6. Ethan
Ifind it difficult to sleep over the next few days, and I assume guilt is eating at me as I try to go about my day at the hardware store and seeing Violet.
It never occurred to me before the fake engagement how much time we already spend together, but now that we’re putting on a show, it’s important that we see each other every day. And I don’t mind it at all. She’s always been my rock and friend. Now that I’m at an impasse in my life, it’s nice to have her close.
Violet notices my appearance right away and makes a gentle jibe at me.
“Are you going to be able to go to the Winter Wonderland Festival this weekend?” she teases as we stroll through the park, cookies from Sweet Treats Bakery in hand. All around us, they’re setting up for the festivities tomorrow, and several of our friends and neighbors have come to watch. This part is almost as fun as the festival itself.
“What do you mean?” I ask, not understanding her question.
“You’ve got this whole zombie persona thing happening right now.”
Eying her, I take a dramatic bite of my cookie and gnaw at it like a monster, causing her fits of giggles as we pause by an unused wooden booth. There’s no one there now, but tomorrow, Mr. Jensen will fend off long lines of patrons eager to drink his hot cocoa like they do every year.
Someone from the town tested the ice on the pond to ensure it’s thick enough to withhold the ice skating, but the temperatures have dropped substantially over the past few days, freezing everything around us prettily.
“Seriously, are you okay?” Violet presses. “You look exhausted.”
I force a smile and nod, stuffing the rest of the cookie in my mouth to keep myself from lying. I’m tired of lying. Maybe that’s why I look so exhausted.
She places a hand on my arm, and an unexpected shiver runs through me. “We don’t have to come tomorrow night,” she suggests. “I mean, I think everyone believes we’re engaged now. There’s no need to keep up with the fa?ade.”
I turn to her, swallowing the bite in my mouth. “And what if I want to bring you to my favorite function of the year?” I ask.
Her face softens. “Well, then I can’t really refuse that, can I?”
“I’m fine,” I promise her. “I haven’t been sleeping well.”
Concern colors her pretty face, and I realize her hand is still on my arm. “Why not? What’s going on?”
I shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t think I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“What’s stopping you?” she presses.
“Hi, guys!” Our conversation is cut short as a cheerful voice calls out to us from across the park, and Addison strolls toward us, holding her small daughter’s hand. Violet’s fingers trail off my arm as we face the waitress from the Maple Leaf Diner with a warm grin.
“Hey, Addy,” Violet calls back, kneeling to greet Addison’s child, but the little girl has already untangled herself from her mother to scamper off and look at the pine tree in the center of the park.
“Stay away from the pond,” Addison warns her daughter, but the child is already gone, darting toward the tree.
“She’s getting big,” Violet comments, shaking her head. “I feel like she was just born yesterday.”
Addison maintains her smile, but I see the flicker of worry and sadness in her eyes as she watches her child. “Hey, congratulations, you two! I’m so happy for you!”
Violet and I exchange a look. “Thanks,” I mumble.
“I’m a little surprised, though,” Addison continues, oblivious to the rising tension. “I always thought of you two as besties.”
“We are,” Violet concedes quickly. “But that’s what makes the best relationships. You should have a solid foundation first.”
Addison grimaces. “I wouldn’t know. My relationships have always been utter failures.” Her daughter disappears around the backside of the tree, and Addison exhales. “I should go find her before she runs off with the elves,” she mutters. “Come by the diner so I can get you an engagement dessert—on the house!”
She waves goodbye and is gone, leaving us to wander through the park again as the afternoon sun slips behind the mountain range in the distance.
“Do you really believe that?” I ask after a moment of silence. Violet glances at me, crumpling up the paper from her cookie and tossing it in the nearby wastebasket.
“What?”
“That you have to be friends first to have a good relationship?”
She shrugs and laughs. “You’re asking me? I haven’t had a good relationship with anyone but you in my whole life. Not even my mother wants me.”
Compassion springs through me, and I stop, putting my hands on her shoulders. “Your mom has her own issues that have nothing to do with you. If she can’t see how incredible you are, that’s her problem, not yours.”
Violet lowers her eyes, but I prop her chin upward, forcing her to look at me. “Repeat after me,” I urge her. “I am incredible.”
“Ethan…”
“Say it! Say it, or I’m not buying you hot chocolate tomorrow,” I threaten.
“I can buy my own hot chocolate.”
“Say it,” I demand.
“I’m incredible,” she mumbles, her cheeks reddening.
“Never forget that. I’m lucky to have you in my life,” I tell her huskily, my pulse quickening. Suddenly, I’m overcome with emotions for her, our eyes locking.
What is going on?
I drop my hand quickly, nervousness encompassing me. “I want to open a Christmas tree farm,” I blurt out. The words come from absolutely nowhere, my embarrassment at the moment guiding me.
“Uh… what?” Violet is just as confused as she should be. “You what?”
I cast her a sidelong look and start walking, trying to shake off the newfound feelings I feel burning inside me for my long-time friend.
“That’s what I’ve been saving up for,” I admit. “It’s been something I’ve wanted to do for a while now. You know Christmas is my favorite holiday… But it’s more than that. I don’t want to be stuck indoors all day, taking inventory. I want to be outdoors with nature. I know it’s stupid?—”
Violet stops me. “Ethan, that’s amazing!” she gushes, the genuine joy in her voice giving me hope. “Why have you been so reluctant to tell me that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. It sounds so… cheesy to say aloud.”
“Not at all!” she counters. “In fact, I think it’s exactly what Spruce Crossing needs!”
I nod. “I think so, too.”
“So what’s stopping you?” she demands. “Spruce Crossing loves Christmas, and you could probably get traction from all over Pine Tree County, depending on where it’s located.”
“You know what’s stopping me,” I sigh. “How can I tell my parents?”
She falls silent as we walk, heading back toward the parking lot where my vehicle is parked.
“Maybe you’re overthinking this,” she offers slowly.
“I really don’t think I am,” I argue. “Dad is going to say if I can run a Christmas tree farm, I can run the store.”
“It’s not a matter of ‘can’ but ‘want,’” Violet reminds me. “You’re not responsible for your dad’s business.”
“Then why do I feel like I am?” I groan.
Violet has no response to that, but she links her arm comfortingly through mine as darkness fully blankets the park.
“I can help you if you’re ready to take that leap of faith,” she offers when we get into my vehicle.
“You’re already helping me,” I tell her, starting the Durango and blasting the heat.
“No,” she counters. “I’m lying for you—and I don’t even know to what end. Sooner or later, we’re going to have to tell your parents that we’re not a real item, Ethan.”
Her words make my stomach tighten.
“Can we just enjoy the weekend?” I beg her. “Let’s hold off on making things right with my parents until Monday, okay?”
“Whatever you want to do,” she agrees sweetly, and I sneak another look at her through my peripheral vision. In the pale light of the mounting moon, her complexion is flawless, her eyes guileless. For the second time today, I get the insurmountable urge to kiss her, but she turns her head away.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, sensing her mood shift. She’s fiddling with her ring, her gloves in her lap now.
“I hate lying to your parents,” she answers bluntly. For a long moment, I stare at her, choking back the words that keep bubbling to the surface.
What if we’re not lying to them? What if we can make this work?