calls or texts. Meanwhile, I was endlessly stewing everything over in my head about what to do with the article. I knew if I could just talk to him...we could figure something out together. But apparently that was the one thing I couldn’t do.
When I felt overwhelmed with problems, long before I ever knew the comfort of Chris’s arms existed, there was one place I could always go to feel better. I called a cab across town to my parents’ house and was relieved to see their cars in the driveway. Payton’s car was there too, which only made it better. I needed my mom and sister to talk through this with me until I heard from Chris.
I used my key to let myself in and was surprised to see everyone already gathered at the kitchen table. “Oh, hey. Everyone’s here. Good,” I murmured, marching into to plop down next to them. “I’m having one hell of a day.”
“Oh no, dear. I’m sorry. Well, you can tell us all about it,” my mom smiled awkwardly, jumping up from the table. “Let me get you something. Hot cocoa? Juice?”
“Dad’s bourbon,” I groaned.
“Coming right up!” she sang, flitting over to the liquor cabinet.
I noticed immediately that something was off. Everyone had weird smiles plastered on their faces and were staring at me with a certain kind of fear in their eyes.
“What’s going on?” I asked in alarm.
“Nothing!” Payton smiled wider. “Nothing at all!”
Dad slid his hand across the table to hold mine. “What happened, sweetie? Why was it such a bad day?”
I knew they were all being way too nice, but I was also too flustered to care about whatever other weirdness they had going on.
“It’s this article about Chris and the annual display,” I explained. “My editors want me to go ahead with the original piece I wrote, which wasn’t very nice...at all. And apparently everyone is publishing all this awful gossip about him and the company now. So we have to put out something, and it can’t be the positive article I was working so hard to rewrite. I don’t know what to do. I want to be honest...but I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Oh honey, that’s terrible,” my mom cooed, delivering the glass of liquor I requested. “And Chris seems like such a nice man once you get to know him. What a shame that everyone is attacking him.”
“Yeah. He’s a cool dude,” Payton agreed. “I’m sure it will all work out though! You’ll figure out the right thing to do. You always do! Isn’t that right Dad?”
“Of course!” he answered enthusiastically. A little too enthusiastically. “There hasn’t been a bad day yet you haven’t survived. And if anyone knows how to come up with the perfect solution for something, it’s you. I know that much.”
Payton and my mom started nodding in agreement like crazy, and suddenly I felt less passive about the vibe in the room. “What’s going on here? Why are you all acting so weird?”
“Us? Weird?” Mom blushed and laughed. “No, never. Especially not right now. We’ve just had one too many Christmas cookies or something. I’m always telling you that sugar can really do a number on you!”
“Yes, way too many cookies. But everything’s fine! Totally one hundred percent fine!” Payton insisted.
I watched them all staring back at me, looking even crazier than they did a minute ago. “Why am I suddenly having flashbacks of that time everyone sat me down to tell me the cat ran out in the street…” I braced myself against the table, realizing something bad was about to happen.
“Well...there is just one tiny little thing we need to tell you,” Mom said slowly, like she was handling a ticking time bomb. “But maybe now isn’t the best time with everything else that’s happened.”
“When the hell else would we tell her?” Payton snapped. “Christmas Eve is the day after tomorrow!”
“Okay, you’re all really starting to freak me out now,” I fretted. “What’s going on!?”
Mom reached out for my hand and squeezed it tight. “Oh honey...it’s just that...well, we know how important our family Christmases are to you. But...as it turns out...we might be doing things a little different this year.”
“What do you mean...different?”
“Different as in...huh, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just spit it out. Different as in your father and I...We won’t be here.”
“What!?” I shrieked.
“One of my clients gave us tickets for a free trip up into Canada!” Dad interjected quickly, trying to circumvent my freak