Chapter Twenty-Four

Bec

B ec: I can never face my neighbor again thanks to you.

Aiden: Okay? I’m gonna need a little context here, beautiful.

Bec: Don’t sweet talk me.

Bec: I just had something dropped off at my door.

Aiden: Did Santa bring you something? Maybe take it up with the big guy if you don’t like it.

Bec: Aiden fucking Price, I know you sent this to me.

Aiden: Hm, strange. I might have sent you something, but it was only meant to bring…holiday joy. I’m not sensing any holiday joy. I’m sensing Grinch behavior.

Bec: If you were here, I swear to god…

Aiden: Is that an invitation?

Bec: Flirty Aiden doesn’t know when he’s in trouble. You sent a fucking vibrator to my front door and they delivered it to the 85-year-old woman that lives down the hall!

Aiden: You’re welcome. Couldn’t go another day without replacing Hopper’s latest victim. I’d hate for you to get lonely in the shower.

Bec: THERE WAS NO DISCREET PACKAGING, YOU DILLHOLE !

Aiden: Oh shit, seriously? That’s hilarious.

Aiden: I mean, that’s terrible. An honest mistake, I swear.

Aiden: They always send me my stuff in discreet packaging. Did I at least get the right model?

Bec: That’s beside the point. There’s a giant picture of it on the box and a huge red bow on the…tip.

Bec: Wait, what do you mean your stuff? What did you buy?

Aiden: I did select the “holiday packaging” option. I assumed that meant they’d wrap it in Christmas wrapping paper. Guess they decorated the package with a well-placed bow instead.

Aiden: Enjoy your last year on the nice list. I’m predicting you’ll be on the naughty list next year if I have anything to do with it.

Bec: You’re unreal.

Bec: But Merry Christmas you pervert.

Bec: And…thank you.

Aiden: Merry Christmas, Bec.

* * *

My parents’ house at Christmas is chaos exemplified in human form. I fucking love it. I haven’t even stepped away from my car after parking in the street, and I can already hear the roar of conversation flooding out while the glow from the windows streams across the snowy front lawn. My family has never known the meaning of “inside voices.”

The same twinkling Christmas lights, decorations, and wreaths sparkle against the siding of the two-story colonial home; the wear and tear after years of use go unseen, at least to me. Everything is displayed as it usually is, and the familiarity tugs at my heart, a fresh hit of nostalgia warming me from the inside.

I fill my lungs with a deep breath of cold air as I grab my gift out of my backseat for the Secret Santa gift exchange. My parents, siblings, and I decided a few years ago that it’s more fun to focus our attention on giving one great gift instead of trying to keep up with finding something for everyone. I know my dad is going to put the new fishing gear I found him to good use next summer.

After high school, a lot of my classmates chose to attend an out-of-state college. They wanted space. I guess to distance themselves from who they’d been in high school and figure out if they’re someone else entirely when the comfort of their hometown is stripped away. But not me, and thankfully, not Ellie either. I couldn’t imagine living anywhere but here. Even now, my apartment is only a thirty-minute drive from my childhood home, which is just outside the city in a quiet neighborhood. Well, as quiet as it can get with us here. I know I’m lucky that I have a wonderful family. Supportive and kind, if a little overbearing at times.

The calm that washes over me every time I find myself on our street, clears away any lingering stress or frustration from the day. The fact that at one time I welcomed Josh into this part of my life still nags at me. He didn’t earn a place in my safe space, but I brought him here anyway, assuming that was the next step when you’re dating someone. It was only after I brought him home to meet my family, and I could so clearly see the reservations on each of their faces that I realized the seemingly small red flags I thought I saw weren’t only visible to me. When he broke up with me this past July, my family seemed relieved, while obviously still worried about me and how I was handling the separation.

A breakup is one thing. Give me time, and I’ll move on. But what happened with Josh, and what’s been happening in the months since, is what’s worn me down. Our relationship wasn’t built to last. We weren’t a good fit for each other, and that’s okay. But on top of that, after he ended things, he started calling me on random Friday or Saturday nights, drunk, asking me if he made a mistake by breaking up with me. “What if you’re supposed to be the one?” he’d ask me, slurring his words. I’ll admit I was lonely, and I’d answer his calls when I wasn’t with the girls to talk me out of it.

I don’t know if Josh understands the impact of his calls and texts. I’m not even sure how many of our conversations he remembers. To hear from him at night when he’s regretful, to have him rehash a breakup he initiated, to listen while he weighs the pros and cons of being with me all over again, as if I could give him the answers he needed. As if I could tell him if my faults were too much for him to accept. He broke up with me . Why am I his sounding board to decide whether he made the right call? Why have I answered? Why have I listened? I don’t know. The next day, I don’t hear from him at all. Sobering up must remind him of all the reasons why he decided I’m not good enough for him. I never get more than an occasional “I’m sorry” text, usually a day or two later. No explanation. No promises to stop contacting me.

I was going to block his number, but then the frequency of his outreach started to dwindle. I haven’t answered a call from him since Aiden moved back. There’s only been a few of them to miss anyway. But still, I can feel his lingering presence festering like a splinter that I can’t quite dig out, becoming more embedded and painful over time no matter how much I try to ignore it. A wound that no matter how small, is felt and reminds me to be careful who I let in. Reminding me of all the reasons I’m not someone’s perfect person. Reminding me of all the reasons I should question what I’m worth.

I didn’t used to feel like this. I didn’t care what people thought of me. Especially someone who behaves the way Josh does. But I’ve unintentionally let him rattle my confidence and self-assurance.

I shake off thoughts of Josh and the ugly insecurities he’s generated and allow myself a brief moment to imagine what it’d be like to bring Aiden here instead. He’d wear his easy smile and carry himself in that relaxed, collected way he always seems to. My mom and sister would whisper about how handsome he is, and my two brothers would tease me for dating a baseball player when I’m the least athletic person in my family. Sports were never really my thing, but my siblings all managed to excel in at least one. Toby, my oldest brother, would probably have the most to talk to Aiden about, having played baseball in college and being a massive Aviators fan. My dad would welcome him politely but keep a watchful eye on how Aiden interacted with everyone, saving his assessment for my ears only when we have a minute by ourselves, ever the observer. I would watch Aiden with my family and catch his eyes when they drifted back to me like they did at Ellie’s party.

I’d feel seen.

How does he have the power to make me feel seen? We’re not even really together, are we? No. Agreeing to one date doesn’t mean we’re official or anything. He doesn’t even know me. Who’s to say he won’t go running for the hills once he gets to know me better or that he won’t use my flaws against me like Josh in a running list of reasons why I’m not worth his time?

“Bug’s here!” I hear Danny, my older sister, call out from the end of the hall as I step inside and kick the snow off my boots, tugging off my scarf and winter coat, the melting snowflakes already causing my hair to frizz. It takes all of two seconds for her arms to be wrapped around me in a tight hug.

She’s the same age as Aiden, but the two years that separate us don’t feel like much because we’ve always been close. Close enough in age that in her toddler talk she squabbled out Bec as Bug . Bug sure seems like it should be harder for a toddler to pronounce than Bec, but all the same, the nickname stuck. Danny’s lifelong gift to me.

I squeeze Danny right back and watch my brother, Ashton, make his way to us from the kitchen .

“I’ll take this off your hands for you, sis. Don’t want you hurting yourself doing any heavy lifting,” Ashton says with a twinkle in his eye reserved for mischief.

“Ash, don’t you dare,” I say as I cling my gift bag to my chest. “You’ll ruin Secret Santa again . No peeking, you impatient child.”

“I’m the second oldest. Where’d you learn your manners? Respect your elders and all that, huh?” he replies.

“Oh, you stop that. She learned her manners from your father and me, same as you, and look how that turned out. You can’t teach someone who doesn’t want to be taught,” Mom jokes and pulls me out of my brother’s arms and into hers.

“Hey, Momma,” I say into her shoulder.

“Rebecca bear, you haven’t been by all month. I’ve missed you.” Even though all of her children have defaulted to using nicknames, my mom always calls us by our full names.

She releases me and leads us into the kitchen, which overlooks our living room, where my dad and Toby are watching football.

I walk to the Christmas tree, glimmering in the corner of the room, and add my gift to the pile beneath. My gaze roams over the branches, catching on one of the ornaments I made my parents when I was in the second grade, and I smile. The damn thing is so ugly it’s terrifying. I’ve told my parents they don’t need to put it up for my sake, but my dad insists on keeping all of the ornaments we’ve ever made and hanging every single one up each year. The sentiment always makes me melt a little.

After hugging and saying hello to everyone, I settle onto a stool at the kitchen island while Mom and Ash set up a few appetizers on the counter. Popping the first of what I hope to be about a hundred of Mom’s almond cookies into my mouth, the inquisition begins.

“So, what was so important that it kept you from coming to my Christmas cookie exchange? ”

“I promise I’ll make it next year, Mom. I had something come up last minute for work.”

Her expression softens knowing how much I adore my job. While my parents never like to hear any inkling of any of us kids not having a healthy separation between work and our personal lives, they trust us to make the calls on what exceptions we make. Except Toby, they usually beg him every few weeks to make more time for himself.

“More prep for the adoption event you got coming up?” Toby asks from the living room. “I’ve got a friend from work who is looking for a dog. I asked him to hold off and consider waiting for your event instead.”

“Thanks, Toby. I can give you a few fliers to take to your office if you wouldn’t mind. Getting the word out is always tough. People lose sight of things like that during the holiday season.” I pause and toss another cookie back to buy myself a few seconds to think of how to say this without raising any suspicion. “But, uh…that’s not what I meant. I was watching a dog for one of my clients who had to go out of town unexpectedly and couldn’t find boarding. I didn’t think you’d want a big lab puppy prowling around for cookies during your party.”

There. That was perfectly inconspicuous. No need to talk about Aiden. It’s nothing serious anyway. Just two adults who might go on a date next month. And who kiss apparently.

Is it hot in here?

“We missed you. Not just us, of course. Mrs. Oakley from two streets down was asking about you again. Her son just graduated from med school, and she finally got his permission to set him up. She told me she’s a year away from putting the pressure on him to give her grandkids. What do you think, would you be interested in meeting him?”

“As much fun as that sounds, and as wonderful as it’d be to date someone knowing my future mother-in-law is already trying to put my baby maker to work…”

“Ugh, gross, Bec,” Ash groans as he sets out a cheese tray.

“But…I, uh, I’m not looking to meet anyone right now. Maybe Danny and him would get along,” I say, hoping to take the focus off me. The glare Danny sends my way tells me my deflection is unappreciated at best. I flash her a megawatt smile.

“Hm…and why is that, I wonder?” Danny grins maniacally. Shit, does she know? Maybe she talked to Ellie recently? “Her son sounds like a catch. You should totally get his number. What a cute story to be brought together by Christmas cookie matchmaking. Besides, I just started talking to someone from my gym. Sorry.”

“Well, I sort of have a…date. We’re not exclusive, nothing serious. I just wouldn’t feel right seeing both of them at the same time. I’m not trying to play the field or anything.”

That gets everyone’s attention. Danny looks genuinely surprised. Huh, guess Ellie didn’t blab.

“And…? Do we get any more info than that?” Toby asks.

“Who is he?” Ash tacks on.

“When is the date?” Danny beams.

“Okay, everyone give Rebecca a minute. I’m sure she’ll tell us all about him over dinner, right, hun?”

I shrug. “Not too much to tell. We met a few years ago at Ellie’s wedding and he just moved to town. He asked me to go on a date when he picked up his dog…”

“Wait, he’s the client whose dog you were watching?” Danny is way too perceptive for her own damn good. One slip is all it takes. She never misses it.

“Yeah. He had to get out of town for a family thing on short notice, so I offered to help him out. He’s a really nice guy, but I was clear that I didn’t want to jump into a relationship or anything. I agreed to one date after the holidays. ”

“You feeling ready for this, Becca boo?” My dad asks with a hint of concern in his eyes.

“Is anyone ever ready?” I counter.

“You take all the time you need, sweetheart. There’s no timeline to jump back into dating,” Dad says.

“Oh, your father is just being his protective self. You follow that heart of yours, Rebecca. Let it lead you. Trust you’ll find its match.” My mom smiles at me with such hope. I wish I could steal just a piece of it from her. For every bit of optimism my mom possesses, my dad is every bit the realist. I normally take after my dad, but as much as it scares me, the flicker of hope I have about where things could lead with Aiden only seems to be growing with time. My gut twists in knots as my brain tells my heart to be reasonable. But something about Aiden makes me want to throw all reason away and risk it all.