Page 2 of Snowbound with the Santas

Before I can say no, Mom bustles into the bathroom wearing a deep blue velvet gown that delicately swishes across the tiled floor. She moves so gracefully that it looks like she’s floating. Her wrinkled, tight face loses its smile the moment she looks me in the eye.

“Rayne, why do you look so sour? Anyone would think you’re being forced to be here.”

“Technically—” I begin, but she cuts me off immediately.

“Winter in Austria with your entire family. What more could you ask for at this time of year? And your Uncle Cecil has been so looking forward to seeing you, so wipe that look off your face, okay?”

Her hands are on me in a blink, further tightening the straps of the bodice and brushing my hair away from my bare shoulders.

“Mom—”

“You chose hoops? Don’t be silly, dear. In a dress like this, you should be wearing the dangling teardrops. Change. And choose a deeper lip color. You look like you’re going to some sort of frat party.”

My mouth drops open in shock, and Nina can barely hold in her snort of laughter.

“And turn that off.” Mom spins around and turns off the radio, ending the soft Christmas music behind the dull tones of a newscaster describing the influx of awful weather. “Now hurry up and meet me downstairs.”

With that, she’s gone and a chill skims down my bare arms. She never listens. No surprise there.

“If you turned up to a frat party looking like that…” Nina laughs loudly. “Sweetie, you would be mocked to high heaven.”

“I know,” I groan, turning back to the mirror and removing my hoops. “She probably saw something in a magazine and decided she knew exactly what a frat party was.”

“Also, I always thought Cecil was your father, the guy who always sends those flowers?”

“Nah he’s my uncle. Not even, actually. Family friend. Stuck by my mom for as long as I can remember, so he may as well be. Much better than my good-for-nothing sperm donor.”

Nina groans in agreement, then she sighs. “The hoops looked good.”

“I know.” Hoops aside, I select the earrings Mom asked for. “But if I’m to survive the next six or so weeks here, I have to keep her happy, so… teardrops it is.”

“Will it help if I say you look like a princess?” Nina offers, winking at me through the screen.

“A little. I wish you were here.”

“Me too.”

“Alright, I'd better go before she comes back and drags me down to meet everyone by the hair. Then I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Okay, I love you, Rayne. Send me lots of pictures!”

“Will do, love you too.”

We quickly exchange some blowing kisses, then Face Time ends and a heavy silence falls around me.

I suddenly feel so very alone, singled out in this vast ski lodge where more people than I’ve ever met have come to celebrate Christmas with us at my mother's request. With my next breath, my deep red bodice suddenly constricts, and I puff out my cheeks, trying to admire myself in the mirror.

Just pretend. It’s for family. Just pretend.

Smile and pretend.

I know many would kill to be in this position—born into wealth, having every need tended to from a young age, and having the privilege of spending the entire winter up in the mountains with all their family.

It doesn’t feel that way to me.

It feels more like a prison, a gilded cage I have to smile about because the people pleaser in me can’t say no to my mother.

Forcing another couple of deep breaths, I double-check my earrings and slide my phone into the matching clutch. This bodice is so tight, my breasts almost knock into my chin if I look down while breathing in, and yet the skirt is so airy that it almost feels like it isn’t even there as I walk.

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