by Kate Benson
When I told her I’d had my fill, that I couldn’t keep going on like this, no part of her reaction made me think she was dealing with heartbreak. If anything, ever since our talk, I’ve felt like I’ve been annoying her to no end.
Calling it quits now makes things a little easier, a little less messy after things are all said and done. However, it didn’t take the sting out of another relationship coming to an end. Especially right before the holidays. I’m not an overly sentimental guy, but I’ve always had a soft spot for Christmas. Up until about a month and a half ago, I had a soft spot for the girl sitting in my passengers’ seat, too.
Some things just aren’t meant to be, though.
When it all started, I thought we had a real shot, but after the new wore off and we started to see each other a little more clearly. She’s a nice enough girl. She’s smart, funny and by all accounts, gorgeous. She’s someone I know is going to make some lucky guy incredibly happy one day.
I just wasn’t meant to be that guy.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, the heavy silence resuming between us making me miserable. When she finally speaks again, a part of me wishes I’d taken more appreciation in the quiet drive we’d been enjoying before I’d opened my big mouth.
“It’s not a big deal. What’s that thing you always say? Fake it til you make it?” she asks, her suddenly cavalier attitude toward the whole thing making me shake my head again. “It’s too late to bail now. My family is already expecting us and we’re nearly there.”
“You don’t think it’s going to be awkward as hell spending Christmas with your giant family in one tiny cabin for nearly two weeks?”
“Well, probably, but what the hell else are we supposed to do?” she asks, her agitation clear in her features.
“Would it be easier if I got a hotel? We could just… I don’t know. Why don’t we just tell them the truth? That it didn’t work out?”
“And break my mother’s heart?” she asks, her features contorting in disgust like I’d asked her to kill a puppy.
“How would it break her heart, Kim?” I ask. “I’ve never even met the woman. She can’t be that attached to me!”
“She has this whole thing planned, Dex. She already bought a turkey and a ham!”
“So, you think lying to her is better?”
“Well, I’m not telling her she planned all this for nothing!”
“What about your sisters and brothers-in-law?”
“What about them? They have nothing to do with any of this.”
“Well, obviously, Kim,” I sigh, my annoyance staining my voice despite my best efforts. “I meant that aren’t there like eight other people coming? Is she even going to notice something’s off if she’s busy dealing with all of them?”
“Yes, she’ll notice, Dex! She’s my mother! And she bought a tur-”
“A turkey, Kim. Yes, I get it,” I cut her off. Jesus Christ, this turkey is going to be the death of me. “Why can’t your family eat all this food? I mean, for Christ’s sake, I’m one person. How much turkey did she think I was going to eat?” I ask, throwing my hands up in frustration again.
What I’d hoped would be a mature conversation when I started has now turned into a debate about a fucking turkey. I’d love to say this is the stupidest argument we’ve shared, but sadly, this is typical for me and Kim. Not to mention a wonderful example of why I’ve been ready to walk away for weeks now.
“That isn’t the point!”
“Well, then what the hell is? I mean, why do we have to eat a whole fucking turkey because our relationship didn’t work out like we thought it would?”
She stares back at me like I’ve grown two extra heads.
“Who hurt you?” she asks, making my eyes narrow slightly.
“What? What the hell are you talking about?”
“I mean like what the hell happened to you?” she asks, her voice leaving her in a dramatic hiss before she shakes her head and releases a long sigh. “You know, for someone who’s all about helping the community, you sure are wrapped up in yourself.”
Oh, for the love of God…
“We say nothing, Dex. We both know this is ending, we’re both fine with it,” she continues, her voice lower than it had been a few moments before. “Let’s just get through Christmas and when we get back home, we’ll go our separate ways.” Her attention returns to her fingernails once more, nervously dissecting her perfect manicure for the fourth time in the last hour before she clears her throat and meets my eyes once more. “I don’t want to be the reason you’re unhappy and I know you don’t want to do that to me, either,” she admits, her eyes softening. “Please just don’t say anything, okay? I’ll do everything I promised, I’ll keep my word on the hospital thing, whatever you want. Just please promise me you won’t mention a word of this to anyone until we get back to Allentown. You know how my family can be.”
The truth is that I really don’t. I know what she told me about her childhood, but then I also know how she can be and she’s dramatic and demanding. Honestly, she could either be completely full of shit or the product of a house full of crazy people. However, I consider her words and with a small smile of understanding, I give her a nod of agreeance, swallowing over the lump that’s now lodged in my throat. I hadn’t met her parents, but she’d told me all about them. How they expected their girls to behave and how they should succeed in everything.
“Okay,” I sigh. “I can stick it out another week if you can. I promise I won’t say anything to anyone.”
She returns my subtle nod with one of her own, for the first time in two weeks, her hand reaching across the seat to find mine and give it a gentle squeeze.
“Thank you, Dex.”
“You’re welcome,” I reply quietly, steeling myself for the most awkward week of my life.
I’m not really sure how things are going to go down, but I do know one thing: I’ll die of starvation before I eat a bite of that godforsaken turkey.
Chapter Three
Abby
Once we get our things put away, we take a few minutes to re-explore the cabin that we’d spent so much time at over the past few years.
While there’s a few small surprises, things that have been added over the months that have passed since we last visited, there’s something quite comforting about the things that haven’t changed a bit. I’m in my bedroom, my fingertips tracing over the small rift in the windowsill that was put there three Christmases ago, when I hear Marissa calling to me from across the hall.
“Are you ready to get psycho?” she asks, her playful demeanor making me smirk to myself as I blink away the memory holding me. “It’s coming on in ten minutes. Let’s do this thing!”
“I’ll be right there,” I promise, moving toward the pajamas I’d laid onto the bed when I was unpacking.
I toss away my towel and slip them on quickly, silently content with the way the heavy cotton feels over my body. There’s something unrelentingly comforting about a good set of ugly pajamas. I’d never wear these if I had a boyfriend, wouldn’t be caught dead in them really with anyone outside of my sister. However, as I glance down at the funky red and black plaid flannel that covers my legs and nestles in around my arms, I can’t help but feel ridiculously snug.
I bound down the stairs, the screeching coming from the television making me smile wide to myself as I inhale the aroma of freshly popped kernels coming from below.
“You’re totally missing the opening credits, Abs!”
“I’m coming! I’m coming!” I reassure her, falling into the couch cushions beside her and tugging my half of the blanket. “This is the best movie ever.”
“I know,” she agrees, setting the bowl of popcorn between us and blowing me a buttery kiss when I thank her. “How many times do you think we’ve watched this movie?”
“I don’t know,” I shrug, popping a few bites into my mouth before I lean up and reach for my cocoa, blowing it quickly. “Probably at least fifty,” I admit. �
��It never gets old, though. Don’t you agree?”
“I absolutely agree,” she sighs, the perfect sigh of someone who totally gets you. “How old was Janet Leigh when she did this again?”
“Thirty-two? Thirty-three?” I try to recall, my mind roaming through the countless bits of useless trivia stored in the back of my brain. “Something like that.”
“She’s so timeless,” she shakes her head with envy. “I mean, even when she’s getting hacked in the shower, I can’t help but think about how flawless her skin is, y’know?”
“Yeah, she was really beautiful.”
“God, I really hope we still look that good when we’re in our thirties,” she snorts, both of us still mesmerized by the screen in front of us. “What do you think she used for moisturizer?”
“Who knows? They used all kinds of weird crap back then,” I reply. “She probably doused herself in vegetable oil or rhubarb marmalade or something.”
“What?” she cackles, her laughter making me laugh right along with her. “No, she didn’t!”
“How do you know?” I argue. “You just said you didn’t know what she used.”
“Yeah, but no one would douse themselves in things like that!”
“Well, not now, they wouldn’t,” I agree. “Which is probably why no one looks as good as Janet Leigh when they’re in the shower screaming for dear life,” I smirk, sticking my tongue out at her in victory. “See? I know stuff.”
“Who screams in the shower?”
“I always scream in the shower,” I joke, rubbing my belly with a smirk.
“Oh, whatever. We both know you just pulled that out of your ass,” she shakes her head, still giggling to herself. “You don’t know anything about anyone’s skincare routine.”
We spend the rest of the movie doing exactly this, talking over the bulk of the scenes until we’ve reached our favorites, quieting down with just enough reverence to let the opening night of our abnormal Christmas tradition sink in. By the time the ending credits have rolled through and the darkness of the den is surrounding us, Marissa is fast asleep, her head resting against my shoulder.
I glance down to wake her, stopping quickly as I begin to smile wide to myself as I take in the piece of popcorn still stuck to her chin. I snap a quick pic with my phone and chuckle deviously before gently moving so she can stretch out over the cushions. I make quick work of cleaning up our small mess, silently promising to wash our dishes in the morning before I do the sisterly thing and cover Marissa more completely with the blanket and head upstairs.
I’m so tired from the day, from the entire semester if I’m honest, that I barely remember my head falling against the cushy pillow on my bed.
My final thought as I drift off to a dreamless sleep is how grateful I am to spend this time with my sister and how amazing it will be to finally have ten magical days of peace and quiet.
***
“What in the holy living hell is going on?” I ground out, sitting straight up in my bed, my sleep mask resting crooked over my eyes making my vision awkward. The sound of thumping bass coming from downstairs vibrates my skull, making me cringe internally before I swipe the mask off and feel the pads of my feet touching the hardwood floors below. I love music as much as the next person, but when my eyes fall on the clock reading seven-fifteen, I’m quite convinced I don’t love anything.
“Marissa!” I call out, my feet pulling me toward the staircase that overlooks the den, the sight of her flailing in the middle of the living room doing nothing to ease my annoyance. “Sweet Lord, what the hell are you doing?”
“Good morning, sunshine!” she replies, her voice wispy with exertion as she turns in time with the girl on the screen in front of her. “I’m working out,” she huffs, her arms raising up to the beat of the Bel Biv Devoe. “It’s a nineties one,” she continues. “It’s so super fun. Come on! You should come and do this with me. It’s a great way to get your blood flowing first thing in the morning.”
“Yeah? Well so is sex and cutting back on alcohol, but you don’t see me doing either of those, do you?”
The song morphs quickly into another, her excitement doing nothing to inspire me despite her maniacal grin. As she begins singing along, I can’t stop the low groan of exhaustion and annoyance slipping from my lips as I move slowly down the stairs, moving straight toward the kitchen.
“I need a lot more coffee and a lot less of whatever you’re doing,” I grumble, shuffling toward the pot, pushing out another long sigh when I find it empty. “Marissa, where did you put the coffee?”
“We only had enough for half a pot!” she calls out her reply, pulling my eyes to hers. “We’re going to have to run to the store later so we can get more!”
“You drank all of it?”
“Well, yeah,” she answers with a snort. “How else do you think I’d have the energy for this shit?”
“Oh, my God,” I groan, moving back toward my bedroom. “This is the worst thing that could have ever happened!”
“I thought you were going to work out with me?” she starts, her eyes following me toward the stairs. “Where are you going?”
“Oh, hell no,” I mumble, throwing on real clothes and grabbing my bag before I drag myself toward the front door. “I need coffee. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Grab me one, too, will ya?” she asks, chuckling at my deadpanned expression as I glance back at her. “Come on, grinchy. I’ve got two more of these to do before breakfast. I need some go juice.”
“You’re doing two more of these?” I ask, gesturing toward the television.
“Yeah. I’ve been doing them every morning,” she sings. “I feel absolutely fantastic!”
I glance at the television, then back at her before I pull my sunglasses over my eyes and shake my head.
“Scratch what I said before. I’ll be back later on tonight.”
“Well, aren’t you just a big, fat party pooper?” she teases, sticking her tongue out at me before resuming her ridiculousness. “I love you. Don’t talk to strangers unless they’re devastatingly handsome and single.”
Chapter Four
Dex
The night before had been a long one and much more awkward than most any other I’d spent before.
In my attempt to keep my promise to Kim that I’d pretend everything between us was as good as ever, the bulk of our evening had been spent on the couch with her family.
The whole family.
Every. Single. One. Of. Them.
While they’re all nice enough, pleasant as can be expected after hours of traveling, my heart simply wasn’t there. I can’t say I’m surprised. I’d made my decision same as Kim that things between us are through. However, I can’t say that there wasn’t a little piece of me that hoped we wouldn’t be at each other’s throats, even if only to avoid an awkward ten days in the mountains.
That hasn’t happened though and now, I know it absolutely won’t. Not only did the experience bring more clarity to the situation than I thought it would, we spent the last forty-five minutes of the night arguing in hushed whispers in the guest room over something as trivial as sleeping arrangements.
This morning when I woke, my body stiff from sleeping on the floor in the makeshift pallet I’d made so she could have the bed, I couldn’t get out of the house and away from her fast enough.
There aren’t many places around Cringle Cove that I could go to seek sanctuary at six o’clock in the morning. Not many places that aren’t freezing, I should say. So when I stumble across a quaint coffee shop not too far from the center of town, to say I’m over the moon is an understatement.
“Kim hates coffee. She’ll never come in here,” I say quietly to myself as I pull the door open, the smell of coffee and freedom greeting me finally putting a victorious, albeit slightly evil, smile on my tired lips. That thought alone is enough to have me stepping further inside my temporary asylum, shifting my laptop bag more comfortably onto my shoulder. “Yeah, this ought to do
just fine.”
Abby
I step inside the familiar walls of Myles Coffee Shop, warmth and the aroma of my most beloved bean engulfing me and giving my tired little black heart a gentle squeeze of reassurance. Everything is going to be alright now, I think to myself as I inhale the familiar fragrance. My caffeine loving heart begins pitter pattering to the song of my people as I anticipate what’s to come the instant I make my way through this long ass line. You’re going to get through the morning, my precious. You’re safe in the house of java.
Almost instantly, my annoyance with Marissa’s upbeat morning routine is gone.
As I suspected, the line is hectic with early morning shoppers, but thankfully, seems to be moving quickly. My mind is wandering somewhere between thoughts of what I’ll order and what the week ahead will bring when movement from my left tugs at me.
“Hey, Shaine!” I smile, happy to see one familiar face among the crowd of my fellow caffeine-crazed patrons.
“Hey,” she smiles back as she looks up at me from her place at a nearby table.
“How are you?” I ask, noticing she’s moving a little uneasily. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I busted my ass on the ice outside,” she admits, rolling her eyes in annoyance before she begins to smirk. “I hate the snow.”
“You’re not alone,” I reply honestly with a chuckle. “Where’s your sister?”
“Up there,” she gestures toward the front of the line and I follow her gaze, waving at Willow when she glances back toward us.
The line begins to move slowly, and I find myself stepping away from Shaine to keep up.
“It was good to see you,” I wave at her again, still smiling. “I hope your ass feels better soon.”
“Thanks,” she laughs dryly. “Good to see you, too. I’ll talk to you later.”
My feet move me forward mechanically as I continue to suck in the promising aroma of coffee, the promise of two more hours of Marissa dancing around our living room doing little to energize me. I know I should be more like her, more eager to work out and stay motivated. In fact, a part of me is exactly like that, but not this week. No, this week, I’m on vacation and for me, that means not moving any more than necessary.