Page 153 of The Holiday Fakers
“Then what?”
“I want to see you every day. I want to share my life with you!”
“We can still talk! Video call!”
“It’s not the same.” He sounds deflated now, which isn’t how I want him to be after being offered the job most actors would kill for.
“I know, but it’ll be worth it. I promise. If I get my dream job, then I want you to have yours.”
“I don’t know.”
“For me?”
“That’s not fair.”
“You said you’d do anything for me. So do this. Take it.”
He pauses, then nods.
I let out a breath of relief. “Good. Now let’s go back and tell Marv, then get to the hall so we can help set up for the dance tonight. We should be celebrating!”
He doesn’t reply, so I drag him out of the room and back to the kitchen. My heart may be breaking, but I have to hold it together for the both of us. I’m not going to be the reason he turns this opportunity down.
“Aunt Piper,”Martha says, handing me two small branches for the evergreen garlands she’s helping me make.
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Are you and Uncle Brody going to get married?”
I shoot a quick glance at Brody. He’s on the other side of the main room in the town hall’s community building, helping my dad and brothers fix an enormous tree into place.
I don’t know how to reply to her. It’s what I’ve always wanted, but now our future seems so unsure. I can already feel the distance between us, like a yawning chasm.
“Because you should,” Martha continues.
“Why’s that?”
She gives me a look like I should already know the answer. “Because that’s what grown-ups do when they fall in love. And I want to be a flower girl.”
I smile at her simple logic. “Sometimes life isn’t straightforward. Things get in the way.”
“Then you should move them. Tidy them up.”
If only…
I rub fir needles between my fingers, then lift them to my nose. The woodsy oils smell like Christmas and home, a scent that always makes me happy. However, now it’s tinged with sadness. I’ll always associate it with Brody, and the perfect few days when our stars finally aligned. But now our worlds are drifting apart, and my heart is trying to protect itself by withdrawing.
Martha copies me, then sniffs her hands. “It smells like the candle stall at the Christmas market where I helped Daddy buy presents for you.”
“Isn’t that meant to be a surprise?”
Her big blue eyes widen comically. “Oops!”
I laugh. “I promise I won’t tell.”
“Thank you. Are you going to Australia with Uncle Brody?”
“Australia?”
