She paused for a moment. “It’s going to be weird without Dad. And not being at home this year.”
“Yeah,” was all I could say without breaking. My mind went back to last year, when Christmas morning was spent crowded around my dad’s bedside because he was too sick to move to the family room. We even moved the Christmas tree to his bedroom. That was probably why I couldn’t stomach the thought of putting up my own tree this year.
Chloe sighed. “So, I just talked to Mom. Do you want the bad news or the really bad news first? And it’s actually the same thing.”
I groaned, grabbing all my toiletries I’d need for the week from my bathroom drawers and dropping them onto my bed. “No news. I’m not interested in any news if it relates to Mom and her new husband.” In our own private circles, we referred to Russ as the new husband.
“You might want to be warned of this one.”
“UGH. What?”
“You know the Fosters?”
“The family that’s been our neighbors our entire lives? Yeah. I’ve heard of them.”
“You can cut the attitude. Trust me, I am doing you a favor right now.”
Instantly, the tension in my shoulders reappeared. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Turns out…Mom and Russ invited them to come with us this week.”
I groaned.
“That’s not the bad part.”
My breath caught. “Don’t even say—"
“Glenn’s here for the holidays, and from the impression I got talking with Mom this morning…she and Virginia Foster are planning this week to be a romantic re-awakening of sorts for the two of you.”
“Shut your face.”
“I believe the schedule is for you two to fall in love by Day 3 and start having babies within the next six months.”
“That math doesn’t even make sense.”
“I know.”
I sank onto my bed in shock as dread began dripping through my veins like an IV.
Chloe went on. “I tried to tell her that it was over between you two and that you have no interest in him, but Mom’s pretty convinced that you ruined your life by breaking up with him all those years ago.”
The more she spoke, the more weight her revelation put on me. Glenn Foster was going to be at the lodge. All week long. Unfiltered panic began to race through every vein in my body.
No.
NO.
I had my whole week figured out. I was going to fake it all. Smiles. Hugs. Friendliness. And then I’d go back home and cry my eyes out. I did NOT need the added complication of an old flame (and not even a real flame, more like a match you strike once before you realize you’d rather just freeze) trying to make a move. And he would. He never got over the fact that I had broken up with him. I could honestly see the week going one of two ways: him following me around, making sure I was aware of all the things I had missed out on while not being with him, or acting too cool and aloof to talk to me at all, which wouldn’t last long if our mothers were behind our supposed reconciliation. Either scenario had too much Glenn Foster for my taste.
“Say something,” Chloe said.
“I have no words.”
“Alright, plan B. We find you a hot lumberjack at the lodge. There are going to be other families there. Odds are somebody hot and single will be around. Give Glenn some competition.”
“This is not one of your Hallmark movies. Hot single men are never where you need them. Also, are there still legit lumberjacks living in the world today?”
“Mmmhhhmmm,” was the only dreamy reply my romantic sister could muster.
“We’ve got to get you reading different books. I’ll bring a Jane Austen for you tomorrow.”
“No. Listen to my latest I just finished. Even you’d love this one. This hot, reclusive lumberjack rescues a beautiful woman he found in the woods. She’d hurt her leg and lost her memory. So obviously, he had to take her back to his secluded cabin to help her heal and figure out who she was. It was the right thing to do.”
“I’m sorry. You’re right. It does sound like an American classic.”
“I’ll text you the name of it. You’re gonna love the cover.”
“Please tell me his shirt’s unbuttoned.”
“You’ll have to wait and see. Hopefully, we’ll find the real thing when we get there.” She paused, then added soberly, “I just…I’m not sure what to do about Glenn.”
My stomach began to tighten. I did not want to be set up, and I really didn’t need an unwanted ex-boyfriend hanging around with my family all week. I would soon be seeing my mother cuddled up with somebody who wasn’t my dad. I’d have to act normal around Russ all the while keeping my chin up and my smile in place so as not to ruin Christmas for everyone. I couldn’t handle the thought of some awkward setup. Not when I was just trying to survive the week with a smile still attached. Trying to keep my emotions civil would be a full-time job.
So, on a whim, I pulled out something I thought might save me…a harmless white lie.
“As good as a sexy lumberjack sounds, I’ve actually been seeing somebody the past few weeks, so I think Glenn and his mom might be disappointed.”
A long pause and then, “Wait, WHAT?” An explosion of excited words burst across the telephone from where she stood in New Hampshire and where I stood in Stanton. I pulled the phone away to save my eardrums. “When was this?! Why didn’t you tell me? What does he look like? OH MY GOSH, Olive, this is HUGE!”
“It’s all pretty new.” Extremely new. So new it’s almost not even worth mentioning ever again. “It’s not a big deal. I promise.”
“Tell me everything,” Chloe demanded. “Unless you’re lying. Wait. Are you lying? This sounds too convenient.”
I hesitated. If I was going to sell this, Chloe couldn’t know the truth. She and my mom were too close. Chloe would accidentally spill the beans, and I’d be tricked under the mistletoe with Glenn before I could stop it. No. I’d tell Chloe the truth after Christmas, when my imaginary lover got kicked to the proverbial curb. And she would understand. Actually, now that I thought about it, she had to understand. She owed me one. She lied to me for three weeks about dating Dirk McCoy in high school. So…yeah. That didn’t make me sound petty at all.
“I’m not lying,” I lied.
“Okay, hold on. I’m putting on a show for the kids so I can listen uninterrupted in my bedroom. First love, yay!”
My eyes widened. “No, Chlo, I’m not in love. I just…we’ve gone out. Like on dates and stuff.” I stood and began pacing the floor, stopping at my chest of drawers near the window.
“Is he your boyfriend?”
My mind quickly did the math. Casual dates did not a boyfriend make. What was the saying again? Date as many guys as you wanted, but kiss only one? (Or in my case, none. A very big, fat none.) If I was going to play the fake-other-man card, I would need to put a title on it.
“Yup. He’s my boyfriend.”
“Who is he? How did you meet him?” This time, her voice had lowered a few octaves. Much less squealing and maybe a smidge suspicious? Like she was sniffing around and smelling something that didn’t quite add up. I needed to add a few irons to the fire.
“It’s all happened fast. The boyfriend title is…new. But I really like him.”