“You should have been here already,” I answer. The event isn’t until tonight, but Holly usually helps me set up. She stars in dozens of the company’s movies, but she’s never let it go to her head. She’s still as down-to-earth and kind as ever.
“I’ll be there soon. What’s going on anyway?” Her tone is too casual. There’s definitely something happening.
I glance around the atrium with the fifteen-foot-tall Christmas tree and dozens of volunteers rushing about to perfect everything before tonight’s event. Too many people to overhear this.
I turn down one of the hospital’s long corridors, ducking underneath some tape indicating construction work.
I make a mental note to get one of the volunteers to create a better barricade. We can’t have sugar-hyped kids wandering into the construction area.
“What is it?” She asks when the silence lengthens between us. We’ve always been able to talk to each other about anything.
I really don’t want her to do this. It would be different if she were in love with Bobby. Sure, they light up the screen together. But behind the cameras, there’s no spark. Not like I have with Ford. “Bobby is going to be here tonight.”
“I figured he would be. Why does that matter?” She sounds completely unruffled by the thought of seeing her ex-boyfriend.
“Look, I’m not supposed to tell you this. He’s going to propose,” I admit, my voice growing quieter even as I wander further into the corridor. There’s no construction happening today, which means I’m completely alone.
“He isn’t!” She gasps.
“Well, mom is all for it.” I don’t tell her that I already called my mom to ask if she knew about it. Of course, she did. Mom has carefully directed Holly’s life since she was a baby, and Holly has been nothing but the dutiful daughter. Sometimes, I worry the smile on her face is frozen there, a permanent symbol of her self-sacrificing nature.
“And she’s OK with me just being ambushed in public?” Holly demands. For a moment, I think she might finally be getting angry. Maybe it would be good for her to throw a fit and reclaim her independence.
“I thought you should know,” I answer, wondering if I’ll ever be lucky enough to have a man propose to me. Would it be Ford? Could he ever see me as more than his assistant? Could he grab me up and kiss me with that big, bushy beard of his?
“Thanks for the heads-up,” she says, ever gracious. Just once, I want to see my big sister lose her cool. I want her to yell and scream and tell the world that it’s not her job to be the one who sacrifices everything she wants and needs for others.
“Are you still coming? I can tell everyone you’re sick,” I offer, knowing she won’t take the exit I’m giving her. When my dad died, she became the family’s rock. Everyone knows the rock doesn’t shake.
“I’ll be there,” she says, but her voice isn’t right. It’s more than that she’s just dreading tonight. Something is bothering her.
We say our goodbyes, and I stare at my phone in the darkened corridor for several long minutes. Finally, I open an app that lets us track each other’s location.
She’s not far from here. Maybe a drive of a couple of hours. There’s no exact address listed, so I copy the coordinates into my notes app without bothering to look them up.
By the time the party starts, I know my sister isn’t coming. The sigh of relief I breathe is huge. I don’t want her here. Not if it means signing up for a lifetime of misery by marrying Bobby.
My mom doesn’t see it quite that way though. She tries to play it cool, but I can tell she’s fretting.
“Call her again,” she hisses at me when she thinks no one is looking at the two of us.
“Her phone must be off,” I answer and do my best to sound annoyed. Inside, I’m turning cartwheels. My sister finally did something for herself. She’s taking a stand. “That’s Marsha. I need to go say hi to her.”
Before my mom can stop me, I hurry across the atrium to greet the organizer of tonight’s event.
She’s a blonde woman in her fifties with a warm smile who seems perpetually happy. Or maybe that’s just because after a nasty divorce, she caught the eye of a billionaire in his late twenties. The two of them are madly in love with each other.
As it is, she’s standing by the gift table while his hands roam across her hip. He pauses to whisper something in her ear, and she giggles like a schoolgirl.
She straightens when she sees me. I didn’t think it was possible, but her smile grows even brighter. She opens her arms wide. “Joy, I’m so happy to see you.”
I step into her embrace, letting her squeeze me extra tight. She’s one of the few people at these Christmas events that’s genuine. She’s not here to be seen or to rub elbows with the elite. She’s here to give back to the sick children who need a reminder that there’s still magic in the world.
She steps back and glances at Charles. “You’ve met my new husband, haven’t you?”
I smile politely because I met Charles last year. I think she gets a thrill out of getting to say her husband. She loves being a newlywed again.
Charles nods to me and holds out a hand. He’s never been anything other than poised and polished. “You put together a stunning event yet again, Miss Jolly Joy.”
