Page 45 of Merry Kissmas

“Are you going to hit the runs today?”Pierce asks me.

“I’m not sure.I might scratch another movie off the list.”

“You can watch movies after vacation.The two of you should be out there on the mountains.”Mom arranges the yogurt parfait bar on the butcher block behind the table.She goes back and forth to make sure there are bowls and spoons.

“I’d love to go with you,” Pierce says, turning on the burner and plopping butter on the griddle.

“Where did you learn to cook?”I ask, surprised by his skills.He doesn’t seem like the type.

He looks out of the corner of his eyes at my mom, then back at the pancakes.“Um… boarding school.”

My mouth falls open.“You went to boarding school?”

He nods and spoons the batter onto the hot griddle.

Mom is obviously intrigued because she leans her hip along the counter.“From what age?”

“Eleven to eighteen.”

I’m not sure how comfortable he is talking about it, based on his body language.He’s more closed off than I’ve ever seen him.

“Oh… did you enjoy it?”my mom asks.

“Mom,” I say, giving her a look to say stop asking questions.

“It’s okay.”He picks up the spatula and stands straight, looking from my mom to me.“My parents died when I was eleven, so…”

I feel my mom’s eyes on me, but I can’t look away from Pierce.“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He shrugs.“It was a long time ago.In their will, they asked for Andrew’s parents to be my guardians but wanted me sent to boarding school.Andrew’s dad wanted to respect his brother’s wishes, and so he did.”

He studies the pancakes, flipping each one, and I take the moment to look at my mom.

There are tears in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall, placing her hand on Pierce’s shoulder.“I’m sorry to hear about your parents.They’d be proud of the man you’ve turned out to be.I mean, I know I don’t know you very well, but from what I do know, you’re a good man.”

“Thank you, Gwen.Like I said, it was a long time ago… anyway, everyone had to work in the kitchen at some point, so I learned a lot.”He nods and takes the pancakes off the griddle.

The door opens, and my dad stands there, holding bags full of groceries.

“Let me help you,” I say, rushing off the stool before anyone else gets a chance.

“Thanks,” Dad says.“What’s going on in here?You all look like you’re at a funeral.”

“Oh god.”I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Abe,” my mom says with annoyance and takes a bag from me.

“What did I say?”He sets the other bags on the counter and unpacks them.

“I just told them that my parents died when I was eleven.”Pierce says it so nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t devastating.

My dad frowns.“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Like I said, it was a long time ago.”

Pierce keeps saying that same thing, but can time really change the fact that you lost your parents at such a young age?That has to leave scars.I understand that you can get used to living alone, but it just confirms what I already feared—Andrew is Pierce’s only family.

I can’t imagine not having the support system of my parents and siblings.What must that feel like?And then your parents ask for you to go to boarding school to live with a bunch of strangers in the midst of your grief?

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