Christmas Lights and Pretend Nights

I still get that warm, toasty feeling whenever I drive back into Evergreen Falls for the holidays. It’s no longer as often as I should, but it’s still there. It’s like magic. The whole place seems to have prepared an orchestra of twinkling lights and snow-covered roofs. Even the carols that used to annoy the s**t out of me now sound holy. It would have been perfect if not for my mother’s determination to marry me off to at least half the town. So, I told myself I’m not here for any of Evergreen’s Christmas stuff. I’m here because of promises. Of family. Mom made me promise to spend Christmas with them, and Dad undoubtedly did his best to “second the motion.” Even though I sound as if I’m annoyed, I love the two of them so much. My older sister Evara is, I guess, included in the equation. We are thirteen months apart and very competitive, but we undoubtedly love each other. I pull into the driveway of my parents’ house - the same house I grew up in. The whole place looks festive, with delicate white lights twinkling everywhere while glowing candy canes line the walkway. While I roll my eyes, I can’t help but smile. I’m home. I can be a b***h about it, but it’s still home. “Holly! Oh, darling. You made it!” She scuttles toward me, squeezing me tight. I can’t help but feel nostalgic as I draw in her gingerbread and peppermint scent. How can she even smell like Christmas? “Mom,” I grumble into the hug, although I’m squeezing her as hard as she is still hugging me. “We’ve missed you so much! Everyone’s asking about you,” she says, smiling widely as she pulls back to look at me. She still has a death grip on my arms. I try not to cringe at the thought of who everyone might be. Ugh, I believe I know what she means by it, and I actively resist, even though I have to do it mentally. “Everyone?” I can’t help but echo, raising an eyebrow. Her mouth curves, but she tries to resist smiling like a Cheshire cat. “It’s the way it is, Holly. The usual folks are curious about how my big-city girl is doing. They’re eager to catch up; some may even surprise you with something.” Right. “Mom,” I protest, looking her in the eye. I know her well. She means that she wants me to consider Ander McAllister or some other local favorite, who, for some reason, is still single. Why bother? These guys never gave me the time of the day when I was still living here. Now that I’m a so-called big-city woman, they want to “catch up”? Seriously? Then, again, my mother always has her interpretation of events. She looks at me with disappointment and something else in her eyes. She sighs, and knowing her, it would only be in momentary defeat. “Alright, then. I will let you settle in. Just promise you’d at least give it a chance. Keep an open mind?” “Sure,” I say with a smile that I know isn’t reaching my eyes. In my mind, I wish I could have a fake boyfriend to shut the matchmaking circus down. A real boyfriend is too much work. I think of Marc, then I shake the thoughts off. “I’m here to relax with you and dad, and even Evara. I want some quiet and your best cocoa.” That doesn’t fail to make her smile. I’m glad she’s not pressing the issue tonight. I carry my suitcase and drop it in the hallway, taking in the space of my youth. I’m barely two steps in, though, when the doorbell rings. “Holly, honey, could you get that?” Mom calls out, seemingly mixing something super important in her bowl. Right. I swing open the door, not expecting much, expecting the worst really, but did not expect my heart do do a little dive. Not a good one. Standing there, looking as smug as ever, is Jack Sullivan. He’s leaning casually against our doorframe, with that infuriating smirk on his face that shows exactly what he is - bored and amused. Jack still looked like the person he was - an arrogant son of the wealthiest family in town. Everything about him was neat and nice, with the tailored coat fitting him a little too well. How I noticed the details was beyond me, since he was watching me with a gaze a little too cool. “Holly McKay,” he drawled. “I never thought you’d come back to grace us with your presence.” “Why, pray tell, are you here, Jack Sullivan?” “I just came back to see how much has changed. Or rather, how little,” he says, looking me up and down, and glancing over my shoulder into the house. he way he looks at me, like he’s sizing me up, is exactly how he used to look at me across the debate stage in high school—like he already knew he was going to win. Flashback: Sophomore year in high school, the regional debate finals. Jack stood on stage, composed and standing with his back ramrod straight, while I fumbled with my notecards, feeling his smug gaze drilling into my soul. I’d won that round, but not without Jack whispering, ‘Lucky break,’ as we passed each other afterward. My back was hunched, as if I had lost. “It’s Evergreen Falls, Jack. We both come from this place. But not everyone gets to go to Europe or Hollywood or New York for the important things in life,” I say, giving him a pointed look. I cross my arms and inch forward. I’m not going to back down. He doesn’t either, but his nose flares. I don’t know if I’m doing the same, but we’re now so close I can smell his perfume, which is like crisp citrus or the woods after the rain. What the f**k? But no, I’m not moving backward. He chuckles, freely showing his amusement. “Fair enough. You’ve tried up for the city lights, though. Good for you.” This time, it’s harder to pinpoint his tone. It sort of flattens and his gaze lingers a little too long. I think it’s making my face itch. “Big career, huh? You living the dream, Holly?” I grit my teeth. I hate that he still makes me act like a petutant child. “Some us actually worked to get there.” His eyes narrow into slits, his smugness faltering. “You actually believe I don’t know what hard work is?” “Honestly?” I shrug. “You’re a Sullivan! You don’t know how to get your hands dirty.” He shifts his weight, straightening himself and giving me a challenging look. “Maybe you just never looked close enough.” There’s a tense pause. It suddenly hits me that Jack is different than I remember. Instead of his usually clean-shaven face, he has a bit of scruff. However, he still has the good ol’ Sullivan arrogance, but there’s something else there. As if he can read her mind, he rubs his scruff and my eyes can’t help but follow the movement. Anyway,” I say, changing tactics. “Thanks for stopping by, but I need to unpack. Bye!” I step back ready to close the door. “Good luck with, uh, whatever you’re here for.” “I’m restoring the old theater,” he says a little too quickly, like someone rushing to get into a closing elevator. “You care about the theater?” I ask, in mock-surprise. I may sound like I dont’ care, but I feel myself feel warm and cold all over. I haven”t set foot in that theater not since the school play in senior year, where he had, of course, snagged the lead role. While I am rattled inside, it looks like I’ve touched on something sensitive in Jack Sullivan, too. I can’t help but grin. “Well, nice catching up with you, McKay. Don’t let the city lights blind you. Remember that we’re now in our little charming town.” He turns and strolls down the path, as if it’s not chilly outside. I am left by the doorway, gaping t him. He doesn’t even look back, but his words linger. Somehow, he’s made me second guess myself, and I haven’t. Not really. Not for a long time. Shutting the door and locking it, I exhale sharply. I realize there’s a weird ache in my chest. Of all the people to meet after my family, it has to be Jack Sullivan. I seethe silently. It doesn’t even surprise me that he’ll still poke around Evergreen Falls. After all, it is where his family’s wealth thrives. He’s probably reliving the good old days than restoring the old theater. “You okay, honey?” Mom’s voice carries from the kitchen. “I’m good. Just met with a ghost from Christmases past,” I grumble. “Not the good kind.” I vow that Jack Sullivan will not make me ruin my holiday or pull me into whatever plans he has for the holiday. Still, I can’t help but wonder what he’s really doing here.