Page 87 of The Holiday Fakers
“Hidie ho, hidie ho,” Marv replies. “Off to the library we go!”
Erica laughs, then hustles us out the door and down the street.
The sky is a crisp, pale blue, and the sun glints so brightly off the snow I squint. Piper and I fall into step behind everyone, but she doesn’t take my hand, keeping hers in the pockets of her coat.
“Piper, I?—”
“Looking forward to story time?” she asks, cutting me off.
“I … uh … Look, can we talk about what happened last night?”
Her gaze is fixed straight ahead, as if I’m not even there, another tense smile on her face.
“No need,” she says brightly.
“About our kiss.”
She stumbles but quickly recovers, then shoots me a quick look. Her lips curve upward, but her eyes don’t look happy.
“I think we did what we needed to do. And … that’s enough.”
I don’t know what to say next. I may be passable at acting out lines other people have written, but I sure as shit can’t seem to write my own.
Faint heart never won fair lady.
I shake my head at my chickenshit self as we walk down Main Street towards the library, past decorated shops, and smiling people enjoying the morning sunshine.
I nod or wave automatically as people call out to me, my mind fully focused on finding the right words to say to Piper when I get the chance. I still don’t know whether to tell her the truth or not. I want what’s best for her, and I’m not sure that’s me.
The library is an old stone building, full of warmth, polished wood, and the smell of old books and freshly made hot chocolate. I haven’t been here since I was a kid.
I remember my mom letting me loose in here for hours, then sitting on the couch at home with popcorn and a beer while I acted out the stories. I spent so many years angry that she didn’t take better care of herself, but therapy has helped me see her as a loving mom who did the best she could. Plenty of people eat badly and live long lives. She didn’t know about her underlying heart condition, and it’s not her fault she died. Nor is it mine for not being able to stop it.
“You okay?” Piper asks, snapping me back into the present moment.
“I was thinking about my mom,” I answer truthfully.
Piper’s gaze is full of understanding and compassion.
“The library was great because it was free,” I continue. “So I could read as much as I liked without feeling guilty.”
“Ethan was always telling us at dinner about books you’d recommended to him.”
I smile. “Usually ones about boys going off into the wilderness and having adventures, fighting giant crocodiles or going back in time to see the dinosaurs.”
“Yeah.” She smiles back at me, and my heart lifts a little. “Do you remember when you both decided the stairs at home were Mount Everest?”
“And we had to use crampons, ropes, and ice axes in order to scale it?”
“I thought Dad would have a fit at the damage to the wood, but do you remember what he said?”
I nod, still amazed at his calm reaction. “He said it was better we were doing something fun than sitting around playing video games.”
“I was convinced you’d both be grounded forever.”
“He never even told my mom about it.”
“Really?”
