Her Pretend Christmas Date

by Jackie Lau

  Tom’s heart beat in time to the unfamiliar Christmas song in the background as Bonnie placed a present wrapped in solid red paper on Julie’s lap. There were two boxes, in fact, held together with green ribbon.

  That was his gift for Julie.

  “Ah, very sharp edges,” Bonnie said. “Nice wrapping job. And this is a nice red color.”

  “See, my mom really loves you,” Julie said. “She’s even impressed by your wrapping skills.”

  “Maybe he had it done at the store,” Albert said.

  “No, I did it myself,” Tom said. “I used to wrap presents at the mall during the holiday season for extra money.”

  That job had frayed his nerves. Why did so many people leave their shopping until the last minute? Why couldn’t they be organized and orderly?

  The environment had been far from ideal, but Tom hadn’t minded the actual wrapping.

  “I didn’t know that,” Julie said, then immediately started tearing open the paper.

  Whereas he’d always neatly pull the tape off the paper. It made him cringe to see her ripping his neat wrapping job, even though the paper would be thrown out—unless her parents saved wrapping paper, like his mother used to do.

  “This box is fairly light.” Julie held the first one in the palm of her hand, then opened it up. “I have no idea what this could be...oh!”

  He’d gotten what Bridget had suggested: some hand-dyed variegated yarn. Apparently, Julie enjoyed knitting while watching TV, but she would never get anything like this for herself because it was expensive.

  Indeed, it had been far from cheap. He hadn’t known yarn could cost so much. But it was lovely, he had to admit. Two hanks were vibrant pink and purple; the others were blue and green.

  Her lips curved up as she lovingly stroked the first hank of yarn. It was just yarn to him, but it seemed to make her happy, and that warmed something inside his logical heart.

  “Thank you,” she said at last, then leaned forward. Her lips approached his, and...

  She kissed his cheek, and he breathed out a sigh of disappointment.

  No, relief.

  It was definitely relief.

  “I’ll make you a scarf.” She held the yarn up to his neck. “What do you think?”

  “A pink and purple scarf?” Albert said skeptically.

  “Men can wear pink and purple.” Julie scowled. “Why not? It suits your eyes, Tom.”

  Charlotte snorted. “He has the same eye color as the rest of us.”

  “Wah, be quiet!” Bonnie said. “They are in love. People say silly things when they are in love. It’s normal.”

  “Love is never going to make me say ‘pineapple on pizza is delicious,’ that’s for sure,” Charlotte muttered.

  Tom wanted to protest, too. He would never say silly things while in love. Certainly, he’d never done so before.

  But, for the sake of their act, he said, “I’ll wear it if you knit it for me, but I think it would suit you better, Julie.”

  To his surprise, he truly meant those words. If she made him a scarf, he’d wear it, even if the colors clashed with the rest of his wardrobe.

  It was just because he was into the spirit of Christmas, that was all.

  Julie opened up the other box, and from the copious amount of tissue paper, she withdrew two glass vases in different shapes, one purple and one blue.

  “For when I get you flowers,” he stammered.

  This present had been his idea. He’d figured it was a very girlfriend-appropriate present.

  “These are nice,” Bonnie said. “Much better than what Christopher got you.”

  “Who’s Christopher?” Tom asked without thinking, feeling his hands clench at his sides.

  “A guy I dated a few years ago,” Julie said.

  “He gave her an electric toothbrush,” Bonnie said.

  “A sensible thing to own,” Tom said, “but not a good Christmas gift for Julie.”

  Bonnie beamed at him.

  Julie turned to Tom. “I’m sorry I didn’t put a present for you under the tree. I have something, but I, uh, will give it to you in private.”

  She didn’t get you anything.

  That was okay. He was just her fake boyfriend.

  “I look forward to it,” he said solemnly.

  “Why is it so private?” Bonnie asked. “Is it dirty?”

  “No, I just prefer to do these things when we’re alone,” Julie said.

  “Here.” Albert passed a package to Tom. “You can open this one. From us.”

  You didn’t have to.

  Tom treated the wrapping paper with care, folding it up before opening the box, just to piss Julie off a little.

  The box contained two ties. One was a sober checkered pattern that he approved of. The other was a garish Santa Claus tie.

  He couldn’t help chuckling. Julie must have told her parents to get him ties.

  “These are great,” he said. “Thank you.” He nodded at Bonnie, then Albert.

  “You must wear the Santa Claus tie now,” Bonnie said. “Tomorrow, Christmas will be over and it will be too late. Julie, put it on for him.”

  “Like this?” She wrapped the Santa Claus tie around her own neck.

  “Why are you being so childish?”

  Julie reached toward Tom and unknotted the tie he was currently wearing: a sedate green tie. Green because he was trying to be festive.

  His breath came rapidly as her fingers brushed his throat. When she began knotting the new tie, he stiffened. He was very particular about his ties, and in his opinion, Julie was not tying it properly. But he kept that comment to himself.

  Why was this affecting him so much? He didn’t understand.

  And had her nose always been this cute? What on earth made her nose cute?

  “There,” she said, patting his shoulder. “Perfect.”

  He tucked the tie under his sweater because it looked stupid otherwise, and to his delight, since the top of the tie was black, it was impossible to tell that he was wearing a Santa tie now.

  “No, you’re ruining all the fun,” Bonnie said.

  “I agree.” Julie’s lips twitched. “Santa must be visible. Take off your shirt.”

  He looked at her, wide-eyed, then realized she meant his sweater. She must have said it like that to horrify him.

  Since he was a dutiful boyfriend, he removed his sweater.

  “Very nice,” Julie murmured. “Now all you need is a pink-and-purple scarf to go with it.”

  The idea of such an outfit was an insult to his eyeballs, but he smiled at her and felt a rush of warmth in his chest, which he attributed to holiday spirit.

  * * *

  Julie’s family never had turkey for Christmas lunch. Or roast beef or ham. Instead, they had roast chickens, served with her mother’s lor mai fun.

  “Mmm, my favorite,” Mike said as Mom passed him the sticky rice.

  Mom smiled.

  But if anything, Tom was getting more attention from her parents than Mike was. Julie couldn’t help feeling proud of that, even though it was probably because they’d known Mike since he was a child and had never met Tom before.

  Take that, Charlotte!

  It was silly to feel this way, but she couldn’t help it.

  And unlike usual, Mom hadn’t brought up Julie’s career—or lack thereof.

  Tom really was doing a good job. He was polite, always offering to help, and he’d taken the time to buy her a thoughtful present, one that made it look like he truly knew her. Bridget had likely told him to get the yarn, but still. Julie had been surprised.

  Though she shouldn’t be.

  How much care did Tom put into other things in his life? Like his relationships. Would he prepare special romantic dinners for a girlfriend? Would he be particularly attentive in bed?

  She pinched her lips together. No, she would not think about Tom in bed. She wasn’t attracted to him in that way. He wasn’t bad-looking, but he didn’t really do anything for her.


  Though the Santa tie did suit him, and when he reached for the mashed potatoes, she admired his arm.

  This was weird.

  She was also surprised when he put a dollop of mashed potato next to his sticky rice. She’d have thought that would offend his taste buds.

  Yes, her family had mashed potatoes in addition to sticky rice. Because Julie loved mashed potatoes. It was like having dressing and potatoes with turkey, right?

  After Julie had finished her second helping of mashed potatoes, Dad brought out the tins of cookies. She was full, but she could make room for shortbread.

  “Almost time to go skating?” she asked. Every Christmas afternoon, they went to the ice rink in town, and she’d told Tom to bring skates.

  Mom had a mischievous look on her face, and Julie was instantly filled with dread.

  “Since both of my daughters now have boyfriends,” Mom said, “I thought it would be fun to do a little competition. See who is the best couple.”

  Tom looked at Julie, as if to say, You didn’t warn me about this.

  “What do we have to do?” Mike asked.

  Mom beamed. “It’s a gingerbread house competition.”

  Chapter 5

  Tom had never made a gingerbread house, and he was having performance anxiety.

  “Mom, it’s Christmas,” Charlotte said. “We shouldn’t be doing work.”

  “This is not work, it’s fun.”

  “Then why aren’t you participating?”

  “Because I cooked lunch. Plus, I’m judging. Very important to have an impartial judge.”

  Julie snorted at the word “impartial.”

  “Your mother has been watching Sugar Rush,” Albert said. “This is the problem.”

  “Not a problem,” Bonnie shot back. “It’s very practical because now I have thought of a fun activity for Christmas. We usually go skating, then don’t know what to do. This will pass the time.”

  “I don’t think this kitchen is big enough,” Charlotte said.

  “I know. Unfortunately, we do not have the Sugar Rush kitchen, so you will need to take turns. Each couple will have two and a half hours. We will flip a coin to decide who goes first.” Bonnie pulled a quarter out of her pocket. “Heads, Charlotte goes first. Tails, Julie goes first.”

  It was heads.

  “But first, you all have half an hour, while your father and I clean up the kitchen, to prepare your plans. Here are the baking supplies.” Bonnie pointed to two large plastic containers in the corner of the kitchen. “This is so exciting!”

  “I’m going to need lots of coffee to get me through this competition,” Charlotte muttered.

  Tom had never watched any type of baking competition on TV, though he knew there were a bunch of them. The concept of Sugar Rush was less offensive than Too Hot to Handle, but it wasn’t his thing.

  “We’re going to kick your ass,” Julie said to Charlotte.

  Apparently, his fake girlfriend was really competitive and would probably expect great things from him.

  Well, he’d promised to be her boyfriend for the weekend, so he’d do his best. Had he known about this in advance, however, he would have done better planning. Like, attempted to make a gingerbread house on his own so he was aware of possible pitfalls.

  After studying the contents of the boxes, Julie dragged him upstairs to the bedroom.

  “Okay, we need a plan,” she said.

  He scratched his head. “Um...”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never made a gingerbread house. It’s not like it contains mayo.”

  He just stared at her.

  “I’m kidding,” she said. “I’ve never made one, either, but I always kind of wanted to. At least you can bake.”

  “I think you might be overestimating my skills.”

  But truth be told, he didn’t mind baking. You just had to follow the instructions carefully, make sure you had the right ingredients and equipment. He was good at that sort of thing.

  “Alright, here’s my suggestion,” he said. “I will do research and choose appropriate gingerbread and royal icing recipes, and you will, uh, do the design, okay?”

  “You’re letting me do the fun part?”

  “I figure you’ll be better at it than me, and it sounds like you want to win.”

  She didn’t protest. She grabbed a pencil and paper and started to draw, while he sat on the bed and looked up recipes on his phone.

  Ten minutes later, he’d lost track of how many recipes he’d examined, but he’d figured out which ones he wanted to use. He looked over Julie’s shoulder.

  “How’s it going?” he asked.

  She covered the page with her hand.

  “You know I’ll have to see it eventually,” he said.

  “Fine.” She revealed her drawing.

  Even without color, it was a spectacular gingerbread house for only ten minutes of work. Two stories with a sloped roof and a porch; the roof of the porch looked like it was supported by candy canes. There were also two gingerbread people out front and a wreath on the door. Out back, there were snowmen, and these were labeled “coconut white chocolate truffles.”

  “Is it too much?” Julie asked. “Are you not up for the challenge?”

  She was trying to get under his skin again.

  “Nope,” he said. “No problem whatsoever. Just pass me some more paper, a ruler, and a pair of scissors.”

  “What for?”

  “So I can cut out templates for every piece we’ll need. Then I’ll make a list of everything we have to do and write a schedule.”

  “Are you going to break down the two and a half hours into five-minute intervals?”

  “I was thinking fifteen-minute intervals, but sure, your way works, too.”

  She made a face at him, and it was...kind of adorable, actually.

  He shoved that thought aside. He had a schedule to write.

  And if there was one thing Tom Yeung loved, it was schedules.

  * * *

  “...three, two, one. Go!” Albert said.

  Charlotte and Mike slowly walked from the front hall toward the kitchen.

  “Why are you so slow?” Bonnie hollered. “This is a competition.”

  Tom and Julie, on the other hand, were being kicked out of the house for two and a half hours so they couldn’t spy on their competitors. He was amused by Bonnie’s concerns about spying.

  The two of them headed outside, their skates slung over their shoulders by the laces. They walked in silence until he said, “Is this what the holidays are usually like in your family?”

  “Minus the gingerbread house?” Julie said. “Yeah. What about yours?”

  He shrugged. “We eat. We each give each other a single present. My parents don’t bother with a Christmas tree anymore, just a wreath on the door. We have chocolate.”

  “You make it sound boring.”

  “It’s quieter than your family, yes. Sometimes when I was a child, we’d go to my aunt and uncle’s—before they moved across the country—but that was too much for me. They have five kids, all younger than me, including triplets.”

  Her eyes widened. “I’m trying to imagine you corralling five kids.”

  “They never listened to me, and they never cleaned up. It drove me nuts.”

  She laughed at this. She had a nice laugh, he realized.

  “Anyway, thanks for inviting me,” he said. “So I didn’t have to be alone at Christmas.”

  “That’s not why I invited you.”

  “I know, but it was a side benefit for me.”

  “Like having to sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry I stepped on you. Twice.”

  He shrugged again. “It’s not like it was intentional.”

  Conversations were different between them now. More amicable, even when they argued. There was less tension and—

  Her gloved hand brushed his.

  Scratch that. There was tensi
on, but in a different way.

  He was very aware of her. Aware of her earlobes peeking out from the bottom of her winter hat. The shape of her face, framed by the faux fur edge on her hood.

  “I’m surprised you wear mittens, not gloves,” she said.

  “Mittens are warmer. Your fingers aren’t separated, so they generate more heat. I have gloves for when I need them, but I don’t need them when I’m skating.”

  “Of course you have a scientific reason. Perhaps I should put my mittens on, too.” She switched from black gloves to reindeer mittens.

  “Did you knit them yourself?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “They, uh, clash with your koala hat.”

  He was horrified when he realized he rather liked her koala hat now. It suited her. Though it would be better if her hat matched her mittens.

  She let out a burst of laughter, which pleased him.

  “Are you a good skater?” she asked. “Did you play hockey?”

  “My parents never would have let me play hockey, but they insisted I learn to skate. The first week we were in Canada, my father slipped on a patch of ice and had to go to the hospital because he broke his arm. My parents decided it was only sensible that I learn how to ice skate so I could avoid a similar fate.”

  “Knowing how to skate doesn’t mean you won’t slip on ice.”

  “Very true, but I didn’t complain. I enjoyed skating.”

  They arrived at the rink a few minutes later. There were several people on the ice, and Julie and Tom sat on an empty bench to put on their skates. After lacing up her first skate, Julie took a break to warm her hands in her mittens, but he was less bothered by the cold air.

  At last, they were ready, and he decided to be a good boyfriend and help her onto the ice. Unfortunately, a little kid came whizzing out of nowhere at that exact moment. Tom shifted out of the way just as Julie clutched his hand, and he tumbled to the ice.

  Well, not quite.

  She tumbled to the ice, and he tumbled on top of her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine. No broken arms.”

  He should get up. There were dozens of people around them.

  And yet, he stayed there for a few seconds longer. Even with all the layers of clothing between them, he liked being on top of Julie, his nose nearly touching hers.