Page 44 of The Holiday Fakers
“Did you knit your own socks?” Brody continues.
“I did,” Mom says proudly.
The sock-running championships are one of Hideaway’s more bizarre traditions, inspired by the ones in Finland. The races are held either around the Locke Family Reserve or up in the mountains if there isn’t enough snow. One of the rules is that participants must wear hand-knitted socks, or a pair made right here in Hideaway Harbor.
“You’re not joining?” Hudson asks Mia.
“I’m taking photos forThe Almanac.”
“Then make sure you’re at the finish line to capture my victory,” he says with a grin. He glances at Brody. “You want in?”
Brody shakes his head. “I’ve never tried sock running before, but I’ll be there to support you.” He turns to me. “If that’s okay with you?”
My cheeks heat. “Of course.” It’s weird enough that he’s sitting here after all these years, but deferring to me as if we’re a unit is even stranger.
Ethan’s eyes narrow slightly as he looks at me.
Shit!
I catch Mia’s eye, trying to communicate telepathically, and she claps her hands. “I need to take a family photo now that you’re all here!”
“Doesn’t that wait until Christmas Eve?” Hudson asks.
“This is an informal one. Do you need time to do something with your hair?”
Hudson’s hand moves to his head, and he frowns as she giggles. His hair is short, with never a strand out of place. If he hadn’t become a firefighter, he definitely would have joined the military.
“I think a photo is a lovely idea,” Mom says, then dabs at her mouth with a napkin. “Let’s clear the table first, and I’ll put a pot of coffee on.”
Brody leaps to his feet. “Please, let me help clean up.”
Mom hesitates. She doesn’t like giving up control around the house, but she’s learning. “Okay, then. But I’ll make the coffee.”
“We can do it,” Ethan says. “Why don’t you and Dad take Martha?”
“Yes, Grandma!” Martha says. “We need to put our feet up.”
“And maybe read a story, sweetheart?” Mom suggests.
Martha fist pumps, then lifts her arms up to Ethan, who lifts her off the booster seat and sets her on the floor. She takes Mom’s hand and leads her toward the family room.
Brody and I go to the kitchen and start loading the dishwasher. He hasn’t been in this house for twelve years, but he seems to remember exactly how Mom likes it stacked and where things go.
“Some things never change, huh?” Ethan says to him as he loads a serving dish in the top rack.
The words are mild, but with my older brother, each syllable is measured. He’s never been one to waste words or run his mouth, so Brody knows, as do I, how this seemingly innocuous sentence is loaded with meaning.
Brody stills, then nods.
“You should come around to mine one night,” Ethan continues. “Watch the game.”
“Sure,” Brody replies, his voice neutral. “I’d like that.”
“Ooh, Ethan!” Harper says, grabbing his arm. “I forgot. I have a new creation to show you. I think it’s the perfect men’s cologne!”
She pulls him out of the kitchen, and Brody’s gaze follows them, a frown on his face.
Hudson gives us a sympathetic smile. “He’ll come around. It’s just been a shock, that’s all.”
