Page 6 of Accidentally Under Your Tree

Me: Mom said they will be in a couple of hours.

Shay: Hopefully, her bringing a man will make this visit less dramatic. I cannot take another holiday of Lawrence, all heartbroken and depressed.

Me: One can only hope.

I finished the French braid that ended at my shoulders, with only a few of my curls escaping around my temples. Stepping into the hallway, I smiled a greeting to my dad sitting behind the desk in the study. Through the study's other entrance, I saw my mom considering three little gold decorative snowmen displayed on the end table. She pinched one of the hats and turned it forty-five degrees.

When she noticed me watching her, she looked up with the tilt of her lips.

"Is it just right now?" Dad asked, still typing in a slow, deliberate cadence.

"I think so."

"Looks good, Mom."

"Thanks, Lizzy."

Just like that, the argument in the kitchen would go unresolved until the next time we repeated the pattern.

I looked down at my phone as a new message came through, only a little disappointed that it was from Shay and not Will. He hadn't said he would text me today, but I hoped he would.

Why hadn't I gotten his number?

Shay: You stopped texting last night. What happened?

Me: …This is not the proper medium for this conversation.

Shay: NO SHIT! Give me something, don't leave me in suspense.

I paused typing out a quick response, when Mom opened the front door, and my sister walked through. Her dark blue wool coat tailored perfectly to her petite frame, and matched her, and mom's, eyes. Her smile was so bright it created its own light source. She looked healthy and happy. For that, I was grateful.

"Rosebud!" Mom cried out.

So much for a couple of hours.

They hugged each other tight.

"Is Rosie home?" Dad stood, his office chair rolling against the bookshelf behind him.

Rose's boyfriend stepped just inside the door. The first thing I noticed about him was his hands. He carried the suitcase with strong, square fingers. His knuckles were almost as wide as the plastic handle. Capable hands.

Blood rushed from my head, and I blinked, suddenly dizzy.

No way.

But I knew the truth even before I took in the scruff on his sharp jaw. Or the lines bracketing his warm smile. Or his dark eyelashes surrounding his moss green eyes.

Rat. Bastard.

four

Will

Six nights before Christmas

I shifted the rental car into park outside of a scenic little brick ranch. Icicles clung from the gutters on either side of the porch. A wreath of what looked like real pine boughs hung on the front door. It was adorable.

And I was going to go inside of this adorable house and lie to its occupants.

---