Page 35 of Decking the Halls
I turn to Edie. She’s looking up at me, full of adoration and the kind of quiet contemplation that could power me for the next year.
“Yes,” she says. “I do.”
Here we are again. The smell of my mom’s cinnamon rolls and the Christmas tree feels too sweet. Like, cloyingly sweet. My heart stumbles, finding its rhythm in her voice.
“Edie…”
She squeezes my hand tighter. “I love you, Wren.” The words land like a heavy Christmas stocking falling off the holiday mantle. “Maybe it’s too fast, maybe it’s insane… but I’ve been falling for you since the moment you handed me that Christmas tree and treated me like I wasthere.And you liked me just the way I was.”
“This is ridiculous,” Nick mutters.
“No,” I say, pulling Edie close until her head rests against my shoulder. “This isinconvenient to you. That’s what you can’t stand.” I snort. “Two people in your life finally getting what they want… and it might make you look bad… I’m telling you rightnow, Nick, I don’t give a shit if this ruins your stupid political ambitions. You’re in Oregon. Deal with it.”
I look to my parents, something shifting inside me. All of the defiance I’ve been carrying my whole post-pubescent life has mutated into exhaustion these past few years. I was able to ignore it because I moved out and started a business that mattered to me, but… this is it. We can’t move on as a family until all of this is settled,andthey accept Edie as my girlfriend. “I can’t apologize for taking what’s mine. For finally claiming the woman who should’ve been by my side all along. But Iamsorry for the timing. For the chaos.” I sigh. “I know it’s Christmas.”
Dad gets up. “If you hurt her…if you break her heart or treat her badly…”
“You’ll all kill me,” I finish for him. “But I won’t. If you’ve ever learned anything aboutme,Dad, you know that I say what I mean. I don’t go after anything—or anyone—that isn’t important to me. I love this family, despite our differences over the years. Yes, Nick, I even love you, even though that’s like theworstthing I could do.” Don’t look at me. My voice is slipping into a vocal fry as I address the man with whom I shared a womb almost three decades ago. “I don’t believe in crap like blood being thicker than water, dude, but we also can’t choose our family. I’m stuck with you like you’re stuck with me.” I look back at our dad. “I swear, as long as Nick doesn’t throw another pretty boy fit after this, we’ll all get along just fine.”
He studies me for a long moment, his expression softening in a way I haven’t seen in years. Then he glances at Mom, something from their past, something onlytheyunderstand from a time long before their stupid twins were born, understand.
“I suppose,” Dad says, “we should set two more places for Christmas dinner tonight.”
“What?” Nick cracks. “You’re accepting this?”
“I’m accepting that your sister’s happy,” Mom says. “That Edie—who is a long-term family friend, may I add—seems happy. And that sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction. Love doesn’t always come wrapped in a neat bow.” She giggles, amusing herself with her own wit. Yes, Mom, we get it. Christmas joke.
“This isn’t love!”
“Yes, it is,” Mom interrupts, sharp enough to make her baby boy flinch. “Look at them, Nicholas. Really look. When did you ever look at Edie like that?”
Nick opens his mouth, but no words come out.
“You didn’t love her,” Mom continues, and even I’m shocked to see her talk to Nick like this. Normally, this is how she talks to me whenI’min trouble! “You loved theideaof her. The version that made you look good. But Wren loves her. The actual girl we all knew!”
He shakes his head. “After three days…”
“After growing up together,” Mom says, her gaze turning on him like a spotlight. “A lifetime of wanting what she couldn’t have. Of watching you chip away at someone’s soul. I kept thinking Edie was just settling down, becoming more refined…” She shakes her head. “But she wasn’t. She was disappearing.”
“Mom—”
“And you let it happen,” she says. “You encouraged it.”
The room is closing in on us, and even I’m shocked at how open my mother is right now. For once, Nick doesn’t have a defense.
“While Wren stayed away,” Mom goes on, “respected boundaries even when it was killing her.” She turns to me, nodding. “That must have been torture.”
“It was,” I admit. “Every damn day.”
Mom moves closer, stopping in front of Edie. “I owe you an apology. I saw what was happening and said nothing. I told myself it wasn’t my place.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Mrs. Hall.”
“It was my silence.” She reaches out, brushing a stray curl from Edie’s face. “Welcome to the family. Properly this time. As yourself, not as anyone’s accessory.”
Nick exhales through his nose, but it’s so damn loud we all turn toward him. In the end, we always give him the attention he wants. “This is insane.”
“No,” Dad says. “What’s insane is trying to own people instead of loving them.” He looks at Nick with something like grief. “You should go.”
