Page 55 of Hard to Take

"Really?" She arches an eyebrow, skepticism evident in her voice.

"Yes. Gallery inquiries. Three commissions with deposits.” I try to keep my voice even, fighting the urge to be defensive.

Before Mom can continue, the doorbell rings. We all look at each other, confused.

"You aren't expecting anyone?" Dad asks Mom.

Since no one else is moving, I get up. "I'll get it," I say, grateful for the interruption.

I open the door, and a gust of snow blows in. A little yip of happiness comes from my feet, and I look down to see Waffles, adorned in reindeer antlers, staring up at me.

And then I see Miles, snowflakes dusting his hair and shoulders.

"Hey." I'm breathless, and it's not from the cold air. "What are you doing here?"

"I didn't want to interrupt. Just wanted to bring some holiday cheer." He passes over a bottle of the wine I've been trying to order for my mom.

I can't believe it. "You're unreal." My heart swells with gratitude.

Our hands meet on the bottle, and a zing of electricity passes between us. He grins, and Waffles yips again, pawing at my leg.

"Who is it?" Jay calls from behind me.

"Miles. Look what he brought." I hold up the wine.

Jay appears in the hallway, his face lighting up when he sees Waffles. "Hey, buddy!" He crouches down, and Waffles bounds over, tail wagging furiously.

Mom and Dad join us in the entryway, Mom's eyes widening slightly at the unexpected guests.

“Hey, it’s been a long time, Mr. and Mrs. Ellis. Good to see you.”

“Miles,” my mother says, polite but reserved. “Hello again.”

Dad, however, breaks into a warm grin. "Come on in, it's freezing out there."

As Miles steps inside, shaking snow from his boots, Waffles zips around our feet, investigating every corner of the unfamiliar space.

"Oh my," Mom says, eyeing the dog warily. "He's... energetic."

"Waffles is a sweetheart," I assure her, scooping him up. "Here, Mom, want to hold him?"

Mom hesitates, but as I place Waffles in her arms, his little face tilted up adoringly, I see her expression soften. "I suppose he is rather cute," she admits, scratching behind his ears.

Meanwhile, Miles passes over the wine to my dad.

"That's very thoughtful of you,” Dad says approvingly.

As we all move back to the living room, Waffles now contentedly curled in Mom's lap, I catch Miles' eye. “Thank you,” I mouth. He winks at me, and I feel a flutter in my chest.

"So, Miles," Mom begins, “How did you and Brooke meet?"

"Through Jay," Miles says, glancing at me. "We've known each other for a few years now."

“I see,” Mom says, her tone bordering on dismissive. "Well, I do wish you’d known her before she decided to be an internet sales person.”

The warmth in my chest fades. “Is this about the Vivaro posts?” I cut a look at my brother.

He lifts both palms, but Mom’s already going on.

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