He holds up a large metal bowl. “Seren brought some kind of trail mix stuff to our housewarming party, and then she left it. Remember?”

  “Muddy buddies,” I say. “Hers are famous, but Seren has never made trail mix in her life.”

  “Whatever,” James says. “When I heard there was a party, I figured I could bring the bowl back.”

  I yank the bowl out of his hands. “Thanks. Got it. You can go.”

  James frowns. “You have gotten so rude that I can’t even write it off as general American bad manners.”

  “No, it’s more like ‘irritated boyfriend dealing with the unwanted ex,’” I say. “Are Brits super nice to their girlfriend’s exes over there?” I feign a bad British accent. “Do you invite them in for tea?”

  “Bentley,” Barbara says, the same way I say “Lucky” when I’m warning her.

  She’s tugging on my leash.

  Maybe that’s a good sign? “Fine,” I say. “Come on in.” I swing the door wide and step through, slinging an arm around Barbara’s shoulders.

  “Gee, thanks,” James says as he walks through the door.

  “What’s your husband doing here?” Nikki asks.

  “I thought you divorced him,” Ricki says.

  “I did,” Barbara says. “But we still work together.”

  “But this isn’t work,” Nikki says. “So why are you here?” She frowns.

  James stops just past the doorway, staring blankly at the two girls.

  “Why are the double twins here?” he asks, his head turning slowly toward Barbara.

  “Are you going to be our new daddy?” Ricki steps closer, her eyes wide. She brings her hands into a prayer position. “I always wanted a British daddy.”

  “And I’ve always wanted a pony.” Nikki’s beaming too. “Will you buy me one for Christmas?”

  “Did someone say pony?” Emerson’s new wife, Elizabeth, turns around. “Because a friend of mine has this gorgeous black pony for sale at the barn, and if you want a pony for a kid, Fuego is the one you want.”

  James’ eyes widen. “What on earth⁠—”

  “Barbara’s fostering Nikki and Ricki right now,” I say. “You didn’t hear?”

  Barbara shakes my arm off and walks toward the girls. “That’s enough messing around, you two.”

  “What?” Nikki says. “You don’t want to be our daddy?” Her grin’s pure evil, and I love her for it.

  “Stop,” Barbara hisses.

  “I thought that would work better than punching him,” Ricki says. She’s not smiling. She looks dead serious.

  “Can we talk for a minute?” James points at the office.

  “What do you want to talk about?” Ricki asks.

  I’m ready to adopt her.

  “Adult stuff,” James says.

  “If you want her to date you again. . .” Ricki shakes her head. “Just remember. She’s not that stupid.”

  I can’t help laughing.

  Barbara glares, but that just makes me laugh harder.

  “Look, all I’m saying,” Nikki says, “is if I had to pick between that guy.” She points at me. “And you?” She shrugs. “Hands down, pick the rich guy who’s nice.”

  I high five her.

  “It’s fake,” Barbara says. “Bentley and I made a deal that he’d escort me to holiday parties to pay me back for helping him figure out online dating.”

  Now every single person in the room is staring.

  “You—it was—a deal?” James glares at me, like I’m the villain.

  And I want to sink into the carpet.

  After James goes into the study with Barbara on his heels, I look around the room for something to destroy. Luckily, Seren intercepts my rage-filled fuming by handing us all bowls of popcorn and cranberries. “Let’s make some garland, shall we?”

  I’ve stabbed my finger three times with the blunt-tipped needle when Nikki takes it away from me. “There are some times when men shouldn’t be armed. I think this is one of them.”

  “Yeah,” Ricki says. “You look a little stabby to be holding that.”

  “I can’t believe she’s talking to that guy,” I mutter, realizing that I should not be talking to these little girls about this. “But let’s talk about Christmas, huh? Are you guys ready?”

  “Do you like her?” Nikki asks. “Because it kind of looks like you do, and you did help her trick us that night.”

  “Then you stuck around for a long time after,” Ricki says. “And you dug through trash and ignored a lot of rats.”

  “I like you way better than that guy.” Nikki flings her thumb backward at the door. “Even if he does sound cooler than you.”

  “Why does everyone love a British accent so much?” I ask. “Their drinks are always room temperature, and they spell everything wrong.”

  “James Bond’s British,” Jake says as he walks in from the back room. “I think that’s why everyone likes the accent so much.”

  Bea rolls her eyes.

  “Oh good. Everyone’s in here now.” I am so glad this can be a family discussion.

  “I’m not sure how Uncle Bentley feels is any of our business,” Seren says. “I think it’s between Bentley and Barbara.”

  “We live with her, though,” Nikki says. “I think we deserve to know.”

  “And I really want to know, too.” Elizabeth leans closer to the girls. “Keep asking questions. Barbara’s really tough, but Bentley’s a softie. I think we can crack him.”

  “Elizabeth,” Emerson says. “Come on.”

  “I want to know too,” Bea says. “I’ve wondered for years why two amazing people like them didn’t date.” Her eyes are sparkling. “This is just the most exciting night.”

  “For the love—” Dave says. “Honey, turn the holiday music up higher.”

  “So do you like her?” Ricki asks. “Or not?”

  And now everyone’s looking at me—even Killian, who had been hiding in the corner with his headphones on. I realize that he may have been pretending not to listen while he was really paying attention the whole time. Teenagers are the worst.

  “I do like her,” I finally say. “It took me long enough to realize it, but⁠—”

  “Why did it take you so long?” Jake asks. “Now that I have lots of money, will I get stupid, too?”

  That kid needs to be punched a few times. Maybe he’ll stop running his mouth so much. “Now I’ve actually told her how I feel,” I say, “she persists in thinking I’m just playing my part.”

  “How did you tell her, though?” Jake asks.

  “Yeah,” Killian says. “Was it, like, ‘hey, let’s hang out?’ Because my friend Dana says that a lot of guys do that, and it’s annoying. You should just tell her you want to date her and that you’re serious about it.”

  I look at the ceiling, hoping for a little patience. “I was very clear,” I say. “But she thanked me, because that idiot—” I throw my thumb over my shoulder. “Walked up right behind me. I think she thought I was saying stuff so that he’d overhear.”

  “James is still screwing things up now?” Seren shakes her head. “He really is the worst.”

  “Are we sure it’s really a good time to tell her how you feel?” Dave asks. “Maybe it’s good that she didn’t understand you.”

  “Yeah, maybe you should wait a bit,” Seren says. “It’s been a really bad year.”

  “Isn’t that when you need good news the most?” Bea asks.

  “It’s not like he’s showing up on her door with a big check,” Dave says.

  “A big check?” Killian asks. “Why would he bring a big check?”

  “Because he’s rich,” Ricki says. “Everyone likes a rich guy. That’s a good idea.”

  “No.” Dave shakes his head. “I’m talking about the Publisher’s Clearinghouse thing. That big check he can barely carry that Ed McMahon brings?”

  Everyone in the room, other than me and Seren, just stares at him blankly.

  “Never mind all of that,” I say. “Look, I don’t know whether to press it, or just leave it alone for now.”

  “Tell her again,” Ricki says. “Sometimes girls need to be told things a lot.”

  “Don’t do it,” Jake says. “She’ll just reject you if she’s not ready, and then things will be super weird. Tonight has already been weird enough.”

  “But,” Bea says, “if she doesn’t know he’s serious⁠—”

  Seren and Dave, Elizabeth and Emerson, and even Killian all have opinions, and they’re all sharing them, and I have no idea what anyone’s saying when the door from the office opens abruptly.

  James has his hands shoved into his pockets, and he’s looking at the floor when he marches through. . .and walks right out the front door. That’s good news, at least.

  “So you told him to take a hike?” Dave asks, the second the door closes.

  Bless him.

  “I told him that he and I were a bad idea from the start,” Barbara says. “And that it’s best if we don’t try to reopen that Pandora’s box.”

  “You should’ve let Bentley hit him,” Ricki says. “That would’ve been way cooler.”

  Jake laughs and ruffles the hair on Ricki’s white-blond head. “You’re alright, kid.”

  Ricki flushes bright red and swallows.

  “Knowing James, he’d have sued Bentley,” Barbara mutters.

  It would have been worth it.

  “Yeah, but he’s rich,” Nikki says. “He could have paid him.”

  “And then James would have Bentley’s money,” Dave says. “Better that Barbara just sent him packing.”

  “Aaand that’s way more time talking about my ex than I like,” Barbara says. “What were you guys doing while I was in there? Making garland?” She looks at my string, which has three pieces of popcorn, one of them a little red from my blood, and one smooshed cranberry. Then she turns slowly to look at Seren’s, which has double that. No one else has even started a strand. “No one’s. . .done one yet?”

  Elizabeth laughs, but it sounds forced. “Well, Bentley stabbed his finger.”

  “Where’s Ardath when you need her?” Barbara asks. “And speaking of things that I don’t understand, why’s the holiday music so loud?”

  Seren shifts over so she can turn it down. “Ardath’s coming, but she had a late shift, so⁠—”

  As if she was summoned, Ardath breezes through the front door. “Was that James I just saw leaving?” Her nose is scrunched. “Please tell me he’s not back.”

  “Did no one like him?” Barbara asks. “Why didn’t you guys tell me this stuff before I married him?”

  “We like Bentley,” Emerson says.

  And everyone in the room now looks really, really uncomfortable. Which is exactly how I feel. It’s not like everyone thinks it’s a good idea. They’re all split. And what happens if I swing for the fences. . .and Barbara turns me down? Then am I the one who gets cut out, like stupid James?

  It’s not a comforting thought.

  By the time we’ve all made a string of garland, Seren’s pumpkin cookies have come out of the oven, and Ardath has made her pretzel pecan crunchy candy things, and the music’s blasting “I’ll be Home for Christmas,” and it feels like we’ve almost recovered from the horribly awkward conversation I caused.

  “So what time are we getting together on Christmas Eve?” I ask.

  Dave bites his lip.

  Seren half-cringes.

  They lock eyes.

  Emerson and Elizabeth are also sharing some kind of weird look.

  “We’re all going on a cruise this year,” Bea finally says.

  “It’s my fault,” Elizabeth says. “I mentioned that I’d always wanted to do something like that for Christmas, and then Emerson’s grandmother booked us all on the Celebrity cruise out of Stockholm without even really confirming we could all go, but she did pay for it, and it does sound really cool.”

  “Out of. . .” I’m confused. “Wait, so you’ll all be gone?”

  “She booked Mom and Dad and all the siblings,” Emerson says. “And it happened so fast.”

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Barbara says. “I think it’s great you’re all going.”

  But neither she nor I have had a Christmas Eve that wasn’t at Dave and Seren’s in. . .fourteen or fifteen years, probably. Not since they got Emerson. “Right,” I say. “I mean, it’s totally fine.”

  “You guys said you didn’t want to celebrate Christmas this year anyway,” Barbara’s saying to Ricki and Nikki.

  At the exact same time as I say, “We should do Christmas at my house instead, then.”

  But then I freeze. Because the girls said they don’t want to celebrate. And now I’m sticking my foot right in it. “Uh, never mind.”

  “Actually, I do want to go to Bentley’s,” Ricki says. “I think that sounds fun. Can we have hot chocolate and make a snowman?”

  “I can’t promise the snowman,” I say. “That’s kind of up to Mother Nature, but I can offer lots of kinds of hot chocolate.”

  “Our mom always made it from real chocolate, in a pot,” Nikki says, her voice super quiet.

  “I can show Bentley how to do that,” Seren says.

  “That would be—are you sure?” Barbara asks.

  In that moment, I’m entirely sure. And I’ve also made up my mind. I’m going to tell Barbara how I feel on Christmas Eve. Between the holiday spirit and the adorable little girls, and my dog showing her what a good guy I am, how could it go wrong?

  13

  Barbara

  My mom loved Christmas. She usually had the tree up before Halloween, and she didn’t even bother putting orange lights on it or anything. She bought more ornaments for that poor tree every year, until it was almost bowed down to the ground with them.

  Mom made us go caroling every year, even though it’s freezing in New York and it was clear that people didn’t want to stand there with their door open for ten minutes. She made a dozen different kinds of holiday cookies. She strung lights on her porch, on her bushes, and on the trunks of her trees. Basically, she put them anywhere she could without Dad risking falling off a ladder and breaking his neck.

  She always picked a family to surprise with little gifts every day for the twelve days leading up to Christmas Day. When I was a kid, I loved racing to the front door to leave them something and then rushing back to the car, hoping not to be caught.

  Mom brought holiday cheer with her everywhere she went.

  You’d think I’d be aching to do the same, especially now that she’s gone. I kind of am, actually, but the girls haven’t really revisited the issue since slamming the door in my face, so the lights are still in a pile by the tree, and it’s still in a bucket. No other decorations have even been hauled up from my apartment-assigned storage area.

  Nikki looks like she may nod off in the car, and I’d rather not have them fall asleep just before we get back home.

  “I’m surprised you wanted to visit Bentley for Christmas,” I say on the way home.

  Nikki’s eyes shoot open. “Why?”

  “Well, my mom loved Christmas,” I say. “After she died.” I shrug. “I’m not sure. My love for the decorations and stuff, it all just made me think of her. And thinking of her hurts.”

  “Our mom loved Christmas too,” Ricki says. “But that’s not why we wanted to skip it this year.”

  “You wanted to skip it?” I ask. “As in, now you don’t?”

  “I’m excited to go to Bentley’s,” Ricki says. “I like him. Don’t you?”

  “But why did you want to skip it before?” I refocus on a question for which I’m comfortable searching for the answer. “You said you wanted, implying that now you don’t.”

  “Well.” Nikki shrugs. “Our dad and mom were together until a few years ago.”

  A few years ago?

  “Yeah,” Ricki says. “Back when he was still around sometimes, Dad actually bought us all this stuff one year. He was super duper excited. We helped him wrap some stuff for Mom, too.”

  “Okay.”

  “But then,” Nikki says, “on Christmas morning, he was just gone.”

  “Gone?” I can’t help my frown. I hope they can’t really see it in the rearview mirror, which is the only way they can see me right now.

  “He smiled his way through us opening the presents and then he said he had to go to the bathroom. We waited like half an hour, and then we went to check on him,” Ricki says. “We found a note on the bathroom counter. He’d gone out the window, I guess. It said, ‘I wanted to give you the best Christmas ever, but I can’t.’” She shakes her head. “And then he was just gone.”

  “Everything is like that,” Nikki says. “Sometimes something really good will happen, but when it does.” She sighs.

  “Something really, really bad always happens right after,” Ricki says.

  I wonder whether they’ve realized how often they finish each other’s sentences.

  “I think those were just coincidences,” I say. “It’s not really how life works. As you get older, plenty of good things will happen, without any bad things happening right after.”

  Nikki and Ricki look at each other, and I can tell they don’t believe me.

  “When else did bad stuff follow good?”

  “Oh, lots of times. But recently, Mom had lost a few jobs,” Nikki said. “But then she got a great one. She was in charge of development for wreaths for this home decor company, and she got to design them all day. It was her favorite thing to do.”

  “And a week after she got the job, we found out she was sick,” Ricki says. “One week.”

  “Yes, but⁠—”

  “We want to go see Bentley,” Nikki says. “But can you maybe tell him not to get us any presents?”

  It breaks my heart, seeing how nervous they are for anything wonderful to happen in their lives.

  “Speaking of good things, I haven’t told you two this yet, but there’s a gum company that wants to do a remake of an old commercial, and they’d like to use you to do it. Retro stuff is back, and they think it’ll be a big hit.”

  Nikki shakes her head. “Can we say no?”

  I’m just floored. “Don’t be silly. Listen, this is great news, and it pays well.”

 

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