Page 107 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

“It’s funny, really,” Elliot says. “Just something we wanted to set straight.”

“Funny?” Marlene says, realizing that her suspicions are not accurate.

“We needed to come clean,” I say, ready to rip that bandage right off. No fluffing up the false. Just truth.

May’s white head jerks to me, her eyes like little blue marbles. She lifts one brow, and I give her a tiny I-have-to-do-thisnod.I think she understands because she sighs, her shoulders dropping in defeat.

“Come clean?” Jocelyn says, eyes squinting. She runs a hand over Parker’s back, her new diamond glittering.

“Yes,” I say, gulping down the word.

Elliot clears his throat, and I am happy to let him take the lead—this is his family after all. “So, the day of our Christmas card photo—you all remember that day?”

“Of course,” Marlene says. “Biggest hit yet, by the way. Everyone loves that card.” She grins, so pleased with herself.

“I’m sure they do, Mom.” There’s the tiniest of tremors in Elliot’s tone, and I squeeze his hand beneath the table. “Anyway, ah, you all met Bonnie that day. But really, I had just met her too.”

“Except for the notes,” I say, chiming in. “He did write me notes.”

Marlene holds a hand to her chest. “I love a good love letter.”

“Um. Yeah, well, they weren’t exactly love letters.” Elliot coughs, glancing at me, but I’m not throwing him beneath the note-writing bus. We’re in this together. “Anyway, what we’re trying to say is, this thing between Bonnie and me, well, it was fake.”

Marlene’s brows knit and Evelyn tilts her head, peering at her brother.

“But it’s not anymore,” I add quickly. “We were faking—for, well, for reasons that aren’t important anymore—” We also decided not to throw Gran under the bus. Neither of us are mad at her. How could we be?

“They were good reasons at the time,” I say, stumbling over my words. But with Elliot’s hand in mine and Noel at my feet, I’m doing better than I expected to. “See, while we were pretending, we got to know each other better, we started having feelings, and now we’retogether.” I swallow. “For real.”

“For real,” Marlene repeats.

“Yes, but it’s new, not three months old—” I say, getting that truth out there. They need to know.

“I thought we’d said four months,” Elliot says—which is completely beside the point.

“Either way. It’s not however old you thought it was,” I say, my breath and words a nervous huff. My heart pounds in my chest, reminding me to add, “And we’re sorry. We never meant to deceive you or upset you or?—”

“We know,” Marlene says, shaking her head, her brow wrinkling not in a furrow but in sympathy.

“What do you mean, you know?” Elliot says.

Evelyn tilts her head. “We’ve known all along,” she says in a soothing tone.

“Not all along,” Jocelyn adds. She wrinkles her nose. “But for the most part.”

“About?” I am utterly confused.

“Your relationship being fake,” Jocelyn says, and Parker nods beside her.

“Wait.” Elliot’s hand slips from mine and smacks the kitchen table. “You knew that we weren’t really together? All along?”

“Ummm… for most of the time—all except that first day. Mom told me.” Marlene taps her chin in thought. “And then I told the girls a day or two later.”

“So basically, the whole two weeks?” Elliot says, and he sounds mad—weren’t we trying to avoid anger? Aren’t we happy no one is mad at us?

“Yes, but sweetheart, it’s so sweet of you to want to tell us.” Marlene blows her son a little kiss from across the table.

“Very thoughtful,” David adds.

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