Page 52 of A Very Bossy Christmas
“I understand,” I say. “I’m happy for you guys. Really, I am.”
“I mean, I’m sorry it hurt you,” Brady says, staring down at my feet. “But I’m also not sorry.” He finally takes Hannah’s hand. “Because I always loved her. She belongs with me.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Then why the fuck have you been such a dick all this time?”
Hannah squeezes my brother’s thigh. “I think a better question would be—why is he less of a dick now?” she says with a knowing look.
“Why, indeed,” I muse.
“I’ll let you guys talk some more. Catch up.” Hannah gives my brother a kiss on the cheek and musses my hair as she passes by, leaving us alone together.
It’s been so long since I’ve talked to Brady.
We watch Hannah go and then stare at the twinkling lights on the fake tree and listen to Dean Martin sing “Silver Bells” for the twentieth time tonight, and every single time you hear it you just have to wonder if it’s playing at the right speed… And then he stands up first, and I pop up, and we’re hugging for the first time all year,and fuck you family holidays and long overdue reconciliation, you’re not gonna make me cry.
We let go of each other at the same time, shoving each other away because we aren’t giant pussies. We sit back down, and when I see him touching the corner of his eye with his finger, I do the same. Because I’m so sad for him for being such a fucking cornball.
“I wanted to make you Best Man,” he tells me in a hushed voice. “Asshole.”
“Well, that makes sense,” I say. “I am the best.”
He shakes his head at me.
“And also the worst. I know. I am sorry. I’ll still be in the wedding party though.”
“Yeah. But you were always my best friend. I mean, except for those four years when you weren’t born yet. And for the past half a year that you were being a total dick.” He reaches over to punch my arm.
“Right back at you. Fuckhead.” I squeeze his face with one hand.
He pushes me away. “Whatever. Aiden’s all excited about planning the bachelor party. You better come to that now.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Aiden’s planning it? In Cleveland?”
“It’s gonna suck so hard. You have to come. Come ooooon.” He affects a Boston accent. “The wicked pissah Boston cousins are gonna be there. It’ll be bomb! It’ll be sick!” He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t think the Italians are gonna make it.” His eyes fill with mock terror as he puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “But the Irish, Dec. Save me from the Irish.”
I’m shaking my head because that is a hardno. When we went drinking with the Bostons and the Irish back when Aiden got married, I lost track of two entire days and woke up in Michigan.
“Ach. It’s been donkey’s years since we were on the tear with themmorans. But noooooo. Feck off.”
“You have to. Least you could do.”
“Right. Least I could do for providing you with your bride.” God, there’s nothing better than being able to joke about something that once felt like the end of the world.
“Tell you what. You come to my bachelor party—I’ll be your best man when you marry Maddie.” He gives me a wink. “I can tell Nonna approves.”
“Yeah. She’s ignoring her instead of picking on her.”
“Good sign.”
“Great sign.”
“It seems like it’s…still new.”
I’m dying to tell him everything. He’s a fucking anthropologist—if anyone can help me understand why I felt the need to ask my assistant to pretend to be my girlfriend instead of just asking her out, it’s him. He could put some kind of cultural perspective on this. But I already know what’s up. I didn’t want her to think it’s real, because I thought it would be easier if she wants everything to go back to the way things used to be, in January. I thoughtImight want everything to go back to the way things used to be.
Except I barely even remember how things used to be before I could call her baby without her rolling her eyes at me. Before I knew what it felt like to hear her say my name when she was coming. Before I knew just how hard it would be to pretend that I don’t ever want to go back to the way things used to be.
