Chapter 39
Izzy
James collapses next to me on the couch. “Jesus, that feels good.”
“Want some punch?” I tuck my legs underneath me as I adjust my plaid velvet dress.
We’re the only ones in the living room right now, admiring the tree while Christmas music plays softly. Sebastian, Mom, and
Penny’s dad’s girlfriend are in the kitchen, working on our traditional breakfast-for-Christmas-Eve-dinner with Mia, Penny,
and Cooper to keep them company. Bex is napping—I don’t blame her one bit for taking advantage while there are plenty of babysitters
in the house—and last I checked, Dad was watching football with Penny’s dad, Larry, Coach Ryder. It’s an almost perfect Christmas
Eve, especially since I’m aunt to Charlotte Callahan, the cutest baby in the world. I’m glad I’m not the only December birthday
in the family anymore.
With Nik in the city for Christmas, however, it’s less sparkly than it could be.
When we finally got around to discussing the holiday, we decided it would be best to spend it with our respective families.
His grandfather expected his presence at his Christmas celebrations, and James and Bex were already coming with itty-bitty
baby Charlie, not to mention the fact that Cooper and Nik haven’t spoken since the beginning of the month. I should be enjoying
the break from school, and from thinking about my future in volleyball, but I’d rather be with Nik than alone here.
“Milk punch?” James asks.
I lift my glass. “Sebby’s special recipe.”
Instead of getting up for his own, he swipes mine and takes a sip.
“Hey,” I protest.
“I know my daughter is perfect”—he stops as I snort, raising his eyebrow—“but would it kill her to nap? Even a little?”
“I was a very fussy baby. Ask Mom about it.”
“That’s true,” Dad says as he walks into the room with Larry, a tray of sugar cookies in hand. James and Bex’s dog, Kiwi,
trots at his heels. Whenever they bring him over, he can’t get enough of Dad. “You screamed all hours of the night.”
“See?” I say, snatching back my punch.
“I’m not sure that’s the flex you think it is,” James says dryly. “Are those the cookies you made?”
I smile, sitting up straighter. “All by myself.”
“Let’s hope we don’t get food poisoning, then,” he says, eyeing them suspiciously.
I kick his leg. I’m not wearing shoes, so it’s not that effective, but still . I’m capable of handling a simple sugar cookie recipe. Kiwi begs for a cookie with his adorable brown eyes, but I just pat
his head.
“Penelope did that as well,” Larry says, giving us an amused look. “Kid had a set of lungs on her.”
“Something about daughters, perhaps,” Dad says, clapping his hand on James’s shoulder. “You’re doing a great job so far, son.”
James groans, tipping his head back, but he’s smiling. Despite the stress of having a new baby this late in the season, he’s
been ridiculously happy. Charlie came a few weeks ago, after a fortunate midweek labor that allowed him to be at Bex’s side
the whole time without compromising football. No one would have minded if they chose to have Christmas by themselves in Philadelphia,
but they didn’t want Charlie to miss even one holiday with her grandparents and newly minted uncles and aunt.
“How is Nikolai doing?” Larry asks me.
I snag a cookie, thinking about how to answer. He’s worried about the rift between him and Cooper, and I don’t blame him.
The hockey season has been on pause for the holidays, but that’s only going to last so long. Soon, they’ll be back on the
ice together, and if they’re at each other’s throat, that won’t keep their winning record going.
I have no idea what happened after they left the hospital. Later, I explained everything to Cooper, and apologized for keeping
it secret for so long, but still, he didn’t budge on telling me about the argument they had. Nik’s been just as tight-lipped
about it.
Both of them are being idiots. It’s not like I can talk, but still .
“Fine,” I say eventually. “He’s in Manhattan with his family.”
“They do need to hash this out,” Dad says. He drums his fingers on the arm of the couch. “They both care about you, darling.”
I make a face as I bite into the cookie. Not because of the cookie, although it definitely doesn’t come close to Sebastian’s.
Cooper and Nik were on the way to becoming good friends before everything happened, and I hate the thought of them losing
that forever. Especially if it’s because of me and my own stupidity.
“You’re sure he doesn’t want to come to Long Island?” James says. “Even for a little while?”
“He’s busy.”
“Busy, or avoiding Cooper?”
I stuff another cookie into my mouth. “I told Cooper I wanted them to make up for Christmas.”
“And what did he say?”
“He told me to talk to my boyfriend.”
“Why don’t you call him? Maybe he’ll want to come after all.”
I doubt it, but I guess it’s worth a shot. Christmas Eve is my favorite night of the year because of my family’s traditions,
yet if Nik had invited me to the city, I’d have said yes.
I slip into Dad’s office to make the call. There aren’t many hallmarks of the holiday in here; just a garland around his desk, courtesy of me, and a little ceramic tree next to the computer, courtesy of Mom. I perch on the edge of the couch, looking at the awards, the framed newspapers, the case with his three Super Bowl rings.
I’m fully aware of the differences between hockey and football—when Cooper was younger, he wanted nothing more than to rub
them in Dad’s face—but still, I know in my bones that one day Nik and my brother will hold up the Stanley Cup. I doubt it’ll
happen on the same team, but it’ll happen for them both somehow.
And I want them to be supportive of each other when it happens.
It felt so necessary to lie, not just to myself but to everyone around me. Now that the burden doesn’t exist anymore, I see
how heavily it was weighing on me. There’s still so much to talk about, not least Nik’s panic attacks, but at least this massive
secret isn’t lingering. I can call him without pretending he’s someone else.
I smile as soon as I hear his voice. “Hey. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.” I wonder if he needed to step away from the party to answer my call, or if he was already alone. I don’t
hear background noise, so I’m guessing the latter. “I’ve never gotten used to celebrating it so early.”
“Oh, right. Russian Orthodox Christmas is different.”
“Yeah. And the new year is a bigger deal anyway.”
“All the same, are you having fun?”
He laughs shortly. “Define ‘fun.’”
“That bad, huh?” I pick at a loose thread on my skirt, hesitating. It’s just a question, after all. It’s fine if he can’t
get away tonight. “If you want... you could come over. Dad and Larry were asking about you.”
“I don’t know.”
“Please? It’ll be fun. You might not get here in time for dinner, but we always play Monopoly after.”
“I don’t want to ruin anything.”
“You wouldn’t. Besides... you have to make up with Cooper eventually.”
“Isabelle,” he says, sighing.
“You do,” I say, stubbornly lifting my chin even though he can’t see me. “You’re not just teammates. You’re friends. I explained
everything to him.”
“Everything?”
“Not that. Of course not. But you didn’t force me to go to that party and get drunk, Nik. I made that choice all on my own.”
“Because I let you go.”
“I’m the one who ran. You didn’t have to follow me.”
“But I should have.”
“You could have.” I wish I made this a video call; I want to see his face. We’ve been dancing around this topic ever since the hospital,
and while we were busy with the end of the semester, it was easy to ignore it. “But I don’t blame you for not doing it, okay?
I could have stayed. I could have realized you were hurting and helped you instead of running away.”
I wish I had stayed. I wish I had never said that comment about his family. I wish so many things went differently that day,
even though I don’t regret the eventual outcome. I wouldn’t give up my new relationship with Nik for anything, but he’s hurting,
and I didn’t do a thing to ease that hurt. I just made it worse.
“I’m glad, where it led,” I add. “I’m glad to have you and I want you here with me for Christmas.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. “Okay, sunshine. Give me your parents’ address.”