one died, I’d never be able to do my job.”
I haven’t cried since I lost my first patient in vet school, and Miriam told me that if I didn’t learn to compartmentalize, this career would eat me alive.
“Yeah? Well, what are you feeling now?”
White-hot fury, actually.
I love my job. My emotions arefine.
And how fucking dare he try to justify cheating on me in our bed?
“I was excited,” I say, my voice steady. “I came home early to tell you that Miriam shut down the clinic for the month for renovations. She said I had to take a vacation because I haven’t taken one in eight years. Eight! Apparently, the whole practice has known for weeks, and they kept it from me because everyone thinks I live at the office.”
“Even your coworkers think you work too much!” Parker raises his eyebrows like that’s some big gotcha. “They had to wait until the last minute to tell you. That’s not normal.”
“Not normal?” I toss the umbrella aside. “You wanna see not normal?”
“See! You’re making this all dramatic.”
“You’re the one wearing a Santa suit with your bits hanging out,”I snarl before I storm into the hallway.
“Don’t kink shame me, Joy!” Parker yells at my back.
I place Jubilee in her cage across the hall, then snatch a black trash bag from under the sink.
“What are you doing?” Parker asks when I return.
I wrench open his walk-in closet. “You didn’t mind me working so much when I was the one buying you all these stupid shirts.”
“I don’t need your money. I needyou, babykins.” He attempts to wrap his arms around me. “Your emotion. Your time.”
I break out of his hold. “Well, what I need is for you to get the hell out of here.”
“Joy, this ismyapartment. I’m not leaving.”
“I’m not leaving either!” I stuff his stupid graphic tees into the bag until it rips, and the metal hangers pop out. Then I get to work on his old merch from his pro days. “It’s time for Santa to go back up the chimney.”
