Chapter 17 #2
“Excuse me?” he asks. “Don’t touch her like that? Want to explain to me why he feels like he can speak to me in such a way?” Uncle Dwight asks.
“Dwight, I think . . . I think you should lower your voice,” Storee suggests.
“Don’t tell me what to do.” He then whips me around to face him. “What are you doing? Why is he touching you like that?”
“I . . . um.” I’m tongue-tied, unable to answer.
He leans back, his eyes searching mine, and then he starts shaking his head. “No, no, Betty. Please don’t tell me you like him.”
Guilt once again consumes me.
“I . . . I don’t . . . I don’t know.”
It’s a lie. I do know, but I can’t get myself to say it out loud.
“You realize what he’s doing, right?” Uncle Dwight gestures to Atlas. “He’s acting like he’s interested to deter you from putting him out of business, because he’s desperate and he knows that’s what we can do. So he’s resorted to this.”
“Dwight, I really don’t think this is the place—” Storee starts, but Uncle Dwight ignores her.
“He’s horrible,” he continues. “The things he’s done to me.”
“Dwight, come on,” Atlas says, causing Uncle Dwight to eye him angrily.
“Tormented me in high school because I was different.”
“What are you talking about?” Atlas asks.
“You’ve seen it around town,” Uncle Dwight continues. “The way everyone seems to like him, but no one likes me. He’s been a master of manipulation since high school, and now he’s turned you against me.”
“No, that’s not what’s happening,” I say.
“It’s not?” he asks. “So you’re just over here, letting him touch you because . . .”
I bite on my bottom lip, because I really have no answer to that.
“I see. Well, I heard rumblings that people have seen you two together, but I didn’t think much of it.
I thought they were talking about you being at the farm, but now I know.
” He nods and lets go of my arm. “Well, let me leave you with this.” He blows out a heavy breath.
“Remember when my girlfriend in high school was fighting cancer?”
I nod. It was a terrible thing. The whole family knew about it because we donated and raised funds for her cancer treatments, but sadly, she lost the battle.
“I made a wish that Christmas,” he continues. “I made a wish on the Ornament Park tree with a very special, near and dear to me ornament. I wished for her to battle, to fight.” I see tears start to well in his eyes. “And when I went to go look for it the next day . . . it was missing.”
I gasp, my heart pounding a mile a minute.
No.
There’s no way.
Atlas wouldn’t do that.
Uncle Dwight looks Atlas in the eyes. “I later found out it was Maxheimer who took it down.” He wets his lips. “Jessica passed a few days after Christmas.”
“Oh my God,” I say as I turn to Atlas. “That’s . . . that’s horrible.”
“And the only reason why he’s talking to you, why he’s trying to get on your good side is to not only save his farm but to try to take you away from me as well.
When you first got here, I told him to stay away from you.
I told him to not even look in your direction, and he took that as a challenge. ”
“Dwight, that’s—”
“Don’t,” I say, backing away. “Please don’t say anything.”
“Betty,” Storee says, looking confused. “Atlas wouldn’t do that.”
“How do you know?” Uncle Dwight says. “You’ve only been around a few years, but you saw the Christmas Kringle competition last year, how he got everyone to turn against me.
The entire town doesn’t like me, and it’s all because of his manipulation.
” He shakes his head. “I’ve always been different from you, Maxheimer.
Shorter, weaker, not as talented or well-connected, but I’ll be damned if you try to take Betty away.
Your little game is over. The challenge is over. Leave her alone.”
And with that, he turns away and starts heading toward the exit.
Not even thinking about it twice, I leave my coffee cake and drink on the table and chase after my uncle until I reach him just outside the coffee shop. “Wait,” I say, tugging on his arm.
“How could you do that to me?” he says, looking so disappointed. Angry. “How could you . . . embarrass me like that?”
“I wasn’t . . . I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“The entire town is probably laughing at the fact that my own family member would rather hang out with a Maxheimer than me. Is that why you kept canceling? To hang out with him?”
“No,” I say out of desperation. “No, I’ve just been . . . I’ve been confused.”
“Because he’s preyed on you.”
“He didn’t prey—”
“Let me ask you this,” he says. “Didn’t he try to break into your place? Then he chased you down at the farm. There was hostility between the two of you, right?”
“Yes,” I say, feeling skeptical.
“And then he just started . . . being nice to you out of nowhere?”
I pause, thinking about it, trying to recall the moment when the switch flipped. He tried to bring me that popcorn, and then I was supposed to be hanging out with Storee, and he was there . . .
“I can see the wheels starting to turn in your head. This is all part of his manipulation, Betty. He’s done it for years, but I’m the only one who calls him out on it.
The reason he has this entire town eating out of his palm is because he’s been able to manipulate their opinion, just like he did with you.
He’s not a good person. I’ve told you that from the beginning, and you chose not to listen. ”
“I just . . . I got confused,” I say, feeling incredibly stupid. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’m ashamed to say that I felt like I was maybe helping in a way.”
“Helping?” he asks. “How would cuddling up to Maxheimer be helping?”
“I . . . I thought that maybe we could come up with another idea,” I say, feeling really ignorant and guilty. “An idea that the entire town could get behind. You know, so we had support.”
“Did he suggest that?”
“No.” I shake my head. “We haven’t really talked about the plans—”
Uncle Dwight grows closer. “How often do you talk?”
I bite on the corner of my lip, knowing he won’t like the answer. “I don’t know, a few times a week.”
“What?” His eyes go wide. “Jesus Christ, Betty.” He takes a step back.
“You’ve been talking to him a few times a week?
Just letting him play you like that?” He lets out a disappointed sigh.
“He deliberately took away my wish. He knew how important that was to me, and he took it away. I don’t blame him for her death, but I blame him for diminishing my hope. ”
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
He looks away. “I was searching for you because I have to head out of town for a week. I have to attend an end-of-the-year business conference in Aspen.”
“Okay, do you . . . do you need anything from me?”
He shakes his head. “No . . . just . . . just don’t let him fool you, Betty. He’s only going to hurt you in the long run like he’s hurt me.” Then with that, he takes off.
I turn around, not sure what to do now, and spot Atlas standing inside the doorway. Part of me wants to go straight to him and be held in his enormous arms. But then I think about Uncle Dwight’s words.
Let me ask you this. Didn’t he try to break into your place? Then he chased you down at the farm. There was hostility between the two of you, right? And then he just started . . . being nice to you out of nowhere?
I don’t know who you are, Atlas Maxheimer.
I wouldn’t mind sitting on Old Krampus’s lap and telling him I’d like a beautiful blonde with bright blue eyes to be set under my Christmas tree.
Did you mean that? Or are you capable of lying so masterfully that you even have your best friend’s wife convinced?
I can’t face him right now, so I turn on my heel and head back to my car.