I let out an incredulous laugh and scrubbed the visual.“Noted.”
A cardinal landed on a branch beside us, and Marv pivoted the conversation to a theory that birds were government drones. It was a welcomed distraction.
When we finished the hike, I made my rounds to see my family and deliver their gifts.
My mom gave me an annoyed look and her usualI Don’t Know Why You Can’t Come Here For Christmas Breakfast, You Can Even Bring Your Strange Friendlecture. I ignored the way that, for the first time in years, I kind of wanted to be part of the breakfast and laugh at the chaos over bottomless mimosas.
Brent told me he was jealous I wasn’t putting a dollhouse together in the middle of the night. I smiled but didn’t tell him part of me was jealous of him. Just because I don’t have the kind of chaos he and Caroline have—the kind of chaos we grew up in—doesn’t mean I don’t love it.
As much as I love the path I’m on, part of the reason I was quick to pull away from holiday events five years ago was because it was a sore spot seeing them so easily have what I didn’t. I left the stable career and normal house to live in the woods and brew beer—I knew it was no woman’s fantasy when I made the choice. Sure, they lectured me, but I’m a big boy and could take it. It was easier not to be forced to see how chasing one dream took me away from another.
But it was my sister who sniffed out my bullshit this morning.
“You know you can live however the hell you want, right?”Caroline asked.“Dad doesn’t even care you quit the firm anymore—I think he’s jealous you got out early.”I laughed at that, but she kept looking at me skeptically over the rim of her wineglass as we sat on the steps of her front porch.
I knew she wasn’t wrong. When I left the firm, my dad was furious, they all kind of were. Like me leaving was a personal attack on them, though it was anything but. Years between the decision and now have made things better. Time has closed the gap between all of us. Caroline and Brent came around the fastest, as they were more worried about my sanity than concerned about my life being over. My dad was slower, but he came around. It’s all water under the bridge. He drinks my beer, I laugh at the too-short shorts he wears playing pickleball. He’s never said it outright, but at some point, I think he realized there’s no one right path in this life, and he’s accepted this is mine.
“Something’s off about you,”Caroline pushed. When I didn’t respond, she squealed—literally squealed.“Oh my God, Jay. Have you met someone?”
She’s like a bloodhound with these things, so there was no use denying it. I told her about Hollis—all of it. Her divorce, kids, and crazy stance on traditions.
“So what’s the problem?”She set her wineglass down and pulled a joint and lighter from the pocket of her sweater, making me laugh once again as she lit it.“Go get this broad. I need more estrogen in my life. You and Brent are like cavemen.”
“I’m not sure how,”I admitted, taking a small hit of the joint when she offered it.“She’s good, Car. Really good.”
She frowned.“You’re good too, Jay.”She took one more hit of the joint before stubbing it out.“And it doesn’t sound like she wants to change you like that last bitch you dated.”
I laughed; she was right. Hollis, despite how different we are on some things, seems completely fine with me the way I am. The Airstream. The brewery. Even Marv. After all this time with him, I’d never just be able to let him be alone on the holidays even if I wanted something different.
“You’re annoying,”I told her as I started to leave.“Merry Christmas anyway.”
“Go get her, Jay.”
She said it like it was just that easy. Like I was Santa with magical reindeer and all I had to do was fly into the sky and land on her roof. Like she didn’t have kids to consider and a whole life to get back to.
Before I could tell Caroline any of that, one of her kids screamed and she rolled her eyes before retreating into her house.
In all appearances, it’s been a perfect Christmas Eve alone like the last years have been, only this time, I’m wishing I wasn’t.
A blustery breeze blows across my face and burns my ears.
“Goose,” I call.
He pounces toward me with a ball in his mouth and follows me into the Airstream where I poke at the roast in the crockpot then check my phone—again—to see that Hollis hasn’t called—again.
After her text this morning, I was hoping to hear from her. Maybe even expecting it.
At the Christmas tree on the table, there are five gifts—Holiday Club bowling shirts for each of Hollis’s kids and her. Which, since I’m down some self-loathing spiral, feels a little stupid of me. She might never call. If she doesn’t that means she’s made her mind up. On the other hand, women love to be pursued, so maybe I should call. And she’s busy with four kids, she might have forgotten.
I rake a hand through my hair, stroke my mustache.
This is fucking stupid.
I check my phone again. I should just call. I will call. Tonight. When her kids are in bed. Or maybe at midnight. Or twelve thirty when I know they’re awake.
I swipe my keys off the counter—I’m driving over there. If she doesn’t want me to stay, she’ll just tell me. I can handle that. IthinkI can handle that.
When I swing open the door, I still, my heart skipping several beats as I fight the smile pulling at my lips.
