Page 46 of Back Home For Christmas

“So, Steve, what have you been up to?” Mom asked, trying to redirect the conversation and pull the attention away from mine and Jay’s pointless squabble.

“Oh, just bartending. I graduated last spring with a communications degree, but I haven’t really decided what to do with that yet, so I’m just trying to get some money in the bank,” he said.

“How’s the market for communications jobs?” Jay asked without any emotion behind his voice.

“Eh, not great. I thought I wanted to be a journalist, but you know, newspapers are dying, so who knows?” he said.

“Sounds like you’ll be bartending for a while,” Jay said in typical Jay fashion. He couldn’t help but shit on everyone around him.

“Not everyone can be a miserable, big city, hot shot,” I said.

“Not everyone can put the responsibility of their failure on someone else’s shoulders,” Jay said. I nearly gasped at the low blow.

“Wow, that’s some strong gaslighting there,” I said. I blinked fast to keep the tears at bay. I knew the whole table was looking at us. I didn’t want to storm away in defeat, but I couldn’t stay there anymore. I pushed away from the table.

“Are we still on for tonight?” Steve asked.

“She’ll be fine. She’s always been kind of dramatic like that,” Aubrey said with a smile. I was tempted to deck her right in the face, but instead I just went to my room.

After having a good, ugly cry, I sat at my desk. I had to finish my essay. I needed a way out, a path forward, some sort of future. Even if it wasn’t perfect, it was better than being stuck under my brother’s shadow forever.

I paused every few words to brush tears away and feel sorry for myself. By the time the sun started to set, I had finished my essay. I didn’t know if it was good enough to pass the class, but it was done. I closed my computer and turned my attention to getting ready for the Christmas party.

I opened my closet, sliding the hangers from one side to the other, trying to decide what aesthetic I should aim for. I had no interest in Steve. He was a nice guy, but there was no spark. Maybe waiting for a spark was stupid, especially since the only spark I had ever felt was with Jay, of all people. I should put something boring on like jeans and a red cable knit, so as not to give Steve any ideas of this being a real date. But Jay would be there, so slinky red dress it was. I had my doubts that he ever gave a shit about me at all, but if I could make him turn his head just once, maybe that would be enough vindication that there was some small regret for being himself and making me cry so much.

When the doorbell rang for the second time, I walked down feeling self-conscious in my dress. I had bought it for a previous Christmas party one year when I was feeling adventurous, but ended up chickening out of wearing it. When I came to the landing, I saw Jay had already opened the door.

“Your date is here,” he said with a tone that could have been disgust or mocking or both.

“Thanks so much,” I said with a wink. He stared at me with intense eyes, trying to communicate something that I wasn’t going to decipher.

“Ready?” I asked Steve, as I grabbed my coat from the hook.

“You look amazing,” he said. I spared one last glance at Jay as we walked out the door. His eyes were clouded with darkness as I shut the door in his face.

“What’s up between you and Jay?” Steve asked as we walked toward town, choosing the last topic that I wanted to talk about.

“Nothing,” I said.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing. You guys seemed friendly at the bar and now it seemed like you want to kill each other.”

“Well, maybe I do. But let’s not talk about Jay,” I said, but then I couldn’t think of anything else to talk about, so we walked in silence.

“How come you haven’t been home since high school?” He asked. Wow, he was 0 for two on the topic choices.

“I’ve just been busy,” I said, not sure why I lied.

“Gonna be a big shot psychologist huh?” He asked.

“Yep, I’ll be able to psychoanalyze all your problems,” I said. “I’ll even give you a discount.”

“Cool,” he said. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked sideways at him. Did he think I was serious? And maybe the more important question was, did he think I was serious about being his therapist—a big ethical no, no—or about a discount? Weird. This was going to be a long night. By the time we got to the Community Hall, I regretted wearing the dress for the thirty seconds that Jay had to drool over it. I was freezing.

Steve pulled open the door for me, and we stepped inside, instantly transported to a winter wonderland. The band played “Silent Night,” and my heart nearly exploded with hurt as I thought of mine and Jay’s dance. I was so pathetic. Pining over a man that had been so awful to me. I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t cry. I wouldn’t cry.

The community hall was done in golds, reds, and greens. With lighted tinsel garlands running the length of the crown molding, Christmas trees in every corner, and giant ornaments hanging from the ceiling. The Christmas committee had really out done themselves. At the far end, there was a raised stage with a band and a dance floor in front. Food and drinks were set up at various tables around the room along with face painting, Santa, and “reindeer” petting, which was really just dogs with antlers, for the kids. All in all, it was always an amazing time. Only this year, I was struggling not to cry like an idiot.

We checked our coat and moved further into the hall before Steve turned to me.

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