Page 1 of Home for the Holidays

CHAPTERONE

“Iwant you to marry me.”

Iris Abbott froze in place in her New York City apartment’s kitchen, her hands trapped in the process of securing her long, brown hair into a bun on top of her head. She was also in the middle of chewing the bite of pizza she’d taken moments earlier. “Excuse me?” She swallowed with a loud gulp. “Zachary Nowak, are you out of your goddamn mind? Or are youhigh? Please tell me you’re high.”

Zac, from his seat across their apartment’s small living area, groaned. “Far from it, unfortunately.”

“Then what the hell are you talking about?” She wrapped the silk scrunchie in her hand around her bun as she glared at him across the small kitchen island. He was staring at their small Christmas tree, the lights blinking in time with Burl Ives’s rendition ofA Holly Jolly Christmas. “We are not getting married.”

“Geez, way to let me down gently.”

“Come on, Zac. In case you forgot, you’re gay. And newsflash: so am I.”

A wine-drunk giggle bubbled from him as he sank further into the couch cushions. He ran his hands through his dark blond hair, which was looking longer than normal. “Ever heard of beating around the bush? Because you certainly don’t know how to do it.” He stumbled over his words, a common indication that he was a bottle and a half deeper than she was. It was crystal clear that he was feeling the effects of the 12 percent alcohol content. “And, like, does our sexuality evenmatter?”

“Sweet Jesus,” she said under her breath. The night was taking a turn, that was for sure. How were they even having this conversation? “Considering that I’m not putting your penis in my mouth or my vagina.” She paused. “Or my butt. Hell,ormy hand, I’d say emphatically, yes, sexuality matters.”

“I’m sure I’d be able to satisfy you with my mouth and fingers. It’d be fine.” He hiccupped.

“Do you evenlikevagina?”

He shrugged and hiccupped again. “I guess I could get used to it.”

“And what am I going to do to help you out?”

“I’d find a release somewhere.”

“Wait a second. You’re telling me you’d be able to go out and find a dick, but I can’t go out and find pussy? That seemswildlyunfair.” Distracting him with questions was her only option at this point. He was drunk as a skunk if he thought she’d be cool with only a half-open marriage.Read the room. She was the last person who was going to give up on women and marry a man.

“Fine. We could have an open marriage.”

“Yeah, that sounds like something that would have to happen.” She finally poured wine into her glass and quickly took a big gulp. And then another. She’d spent the last three days being the therapist extraordinaire to her fellow, and much younger, LGBTQIA+ community. When she left her practice two hours ago to start her holiday break, the last thing she thought she would have to deal with on this nice and easy Wednesday night was a pro bono counseling session.

Zac wasn’t letting this go. “C’mon, at least consider how great it’d be.”

“I thought we said we wouldn’t consider getting married to each other until we were much older and even more desperate?”

“Twenty-seven is going to have to be the cutoff for me. I can’t even anymore.”

Fuck, distracting him wasn’t working. He’d repositioned himself and was lying with his feet in the air and his head was hanging off the couch. Thank goodness he’d tabled his glass of wine, or their beige carpet would be in trouble.

“Zac, honey, what’s going on? Why are you wallowing?” Iris whisked over to the couch with two plates of pizza and her glass of wine. “Eat. Now. You need food. You’re acting erratic.” She sat and rearranged her oversized NYU hoodie. Nothing was going to get between her and this pizza she’d been craving since noon yesterday. “Did something happen?”

He lifted his head, a grimace across his beautiful face. “I have to go home for Christmas tomorrow, remember?” His tone held all the defeat he was apparently feeling. “I tried to get out of it, but my stupid mother wouldn’t take my excuses. And since she sent me the plane ticket, I have to go, or I’ll probably be disowned or something equally ridiculous. And to make matters worse, she senttwoplane tickets. Not one. Two! For the person I was supposed to bring home with me.”

“Oh.” Reality was sinking in. “And Josh broke up with you, so you can’t take him anymore.”

“Yep. Thanks for the extra-special glimpse into my failing love life.”

“You brought it up,” she said around a mouthful of pizza.

“Whatever. I’m still trying to get out ofthatdepression funk. I liked him a lot. And he just broke up with me for no reason?”

Iris squinted in mock concentration. “I thought the reason was because you wouldn’t tell your family about him, and he refused to be in the closet for you?”

He glared at her. “What the fuck, Iris? Is it necessary to remind me that you have a memory like a steel trap?”

“Geez, sorry.” She knew he wasn’t truly mad at her. He was angry at himself. She only wished he could finally admit it.

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