Page 23 of My Favorite Holidate

FAKE REAL ICE CREAM

Fable

This will be easier over text. At least, I hope so.

On Wednesday evening, I’m settling into the bus, heading to meet Charlotte at the florist. But first, I fire off a text to her. Best to tell my sister the news first when she can’t see my face.

Fable: So, I’ll be going to the wedding with the best man.

But I don’t send it. Is that too random? Too selfish? I don’t know. My stomach churns with worry as the bus trundles through the city to Kiss MyTulips.

I try again.

Fable: Leo’s buddy asked me on a date…

That’s a little better. Maybe? I drop my head in my hand. Why didn’t I think through the logistics of lying to my sister and…EVERYONE ELSE? I wince, then stare out the window at the city rolling by. Early evening shoppers lug red and white bags from department stores. Busy humans dart in and out of shops, no doubt hunting for the perfect gift.

This is the season when everyone tries their hardest for the people they love. I love my sister, and I’ve always wanted her to be happy. When we were growing up and our parents were arguing, when Mom was hurting, when Dad was trying to win her back, I made it my mission to look out for my younger sister—to make sure she was happy even if Mom and Dad weren’t. Really, is thisthatdifferent?

I handled the situation with our parents when we were kids. Now, I can’t think of this fake romance with Wilder as lying. It’s simply…handling a complicated situation. Yes, that’s it. And handling a complicated situation is an act of love.

On that note, I delete the text and try again.

Fable: Funny thing. I’m going out to dinner this weekend with Wilder Blaine. And we’re going to your wedding together too.

Then I hit send, hoping she’s too frenzied with flower ideas to think much about it.

No such luck. A few minutes later, I get off the bus and walk to the shop, where I spot Charlotte waving me down on the sidewalk, bursting with excitement. “You’re dating your billionaire boss?”

It’s a shriek. More like a shriek heard ‘round the world.

“Yes. I am,” I say, but I lower my hands, the gesture sayinglet’s keep this quiet.

“Details!”

“He asked me to dinner this weekend.” That part’s true.

She grabs my hands, her smile wider than the city block. “And to the wedding? Like, you’re going to the wedding together too? The best man and the maid of honor. Oh my god, Fabes,” she says.

She’s too excited, and I’m too big of a jerk.

But I tell myself all of this is true. Wilder and Iarehaving dinner this weekend. Wewillgo to her wedding together. “Well, we have to do that competition. Someone, cough-cough, is kind of obsessed with games,” I say, deflecting a bit, then I stage whisper, “You and Leo.”

“We are! And this is so cool. I’m so excited,” she says, hooking her arm through the crook of my elbow as we head to the shop to check out succulents for a Christmas Eve wedding bouquet. “But it’s early days,” I caution. “So, we’re taking it slow.”

“Of course, of course. You’d better keep me posted.” We reach the shop. “And I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Charlotte,” I say as a kernel of guilt wedges into my heart. I don’t want to be a liar like my snake of a father. But this is absolutely not the same kind of lie he whispered in my mother’s ears, telling her he was working late again, telling her he was out of town, then telling her he knew it was a mistake and he’d never do it again.Everything I said to my sister was true. When Wilder and I inevitably split up after Christmas, that will be totally true too.

No need to add my drama to everything she’s worrying about while planning a last-minute wedding. If I tell her we’re fake dating, I’ll need to tell her why—that the caterer she recommended for Thanksgiving was enjoying Brady’s eggnog special—then Leo would insist on kicking Brady, his own cousin, out of the wedding party.

That’s not fair to them. It’s not their circus or their monkeys.

Brady’s my monkey and Wilder’s the new ringmaster.

Or something like that.

We head inside, and I spend the next twenty minutes oohing and aahing over green succulents. We choose an unconventional but low-maintenance flower style for her bouquets. There’s a sister shop of Kiss My Tulips in Evergreen Falls, so we can look at their options here and pick up the final arrangement in the cute little Christmas-obsessed town where my sister will get married.

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