“I don’t need to. The answer is still no.”
“Fine,” he says, exasperated. “Mom wants to have Christmas Eve dinner at your cabin this year.”
I close my eyes. Count to three. Try to remember that homicide is frowned upon even during the holidays. “Absolutely not.”
“The kitchen’s bigger.”
“No.”
“You’ve got the farmhouse table.”
“No.”
“And the good oven.”
“That oven is barely good for frozen pizza.”
“But it’s better than ours,” he fires back. “And the house is big enough for everyone. We’re maxed out over here.”
“Not my problem.”
Bradley makes a sympathetic face that never means anything good.
“Cyrus. It’s Mom’s first Christmas without Nana. She wants the whole family together. She cried this morning.”
He only plays the Mom Card when he’s desperate.
I rub the bridge of my nose. “I told you, I’m working all week.”
“You close early Christmas Eve.”
“That doesn’t mean I want twenty people at my place eating ham off my dishes.”
His grin sharpens. “Funny thing. Mom already told the group chat you said yes.”
“Bradley—”
“And everyone reacted with a lot of heart emojis. I’m just saying, you’d look like a monster if you back out.”
He has the decency to wince when I glare at him. “Look. I’ll help. We’ll all help. You don’t have to do anything except unlock the door and pretend you’re happy to see everyone.”
“Great,” I mutter. “My favorite hobby.”
He claps me on the back so hard my teeth click. “Knew I could count on you.”
By the time I get home that afternoon, I’ve convinced myself the news could be worse. Maybe the roads will close. Maybe the power will go out. Maybe the entire extended family will suddenly decide to try something radical, like staying in their own homes.
I park, grab bags of groceries from the truck, and try to ignore the tight feeling in my shoulders that started somewhere around aisle four at the store.
It only gets worse when I push open the front door and hear footsteps inside.
Please don’t be who I think it is.
From behind the half-decorated tree—branches sagging from the weight of three lonely ornaments—Dahlia appears holding a roll of foil and a look that says she is about to take over this cabin the way a general takes over a battlefield.
Of course.
She freezes when she sees me. “Hi.”
