Page 107 of Christmas Criminal

My mom brings over a trash bag that she hands to Christina to hold while we throw things in–wrapping paper, food containers, a few pieces of fruit that got squished in the Santa sack.

"How are you doing, Christina?" I ask her, knowing that while the rest of us roll with the punches, she's usually the one who ends up in tears over the holidays.

And she's been suspiciously level-headed.

She sighs, grabbing a piece of wrapping paper from the floor by her feet and shoving it in the trash bag. "I'm fine. I think I'm just a little disappointed, too."

"That's all?"

My mom gives me a look as if to tell me not to poke the bear.

She shrugs. "If I'm being honest, Thanksgiving kind of ruined any idea of what I thought this family could be. I mean, I'm willing to forgive and forget, but the other person has totry, you know? And I never felt like he was sorry about not being there for me."

I nod. "So why even try for Christmas?"

She lets out a long breath. "Well, to be honest, I was trying to train him like a dog."

Nick's head snaps up from where he had been resting it on the back of the couch, a laugh slipping from his throat. "Did I hear that right?"

"You were trying to train him like a dog?" my mom asks, her hand frozen in midair with a half-squished orange.

"Well, yeah. I mean, every year there's so much tension, you know? Even when we do see him, albeit accidentally, it doesn't exactly create this warm, welcoming environment. Thanksgiving taught me that he's not the person I wanted him to be. So, I guess I thought I could Pavlov him into thinking it's always a fun, happy time when he sees us. Like we're so thrilled to see him and he's doing such a good job. I thought maybe that might convince him to show up a little more, and showing up is the first building block to a good relationship." She sighs. "And he couldn't even do that."

My mom rests a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, honey."

Christina shrugs. "Honestly, I told myself that I would give it one more try. I'm okay with being the person in this family that holds out. That gives a little more than she should. Ilikethat that's who I am. But I told myself after carting this fucking cast around for the past few weeks that it's not worth it unless he can give a little extra, too." She presses her lips together. "Honestly, I think I'm disappointed aboutnotbeing disappointed. We're a small family, but a happy one. And I think that's what matters."

My mom leans down to kiss her cheek. "Amen, honey."

"How was it, talking to Harriet?" Christina asks her.

She shoves another balled up piece of wrapping paper into the trash bag. "To be honest, it was kind of validating. I hate that she's going through the same thing I went through–I mean, it's a little different because he left me forher–but the feelings of self-doubt are the same. The overwhelm of having two teenagers to take care of. The fear of being a sole provider and a mom but also a friend as her girls get older." She throws one of the food containers into the bag. "I feel for her. But I'm also kind of proud of myself. It was like a mirror straight back into the past, and you know what? I did it."

"Aw, Mom," I say. "You did itgreat."

She rolls her eyes. "I wouldn't say I always did it great, but I now have two grown-up daughters who seem to be doing alright for themselves. I will take that as a win."

"And you have a Hank," Christina says.

My mom blushes. "And a Hank."

"Do you love him?" Christina asks, a grin spreading across her face.

She shoots my sister a look. "It's new, okay?"

"New and fucking ancient," I interject. "Hanky Panky."

She lets out a long breath, her eyes flitting up to the ceiling. "We're seeing how things go. Hank is a very nice man."

I stop my cleanup to give her a quick hug. "Happy for you, Mom."

She throws an arm around my shoulders, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Happy for you too, sweetie. Even though yours is broken."

We snicker as Nick lifts his head, his visible eyebrow raised. "Not broken. Just wanted a reason for Noelle to baby me for a few weeks."

I snort. "Um, have you met me?"

He gives me a big grin. "Yes. And I happen to know that underneath that prickly exterior, you've got quite a big heart."