Page 84 of I’m Dreaming of a New York Christmas

As for Anneka – her theatre school admission had knocked me sideways. What else didn’t I know about her? Here’s me accusing her of not caring about me and my struggles, but maybe we were both at fault.

Urgh, I hate all this deception.

As I rinsed the silky conditioner out of my hair, I knew it was time to be straight with Ethan about how I’d actually come to be in New York – and where I was actually staying. We’d have a laugh about it, then I’d help him with his speech, buy us takeout for dinner and we’d snuggle on the sofa listening to music before inevitably making our way into bed. Tomorrow, I’d focus on making things right with my sister.

I towel-dried my hair, combed it through and applied some of Ethan’s fancy-pants face cream, taking a deep sniff of its luxury scent. The herbal aroma infused my mind with calmness as I subconsciously prepared my script:

‘Hey, wanna hear a funny story? You know I said I came to New York alone and was staying in an Airbnb? Well, I didn’t! My mum and sister turned up at my flat unannounced a few days ago and bundled me onto a plane as a surprise trip after my shitty year. Wild, huh? They’re currently holed up in the world’s tiniest hotel room in Greenwich Village where I’ve been sleeping in the bathtub because the bed isn’t big enough for the three of us.’

As the script seared itself onto my voice box, ready to be transformed into soundwaves, an uninvited flurry of additional words attached themselves to the end of it:

‘But now my sister hates me, my mum is doing her usual emotionally stunted thing and refusing to talk about it, and coming to your place was the only way to avoid them. Oh, by the way, I really like you and if I had it my way I’d stay here forever.’

I scrubbed out the unwelcome edits with a burning swallow. I unlocked the door and brought the neat pile of clothes – exactly where I knew they’d be – into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar to help the steam dissipate.

‘Everything okay?’ Ethan called.

‘Yep!’ I replied, stepping into the soft trousers, deliberately going commando this time. Once dressed, I hugged Ethan – sitting at his desk – from behind and kissed the back of his neck. ‘How’s the speech coming along?’

‘Yeah, good. Nearly there with the artwork and I think I’ve found a good story flow for it. Would you, er, mind if I did a run-through with you to check it’s working?’

My ‘funny story’ can wait a little.

‘Great idea! I always recommend at least three full run-throughs so your voice gets familiar with the rhythm of it. Are you ready to try one now?’

‘I… guess?’ he replied, understandably a little nervous.

‘No time like the present!’

Ethan launched the presentation on his large screen and swivelled on his chair to face me, his laptop perched on his knees. I was tempted to tell him to try standing up to get used to it, but the first read-through was always the scariest, so I focused on listening and laughing and encouraging until he reached the end.

‘That was so good! I loved that bit about forcing your dad to detour on the road trip so you could visit the world’s largest ball of twine, ha! Want to give it another run-through, but standing up this time? I’ll take a few notes and then we can make some tiny tweaks to get it as tight as possible. Sound good?’

He puffed out his cheeks. ‘Okay, let’s do it.’

We spend the next couple of hours finessing the speech. By the time we were done, Ethan was delivering the punchlines – and the emotional gut punches – like a pro, to the extent that it came across like he’d been working on the speech for months, not days. Ethan ordered in some ramen for dinner, which I insisted on paying for, and we filled our stomachs with nourishing broth while listening to another one of Ethan’s records, icy rain lashing against the apartment windows. It was the cosiest moment of my life.

‘Hey, something funny happened this morning,’ Ethan said, washing up our bowls.

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah, I saw that someone called Anneka Bell looked me up on LinkedIn… that’s your sister’s name, right?’

I wanted to become one with the sofa, but made do with hiding under the blanket instead. ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. Let’s just say that Anneka isn’t the most… subtle of people. I mentioned your name in passing. She’s obviously been playing detective.’

‘Haha, it’s fine. I’m kinda flattered that you told her about me.’

‘I told you last night that she knew I’d met someone.’

‘Sure, but I didn’t realise you’d also told her who you’d met. It’s sweet, that’s all. Hey, I’d love to know more about her – and the rest of your family. Do you get to see them much?’

This was it: the perfect opportunity to tell him that Anneka wasn’t snooping on him from across an ocean, but from across a nearby river. I opened my mouth to deliver my prepared script but, before I could speak, my phone buzzed more intensely than a regular notification, and wouldn’t stop. I looked at the screen to see who was calling me on WhatsApp, registering the name: Laurie.

‘Shit, it’s my best friend calling from the UK. She wouldn’t phone unless it was important; I’m gonna take it in the hallway if that’s okay?’

‘No, you stay here – I’ve been meaning to get to the bodega today.’ He scooped up his coat, shoes and a tote bag and was out the door before he’d even put them on. I accepted the call.

‘Laurie? What’s wrong? Is it the kids?’