3. Zane

THREE

ZANE

C hristmas morning greets me with a mix of excitement and dread. The usual holiday cheer is there—the tree in the living room is glowing with lights, the few presents my dad and I exchange underneath, and the smell of coffee drifts through the house—but I can’t shake the weight pressing down on my chest.

Today isn’t just Christmas. It’s the day I planned to propose to Evangeline. I figured with us moving in with each other, it was time. We’ve talked about getting married, but I never hinted about when I’d ask her. Only her parents and my dad know it’s going to happen.

Now, the plan I had for the day seems to be something of the distant memory, and I’m feeling uneasy about asking her to marry me after this whole internship crap we’ve been dealing with. To say the past week hasn’t been easy is the understatement of the year. I was late picking her up for a date. So late, in fact, we missed our reservation for dinner. By then, both our moods were sour, and we called it an early night.

And then, during our movie night, Serena, the assistant from Bamford, lit my phone up with text after text, needing information. I tried to wait until the movie was over, but she was insistent and somewhat flirty, sending the heart emoji and winking faces, and laughing at some of my replies. Ev saw the exchange and didn’t appreciate Serena’s flirtatious behavior. Can’t say I blame her. If my girl was getting these kinds of messages, I would’ve seen red. Regardless, the internship once again ruined our night.

I know Ev doesn’t want me to take the job. Part of me understands. By taking his job, I’m screwing up our plans. We’re supposed to move in together, and while I’m there, I’ll be living out of a suitcase. Spending an eight-hour return journey on a train will make me feel like a visitor instead of a tenant. But this was her idea, and it’s better than the alternative.

Breaking up isn’t an option.

Neither is asking her to marry me right now. Not with this job driving a wedge between us. Once I get my feet on the ground and we’re in a routine, we’ll be back on the same page. While a Christmas proposal is about perfect for my holiday-loving girlfriend, a graduation one will be just as special.

I drag myself out of bed and pull on a sweater, trying to ignore the knot tightening in my stomach. My dad and I always spend Christmas morning together opening our gifts, and then we head over to the Holcombs’ for lunch, dinner, and dessert. My dad and my mom, when she was alive, have always been very close friends with the Holcombs. Even as a child, we spent Christmas evening at their house. Now, with my mom gone, we go over earlier.

When I walk into the kitchen, Dad’s already at the table, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he reads the newspaper, sipping his coffee. He looks up when he hears me, and smiles. “Morning, son. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Dad.” I force a smile and grab a mug from the cabinet, pouring myself some coffee. The warmth helps, but it doesn’t settle the nerves swirling in my gut. I wish I could turn off my emotions for one day.

Dad looks at me over the rim of his mug. “You all right?”

I hesitate, then nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about today.”

He sets his mug down, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Is this about Evangeline? Are you asking her today?”

I don’t answer right away. Instead, I take a slow sip of my coffee, trying to find the right words. “No, I think with everything going on, I’m going to wait until graduation. I don’t know, waiting seems wrong, too.”

Dad leans back in his chair, waiting for me to continue.

“This past week, things have been off, and it’s the job’s fault. Which doesn’t make Ev happy. It’s like no matter what, I can’t get her on board with this internship, and I’m worried I’m making a mistake,” I say, my voice quiet. “I don’t know if I want to leave Ev in Boston by herself. But I also don’t know if I can pass up the opportunity, either.”

He nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “And Evangeline won’t go with you?”

I let out a long breath and shake my head.

Dad’s quiet for a moment, his gaze steady. “Well, look at this way. You’re building a future for the two of you. Only good can come from it.”

I nod, though I’m not sure if I believe it. “Yeah . . .” I take a drink of my coffee and let the warm liquid settle.

He sighs, his eyes soft with understanding. “I believe everything will work out. The two of you have been together for a long time. Granted, this seems like your first hurdle?”

I nod again.

Dad laughs and comes toward me. He sets a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Son, get ready to run the race because you and Evangeline will face a ton of hurdles in your life. This is only the start.”

The drive to the Holcombs’ feels longer than usual, even though it’s barely ten minutes down the road. It snowed overnight and the plows haven’t been out yet. Everyone deserves to spend the morning with their families. Dad’s humming along to a Christmas song playing on the radio, but I barely register the tune. My thoughts are too loud, circling around what’s waiting for me at the farm. Evangeline. Her family. The way things were last Christmas, when everything felt simple. The way I intended today to be. My only hope is that her parents aren’t expecting me to propose today because I don’t want to let them down.

We pull into the driveway, and I take a deep breath, bracing myself as we step out of the truck. The Holcombs’ house looks as warm and inviting as always, the smell of pine trees and cinnamon in the air, wreaths hanging from the porch, and twinkling lights outlining the windows.

Dad claps me on the shoulder as we make our way to the front door. “Come on, son. Let’s enjoy Christmas, all right? Worry about school, the job, and everything else tomorrow.”

I nod, but the knot in my stomach tightens as we step onto the porch. Christmas music plays, softly coming through the window. There’s a fire blazing in the fireplace, and I glimpse Ev dancing around the living room with her dad, Benny. Seeing her happy and smile causes me to pause. Benny twirls her around and she laughs. Her head falls back, and I see the diamond stud earrings I bought for her last Christmas secured in her earlobes.

She loves me. I know this without a doubt, and I’m causing her hurt by taking this job. Evangeline won’t tell me, but I know she doesn’t want to live alone in Boston. The excuse of having to study is just that, an excuse. We’ve spent hours together at the library, in rooms at the school, and in our respective apartments with our heads bent over books. She doesn’t need space or quiet .

The door opens before we can knock, and Mrs. Holcomb greets us with her usual warm smile. “Merry Christmas, you two! Come on in, come on in.”

“Merry Christmas, Clara,” Dad says, stepping inside. I follow, trying to return her smile, but it feels weak, like my heart isn’t in it. But it is because this is where I want to be.

As soon as I step in, my stomach growls and my mouth waters. The smell of roasting turkey fills the air. I think this is one of the best parts of the holidays—the food—especially a home-cooked meal.

Eve walks toward me, acting as if nothing is wrong. I appreciate the effort to save face in front of our families on a day like today. She kisses me softly. “Merry Christmas, Zane.”

“Merry Christmas, Evangeline.”

She takes the bag of gifts from my hands and heads toward the tree, while I take my coat off and hang it up. I follow the voices into the family room, where everyone has gathered. They’re people I’ve known most of my life, who have become like family to me. I shake hands with the men, hug the women, and ruffle the hair of the younger generation.

Evangeline returns with a class of soda for me and a plate of snacks. “Did you eat breakfast?”

I nod. “Dad made eggs and bacon.”

“Do you want one of Alma’s cinnamon rolls?”

“No, thanks.” I push her blonde hair behind her shoulder and look at her earrings. “Those look fantastic on you. ”

“Thank you.” She fiddles with the one in her right earlobe. “They’re my favorite.”

“But you only wear them on special occasions.”

Eve nods. “I don’t want to lose them.”

“I get it, but I want you to wear them,” I tell her. “That’s why I gave them to you.”

Her smile beams. If we weren’t in a room full of people, I’d lean down and kiss her, but the youngsters will heckle us.

She sways back and forth, her fingers gripping some of my red cable-knit sweater. “I think we should’ve coordinated better.”

I don’t know why I’m only noticing now, but she’s wearing red as well. Normally, we make sure we’re not in the same color, so our pictures will look good, and we don’t look like those couples who match on purpose.

“When it’s time for pictures, I’ll take mine off,” I tell her. “My T-shirt underneath is green.”

“Perfect.”

She does, in fact, give me a small peck before going back into the kitchen to help her mom and aunts with cooking. I join the guys, chatting about sports, while one of the teen cousins takes this as his cue to find the NBA game broadcast for us to watch. Unless the Celtics are playing, I don’t really care to watch the game.

Clara calls us all for dinner, and it’s like a mad rush of bulls heading through Spain. The thunderous footsteps cause the house to shake. Benny yells out for everyone to slow down, but holiday food always hits differently. It’s really the only time I ever have seconds, and sometimes thirds.

There isn’t a table big enough to fit all of Evangeline’s family, so we separate into two very large tables, and thankfully, Eve and I are at the adult table. We’ve done our time at the kiddie table over the years.

Thankfully, Evangeline has the chair next to her saved for me. As soon as I sit down, her hand seeks mine. I link our fingers together and wonder if I should’ve asked her to marry me today. I suppose there’s still time. Maybe it’s the best move for us.

Bowls of deliciousness are handed from person to one another. I pile mashed potatoes, corn, and some green bean casserole on to my plate along with a roll, and prime rib. My mouth waters at the food.

“I did the mashed potatoes,” Eve whispers to me. “I made them the way your mom used to.”

Her words stop my heart. That she thought of making them like my mom did warms me.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Partway through dinner, my cell phone rings. Everyone stares. “Sorry,” I say as I take it out of my pocket. I glance at the screen and instantly hope Evangeline isn’t looking when I silence the call from the overly flirty assistant. Her rigid posture tells me otherwise.

“It’s Christmas, Zane,” she says under her breath when my phone starts vibrating again.

“I know. I’m sorry,” I say again. But the damage is done. There is absolutely no reason for Serena to call me on Christmas. It’s a holiday and I know Bamford Associates is closed for a few days, so there is no reason for her to call me on Christmas Day. It’s another reason I feel uneasy about taking her call and feel uneasy even though I wasn’t the one to initiate it. Anything she would need from me could wait until the holiday was over. Any progress I’ve made with Eve on accepting this will all work out is likely gone, which means I need to really assess whether this job is for me or not.