“Hey, Miss Librarian, isn’t it time for the year-end book review?”
Ah yes, our Christmas tradition. All eyes are on me, and I turn to the small human at my side. “Okay, Tristan, let’s hear it. What’s the best book you read this year?”
“Dragon Slayers’ Academy!” He mimes swinging a sword and narrowly avoids knocking over his milk.
“Oooh, that’s a good one.” I reach out to steady the glass. “Ginny, same question.”
As it usually does, this leads to an all-table conversation about the books we read and loved throughout the year, along with favorites from years past. I’m delighted when Gabe the library-avoider admits to weeping like a baby atWhere the Red Fern Growswhen he was Ginny’s age.
I pat his hand. “Don’t worry. It happens to the best of us.”
That’s when it occurs to me that he hasn’t tried to behave badly once tonight. Does he want to be done with our ruse too? I tilt my head to look at him and he meets my gaze, his eyes steady and warm.
My heart pulses, and I only look away because my mom summons me to help clear some of the dishes so she can bring in dessert. By the time we’re back from the kitchen, the conversation’s shifted to what the kids are hoping to find under the Christmas tree tomorrow, and before I know it, we’re forking up the last of the pecan pie and pushing away from the table with a collective groan.
“This was an amazing meal,” Gabe says. Like everybody else, he looks a little glassy-eyed.
“Yep,” Sebastian says, popping theP. “So many vegetarian dishes.” He’s been steadily drinking wine all night long, and now he’s slumped in his chair, staring murder at Gabe as my parents start ferrying dirty dishes into the kitchen.
I stand and pick up my plate, stacking it on top of Gabe’s. “Knock it off, Seb.”
“You sure like defending him.” He grabs his own plate and stomps out.
“You forgot your wine!” I call after him.
Celeste snickers as she starts clearing away the wreckage from her kids’ place settings. “He’s in a mood.”
“He needs to mind his own business,” I snap.
She steadies a tottery pile of plates before speaking. “He thinks you are his business.” Then she disappears into the kitchen, leaving me alone with Gabe. In the distance, we can hear Aaron wrangling the kids into hats and coats to get them out the door and into their minivan. They’ll head home for the night and be back in the morning for presents, although it’s likely none of them will actually get any sleep out of Santa-based excitement.
“It’s not all Sebastian’s fault.” Gabe reaches out like he wants to take my hand, but he lets his arm fall before making contact. “I have been a total asshole.”
It’s the wrong time for my brother to come back into the dining room.
“Are you kidding me?” His voice echoes off the cathedral ceiling of the dining room. “You soundproudof it!”
Gabe tenses, but he doesn’t say anything. So I do. “Stay out of it, please. You don’t know what’s going on here.”
Seb’s voice turns a little pitying. “Listen, I know you’ve been hard-up for a guy, but you’re too smart to settle for someone who treats you like that.”
“Hey.” Gabe’s voice is sharper than I’ve ever heard it, and it just makes Sebastian madder.
“Oh, you’ve got something to say about it?” he sneers. “The guy who made her carry her own suitcase?”
“Enough with the fucking suitcase!” Gabe throws his hands in the air in frustration. “Yes, I made her carry her suitcase, and it physically pained me to do it. But you people? She carries every hurtful thing you’ve ever said to her.”
We’ve got an audience now. Mom and Dad and Celeste have all come back from the kitchen, and Gabe’s last statement makes my mom gasp.
“Hurtful things? Darby?”
“Nothing. It’s fine.” Explaining any of this to my parents would just hurtthem, which is the last thing I want to do. Gabe was supposed to irritate everyone, not inflict any actual emotional damage.
But when he looks at me, his expression borders on hopeless. “You’ve got to be honest with them sometime. Otherwise, why’d we do all this?”
“You don’t get to tell her what to do,” Sebastian growls.
“Knock it off!” I say, but my brother’s not done yelling.
