Two
1153 Words
Chapter Two
Six years later
“The Christmas party is in eight days. Crap! I haven’t bought anything yet. Max, can I borrow your credit card!” I yell. “I have to go shopping early or I’ll miss the sales.”
“What sales?” Max’s grumpy tone floated in.
“The holiday deals, silly,” I said with an eye roll.
“Not my problem,” he shot back, his own eye roll giving his dancing blue eyes a flare of mischief.
I had always been jealous of his full dark lashes. His messy blond hair looked like it had lost a fight with his bed.
“Can’t you help your sister this one time, please?”
His entire 6’1 frame towered over me as he placed his empty mug by the counter.
“Sorry, no can do. Not giving away my money over your dumb Christmas party to impress your imaginary boyfriend.”
“Jeez, this isn’t about Chase. We both know there’s no boyfriend. Besides, I haven’t been interested in any man since him. The office decided on this secret Santa concept. I can’t show up without a present. Just help me this time, I’ll pay you once I get paid by the end of the week.”
“Whatever.”
“Thank you! What would I do without you?” I called to his retreating back, grinning at my small victory.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I made it to his bedroom before he did. I opened his wardrobe and reached for his wallet.
“Hey,” he called, strolling in behind me. “I didn’t even tell you where my stuff was.”
“You don’t have to. Your stuff is my stuff as well, duh…..found it,” I mumbled as I opened his brown wallet stuffed with bills now in my hands.
“Hey, you really going to that party?”
I paused, knowing where he was heading.
“Yeah, I am.”
His tone softened.
“Don’t take it the wrong way. I’m just concerned. You’ve hated Christmas ever since our parents passed away.”
My shoulders went limp.
“I know. That’s why I’m trying to live for myself. I’m older now, plus I’ve got you… Cash will do, thanks.” I hurriedly left Max’s room before he said anything else that could make the sad memories rise.
Nothing was wrong with me for wanting to attend a Christmas dinner party for the first time in four years. Even though everything in me kicked against it, I wanted to believe it was reasonable to make a conscious effort to grow past it all and embrace the pain. Yes, Mother loved the Christmas decorations, Thanksgiving dinner, and usual traditions, but ever since her passing, I couldn’t stand any of it. If it were last year’s me, I would have made up an excuse just to be locked in my room or rather have the earth open up and swallow me than show up to a Christmas party. The very event that caused me great loss.
I picked the shawl off the table, wrapped it around my neck, slid my feet into my winter boots, and headed out into the cold.
“I prefer a family and friends setting, quiet and private,” I inwardly rehearsed, preparing how I could politely turn down any private invites and avoid prying questions from curious acquaintances.
The store was alive with Christmas chaos. Bright lights blinked from every corner, carols played overhead, and the smell of baked goods drifted from the bakery section. Children tugged at their parents’ coats, pointing at toys stacked high on shelves. Couples laughed as they compared ornaments, their voices warm and easy.
The gift baskets near the entrance made me rethink my decision. “Oh Lisa, do you really want to do this gift exchange?” I bit my lip as I moved forward, scanning other sections.
The frozen foods aisle pulled me in. Rows of turkeys stared back at me, their glossy packaging reflecting the fluorescent lights. I wasn’t the only one who suffered during this season, Max did too but he held up better than myself. Should I go all out and prepare turkey? Was I truly up for that? My feet carried me to the cosmetics section.
I was secret Santa to a guy. What could I possibly get a man? “Ugh, I should have asked Max before I left the house.”
I spotted a*****e clerk arranging shelves. “Hello, I’m trying to get a present for a colleague. A male colleague. What would be ideal?”
She glanced at me, her brow raised. “Alright, ma’am. Not a possible romantic interest?”
“No, not at all!” I blurted, too quickly.
Her look lingered, unreadable. “Sure. Household items like cookware could serve. Socks, maybe, but that’s too personal.”
“A Christmas hat, perhaps?” I chipped in with a grin.
She gave me a flat stare, then walked away without another word.
Heat flushed my cheeks. “Whoopsie,” I muttered, flexing my mouth muscles to shake off the awkwardness.
I turned sharply into the next aisle, determined to find something myself. My eyes landed on a sleek travel mug, stainless steel, polished under the store lights. Practical, safe, not too personal. I picked it up, weighing it in my hand, It felt right.
At the checkout, chatter buzzed around me. Two women ahead whispered, their voices sharp with excitement.
“Did you hear? Another young CEO is in trouble again. Apparently shady dealings, you know the usual story.”
“What is it with these companies even? Are people still making earnest living at this point.?”
“It’s common amongst the rich. Their family sets them up so well, it is easier for them to succeed unlike the rest of us.”
I tuned out of their conversation. I barely knew who they were talking about and it was none of my business. My mind on the party, the gift— thankfully I had picked a wrap, I intended to wrap it myself when I got home. I grabbed a few chocolates for Max— he loved them.
I paid, collected my bag containing the items, and stepped into the cold night. The air bit at my cheeks, but I pulled my shawl tighter. Just ahead, a family spilled out of the store, parents laughing, their little girl tugging at a bag of ornaments, her brother clutching a box of cookies. Their joy was simple, unguarded, the kind of Christmas warmth I hadn’t felt in years.
My chest tightened. For a moment, I saw my mother’s smile, the glow of our living room, the way she fussed over decorations. The ache was sharp, but instead of turning away, I let it linger.
I’ll face it this year. No more hiding.
- Writer
