I knew something was wrong the moment mom called hours after dinner time.
Two seconds into the call, I could understand why.
‘Please tell me you’re joking, mom?’ My fingers tightened around the phone.
‘I honestly wish I was, hon, but the doctor confirmed the cancer is in its final phase.
Just three weeks left in this world,’ mom sniffled.
Grandma Eleanor was the toughest woman I’d ever known; how dare the doctors put a deadline on her life?
‘That’s really terrible,’ my throat felt clogged.
‘She wants everyone to gather at the family farmhouse this Christmas one last time,’ mom continued in the same solemn tone. ‘And by everyone, she means everyone, Thea.’
I swallowed hard. ‘What?’
‘Grandma insists you come with Derek. It’s all she could ever talk about.’
If I was expecting another bombshell, this was certainly not on the list.
‘But mom, Derek’s really busy and…’
‘Tell that to the dying woman who just wants to see her future son-in-law for the first time.’
‘Mom…’
‘Her dying wish, Thea. It’s the last good thing you can do for her before she leaves this earth. Anyways, gotta go. Talk to you tomorrow. Don’t disappoint her, Thea.’
The call ended with a resounding click.
My hands shook as I dropped the phone from my ear. Grandma wanted to see Derek? My architect boyfriend of three years, who simply adores me, who is always on the move from country to country and, who doesn’t exist.
I raked my fingers through my hair, pacing around in my bedroom, recalling all those lies I had told my family about Derek. How he hated cilantro because I did; his marathon time, proposal plan, even down to his cat allergy.
Mom had his favorite dinner memorized and she never failed to remind me almost everytime we speak. I even learned Grandma embroidered a Christmas stocking with his name.
To be honest, Derek was more real to my family than most of my actual relationships.
Christmas was a fortnight away. I had fourteen days to provide a man that matched my three years of elaborate fiction, or confess to my dying grandmother that I had been lying to her since the first Christmas I didn’t come home.
Might as well become the Grinch who stole Christmas.
I checked the time on my phone: 11PM. My hands were shaking, and I couldn’t sit or sleep. I needed to walk out, clear my head and find a drastic solution.
Passively, I went to the kitchen and removed the empty trash bin. It didn’t matter if it didn’t have any trash in it. I just needed to go outside.
I lived in an apartment complex, so I had to pass the hallway I shared with several others. They were all okay, but none of them was as insufferable as my next door neighbor- Miles Parker.
It had been two years of parking spot warfare, passive-aggressive notes, especially from him, and hostility crackling between us every time we crossed paths.
I could swear I was this man’s sworn enemy in his past life.
But now, passing his door, I heard his voice in a tone I had never heard before. He was talking to someone in a raw, hollow tone, and I couldn’t help but eavesdrop.
‘I won’t be coming home for Christmas because there’s no home to come to,’ his voice broke down a little.
I pressed my ears to the door.
‘My parents are dead, I have a brother that hasn’t spoken to me in a decade, tell me exactly what home is left to come to,’ he continued to talk in that strained voice.
‘No, no, I’m spending this holiday alone, because that’s all I have left- being alone.’
As I stood frozen in that hallway, the idea took shape in my head before I could stop it.
My way out was right next to me, all along.
On impulse, I knocked on the door of my arch nemesis, and for the first time I wanted a truce rather than a one-on-one clash.
He opened the door almost immediately, and I took note of the fact that his hair was a mess and his eyes were hollow, with eye bags underneath- like someone who hadn’t slept for days.
His expression shifted from exhaustion to irritation the second he saw me, and I knew he was about to slam the door in my way, so I spoke up quickly.
‘I’m not here to shove an ice down your pants again, please,’ I clasped my hands together, ‘just hear me out. I really need your help.’
He rolled his eyes and was about to shut the door, but I kept talking.
‘It’s quite urgent. For my dying grandma,’ I tried making those puppy dog eyes I saw on cartoons. I need you just the week leading up to Christmas because that’s when everyone will be there. Pretend to be my boyfriend. There’s free lodging at my family house and free food. If you help me, I’ll never fight about the parking spot. Ever again. I know it sounds insane, but I’m asking anyway. Please.’
I forced myself to keep my puppy dog eyes until it felt like I was squinting, but I got no response from him. Rather, an expressionless stare, with the silence stretching between us like our years of clashing.
I sighed in despair, knowing this had been a terrible idea. Might as well carry my humiliation between my legs and scurry along.
But one last look at his face, and I noticed something- something I had never seen before.
‘What’s the boyfriend’s name?’ He asked in a gruff tone.
‘Derek,’ I answered, feeling hopeful.
‘All right then. I’ll do it,’ he agreed before slamming the door in my face.
No negotiations about logistics or money; he just agreed complacently.
I should feel relieved, but instead, I felt like I had missed something important. The man who had fought over a parking spot for two years had just agreed to be my pretend boyfriend and deceive my entire family.
And that look in his eyes when he said yes…it wasn’t reluctant as I had expected.
It was hungry, but what for?