“Wewill figure out a plan.” His jaw clenches, his mouth pulling tight, before his gaze softens in exasperation. “You keep too much to yourself, Roar. If we’re friends, we’re in this together. And we don’t need an exit plan just yet. Let’s focus on having a good Christmas first.”
If we’re friends.There’s a lot riding on thatif.
The doorknob rattles, and he steps out of the way asJules explodes into the room. The youngest sister is also the tallest, and she has to lean over to hug me.
“Mini,” she says happily. “You’re finally awake.”
“Where the heck did you come from, Baby?”
“I drove up last night.”
“Afterworkinglast night,” Cassie adds, barging in. “She got in at three in the morning!”
“Jules,” I admonish.
She rolls her eyes. “I got here safely, didn’t I? Besides, Cassie is in crisis.”
Garrett clears his throat. “I’ll go help your dad with breakfast.”
Once he’s gone, I cup my little sister’s pretty, concerned face. “Cassie’s doing okay.”
“Tell that to Mom,” our middle sister mutters. “She was holding herself back last night. This morning she’s more teary than I am.”
“Seriously, Mini, you need to come downstairs.” Jules pulls Cassie into our hug. “Mom doesn’t understand that once a man dumps a Minelli girl, he’s dead to us.”
I wince. “Um?—”
“And this one is better off without that loser.”
“He’s not a loser,” Cassie protests.
That remains to be seen, but given my own circumstances, I have to give Nate the benefit of the doubt here. I focus on Jules. “What did she tell you?”
“Who, Mom?”
“No, Cassie!”
“I’m right here,” our sister says.
“I know, Middle, but you both plowed into here like there was something urgent that I needed to sort out, so I’m guessing something new has spilled out since last night?” I look back and forth between them. “Yes? No?”
Jules shakes her head. “She didn’t give me anything. All I know from Mom is that Cassie showed up here crying and Nate is MIA.”
I rub my temple. “Cassie, you don’t know where he went? Did you try texting him?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I blocked his number.”
“Great. Real mature.”
“Girls!” Mom interrupts us from downstairs. “Breakfast!”
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.” I take both of their hands. “For the morning, nothing matters other than selling Christmas trees. And then as soon as we sell the last tree, we’re hopping on the wagon into town, and we’re going to buy the most obscene Christmas treats for tonight at the market. We aren’t going to talk about relationships, or men,all day. Got it? If Mom tries to bring it up, just saythat doesn’t pass the Bechdel Testand change the subject back to trees.”
“She’s not going to know what that is,” Cassie says.
“Idon’t know what that is,” Jules adds.
“What?”Cassie and I say at the same time.
