“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She set down a mug of coffee next to my plate. “Aren’t you excited to see your sisters?”
“Are you sure this column is a good idea?” persisted Diana. “What if it doesn’t work out?”
“Then it’s no big deal. I’m getting paid for covering Vivian’s space while she’s on maternity leave. If nothing else comes of it, then at least I’ve made a little extra money. But there’s a chance I could get an agent or even get picked up by a publisher.”
“How’s Sophia?” Camille leaned forward. “I haven’t seen her for months.”
“She’s fine. She just got hired for a new photography gig, and she’s excited about it.” I wondered if I could divert their focus to my friends. “And Preston might have a potential girlfriend, too.”
“Oh, Preston.” Hanna sighed happily. “How is that boy? He’s such a good influence on you.”
“He’s good. He’s close to securing a sponsorship for climbing, and once that comes through, he’s hoping to start traveling on the competition circuit.” I licked my fork.
“I wonder how he’ll make out with that,” mused my mother. “Preston is fine around all of us, because he’s been part of our family for so long, but the poor boy can be kind of shy, you know.”
“He’ll be fine. When he’s with climbers, he’s not that shy.” I added a dab of whipped cream to my plate. “And if he’s attracted to a yee, he figures out how to chat her up.”
“Yee.” Diana scowled. “I can’t believe you refer to women that way. Mom, don’t you find it disrespectful?”
My mother laughed. “Nah. Harry knows better than to use demeaning phrases about women. It’s no more upsetting to me than when you girls call men hotties or hunks.”
I closed my eyes and swallowed a sigh. “Why are you all here, anyway?” While my sisters lived at varying distances—from fifteen minutes down the road to an hour south—it was rare that they all gathered at the same time if it wasn’t a holiday.
“We’re here to do the Christmas cookie baking with Mom, doofus.” Camille batted her hand at my arm. “Didn’t you see us talking about it on the group text?”
The dreaded group text—I tried to avoid it as much as possible. “Guess I must have missed it.” I scooped up my last bite of gingerbread and shoveled it down. “Isn’t it too early for Christmas baking? It’s not even Halloween yet.”
“We freeze the cookies,” Diana reminded me. “And the brandy and rum cakes need to soak for two months, so we have to make them early.”
“You can stay and help out,” suggested Hanna. “And tell us all about Faith.”
“Wow, look at the time.” I craned my neck, pretending to see the clock on the microwave. “I’ve got to go to work now.” I slid back my chair and stood up. “See you all later. Um, what time will you be leaving?”
“We’re staying for dinner,” Camille told me. “Mom’s making a roast. What time will you be done work?”
“Harry has plans after work tonight.” My mother met my eyes. “We won’t hold dinner for him.”
I mouthed a silentthank youto her. “It was great seeing everyone. See you on Thanksgiving?”
They all stood up, of course, and I had to make the round of hugs, kisses on my cheek, pats on my back . . . after twenty-three years of being the youngest child and only boy in our family, I was used to this routine. My sisters still saw me as the surprise baby boy who they’d all had a hand in raising, which meant that they were pleasantly surprised whenever I did anything remotely adult, like hold down a job or graduate from college. Still, they all harbored doubts about my ability to exist without their constant supervision and input.
Nothing like a big sister—or three—to put life into perspective.
I fled to the mall as fast as I could.
* * *
Fall in central Florida is a season that doesn’t exist. September, October, and even November roll around, and it’s impossible to tell the difference between those months and say, July and August. We’re all still in shorts and flip flops. And then bam! One day, usually in mid-to-late November, we wake up, and it’s cold enough for jeans and sneakers. That’s basically winter for us.
The only way we can tell the seasons are changing is the decorations at the malls. I have a theory that because we don’t have other signs like falling leaves and snowflakes, we tend to go all out when it comes to holiday decorations. Everyone is in a frenzy of Yuletide cheer, desperate to believe that the heat outside doesn’t matter. We overcompensate.
I’d been working at this mall for four years, so by now, I was used to the tinsel and the evergreen boughs going up super early. All signs of Halloween were wiped away by late October, replaced by bells and lots of ho-ho-hos. Right now, two days before Halloween, was prime time for retailers to put up Christmas decorations.
So, as I walked toward the mall entrance, I didn’t even pay attention to the bucket trucks parked alongside the building, lifting men up high to string oversized garland and bright lights. I was too busy thinking about my date with Faith that night.
I was going to pick her up at her house, and then we were going to dinner at the Hula Hut, a quirky little hole in the wall in Casselberry. Afterward, I planned to suggest a leisurely walk around Crane’s Roost, a path that led around a large lake and had tons of romantic potential. They already had the Christmas lights up there, and they’d have carols playing softly in the background.
It was going to be perfection.
