Smiling, he plucked one off the platter. “Then I definitely can’t refuse.” I watched his lips close around the edge of the sugar cookie, teeth sinking into the frosting.
“Mmm,” he moaned around it. “No one makes a cookie like you.”
“The secret is in the spice,” Mom confided.
“Yes.” Toby nodded. “I’m going to have to stock up before I go back to Boston.”
My stomach soured, and I shoved up off the floor and stomped to the trash can. “Well, don’t let us keep you.”
“I’ll grab a few jars when I get a tree.” He went on as if I hadn’t just told him to get lost.
“A tree?” Mom asked.
“For the clinic,” Toby replied. “Dad hasn’t put one up yet.”
Mom tsked. “Come on. There’s not much else to see in here anyway. I’ll walk you out to the barn so you can get one before they’re all gone.” She paused. “Unless you want to cut one down? Archer, get a saw and go with him.”
“Why me?” I wondered.
She spun to face me. “You aren’t doing anything else,” she said as though I were some kind of freeloader.
Behind her, Toby grinned like the cat who ate the canary.
I scowled. “He can cut down his own tree.”
Planting her fists on her hips, Mom gave me a look. “Archer Hodge, it’s literally your job.”
“Ah, I actually just planned on getting a precut,” Toby said. “Going out into the dark woods with Archer and an ax gives Halloween vibes more than Christmas ones anyway.”
I glowered. “I did get a good jump scare when you came around the corner this morning.”
Mom turned to stare between us. “What on earth is wrong with you two? Even after all these years, you are still mad about whatever falling out you had when you were boys?”
We both went quiet and looked everywhere but at her or each other.
“What happened anyway?” It was the first time she’d asked so directly.
Our eyes snapped together, and even from across the room, I could see panic swirling in his.
“You know what?” Mom went on before I could come up with an answer. “It doesn’t even matter. It’s been so long, and you're both grown adults. It’s time to leave whatever it was in the past.You boys used to be such good friends. Can’t you get back to that?”
My throat was thick. The sandwich I’d eaten lay in my stomach like lead.
“Toby?” Mom pressed.
Couldn’t she see how uncomfortable he was, standing there like a deer in headlights? I admit, I liked seeing him squirm, but only when I was the one making him do it. “Mo?—”
“I can’t be friends with him,” Toby blurted out.
The declaration decimated that lead in my stomach and left me feeling hollow. The rejection stung more than I expected. Obviously, I knew the animosity between us was thicker than thieves, but to hear him say that’s all there was? It hurt. More than it should have after ten long years.
“It just breaks my heart,” Mom said, the regret in her voice heavy.
“I—” Toby started, but Mom held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear it, Tobias. If you two can’t get along, that’s fine. But it’s Christmas, and you’re both adults. You’re going to have to learn to be cordial.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Toby replied.
When I said nothing, Mom gave me the look.
