Page 73 of The Holiday Fakers
“Daddy,” Martha says with authority, “you’re being mean to Uncle Brody.”
Ethan’s expression cracks slightly, revealing the man beneath his gruff exterior, though it seems he’s still overwhelmed with unspoken thoughts and feelings.
“And what happens when you get this job?” he continues to Brody. “What then? You’ll just leave? Again?”
And there it is, the hurt beneath his harsh words. His best friend walked out of his life, and then his soulmate died.
Martha slaps both her little hands on the top of Ethan’s head. “Daddy! Time out!”
“Yeah, pumpkin,” he says. “You’re right.” His gaze passes over us, but misses Brody. “We’ll see everyone tomorrow.”
Without waiting for a reply, he strides away, Martha twisting around to look over her shoulder and wave goodbye.
We’re on Main Street, surrounded by people, but a heavy silence has fallen over us.
“I’m sorry,” Brody says hoarsely.
Dad rubs his arm, his brow furrowed. “No, son. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
Mom is up on her tiptoes, still waving at Martha, her smile big but strained.
“Do you really think Brody can help you keep your job?” Harper asks me.
I shrug, feeling the weight of uncertainty press down on me. I haven’t thought about my job today, but now reality crashes through me. Come January, Brody and I will have gone our separate ways. I’ll be sitting across a desk from my ex, and his new girlfriend will be the face I see each time I enter and leave the building.
I let go of Brody’s arm and shove my hands in the pockets of my coat. Ethan’s right. There’s no way he would advertise a printer. Brody’s trying to rehabilitate his image, not ruin it.
I just can’t believe I was so stupid to think that I was going to get anything out of this deal apart from the reanimation of my teenage crush.
Mom finally loses sight of Martha and faces Brody. “He’ll come around, honey.”
Brody nods, but a muscle in his jaw ticks.
“I’m off to find some more glögg,” Harper says. “Who wants the boozy one?”
Everyone raises a hand, except for Brody.
“I’ll help,” Mom says, before weaving through the crowds with Harper to the nearest stand.
“Do you think the crowds are as big as last year, Mr L?” Mia asks.
Dad’s face lights up. “Even bigger!”
I’m grateful for Mia steering the conversation onto neutral ground, keeping Dad talking and asking the kinds of questions Brody might want to know the answers to. It means I can keep quiet and let my mind ruminate in peace on what a fool I’m being.
Mom and Harper return with the hot glögg, and Harper whispers in my ear that mine has extra Aquavit in it.
I rarely drink, and now that I know Brody doesn’t, I’m hyper-aware of every sip of alcohol I take. However, when the Aquavit hits my bloodstream, it smooths away the rough edges of my mood.
But then it hits me—the memory of saying what a “great idea” it would be for us to kiss.
What the hell was I thinking? Clearly I wasn’t, just wallowing in sex hormones and allowing them to run the show. Brody’s a fantastic actor, and I’m … not. Just someone trying not to lose herself in the role of “fake girlfriend” like any other obsessed fan.
I squeeze my thighs together as I remember him kissing the top of my head, turning on nerve endings I didn’t even know I had. Did hewantto do it?
He’s an actor.
The thought tastes bitter in my mouth, and I swallow it down.
