Page 10 of The Holiday Fakers
Mia’s words rattle out like she’s calling the Kentucky Derby.
“First, we need to get you a boyfriend or lay the groundwork for crushing your mom’s hopes and dreams to dust?—”
“Gee, thanks?—”
“Then we need a plan to make you indispensable at work. A way to make you golden. Teflon. Un-freaking-touchable. Boyfriend first. Have you gotten stuck in the elevator yet to catfish that hot firefighter who ghosted you after three dates?”
“Didn’t work,” I mumble. “He went back to the truck and sent his colleague to help me.”
“Washesingle?”
“Wife and four kids.”
“Dammit. And still no luck on the dating apps?”
“No, and it’s too late now. Christmas is almost here. I’d look unhinged if I asked a guy to come home for the holidays with me on the first date.”
“There must be someone you can find! You’re the best! Hot, clever, kind. What the hell is wrong with city guys?”
I shrug, even though she can’t see me. I’ve been steadily losing confidence over the last couple of years. Maybe thereissomething wrong with me.
“I’ve even stopped telling my dates about my drawing,” I tell her.
“Why?”
I don’t immediately reply. I haven’t told Mia everything about my experiences sharing my art online. I once made the mistake of posting some pieces to an art forum, only to be told my work wasn’t original, that it was just derivative “fan art.”
And then there was the time I went with Colin to an artist’s collective meeting in Brooklyn he was part of. That was even worse because I could see the look in people’s eyes when they judged my work as somehow lesser, just because it wasn’t like what any of them did.
So I settle for, “I don’t want them thinking I’m some elf-loving weirdo.”
Mia grunts her frustration loudly in my ear. “Own it! You’re insanely talented. And anyway, there are people online who love what you do. Surely you can see that?”
A handful of them, sure, but there are so many more haters out there…
I take a fortifying breath. “Colin told me I should direct my talent elsewhere.”
“Where? Staplers and photocopiers?”
“Animals. He really loves dogs, so he thought I should do pet portraits.”
“Petportraits?”
“So I did.”
“Wait … what?”
“Hang on, I’ll show you.” I pull up the picture I drew shortly after Colin ended our relationship, a snarling wolf chasing him. I quickly crop out the left-hand side of the image, and send it to her.
A ping sounds, followed by a raucous screech of laughter.
“Oh Piper, that’s hilarious!”
I smile for the first time in hours and gaze at the uncropped image of Brody as a warrior elf, standing with his arms crossed as he watches his pet send Colin packing.
Should I tell Mia about what happened today?
“Did you send it to him?”
