Chapter Eighteen
It had started snowing Christmas Eve morning, and by the time games night rolled around, it was still going strong. I pulled open the door of my apartment building and stepped out into a snow drift that had piled up against it, gasping when a chunk of snow tipped into my knee-high boots and slid down my leg.
“Why do I live here?” I muttered as I kicked my way through the drifts to the parking lot. Or, at least, I thought it was the parking lot. I couldn’t tell because all the cars were covered in about four feet of snow. There was no way I was getting my car out without a bulldozer. I didn’t even own a shovel.
“For shit’s sake,” I said out loud and pulled my phone from my purse.
Can you pick me up?I texted Luke. By the looks of things, my car isn’t coming out of hibernation until summer.
Luke had a garage and, presumably, a shovel, so I knew he wouldn’t be having the same issue as me.
Bet you wish you’d gotten snow tires like I suggested, he texted back.
Snow tires wouldn’t help this situation. I can’t even see my tires.
On my way.
I trudged back to the front of the building so I could wait in the warm lobby. When his large silver Chevy truck (with snow tires) pulled up, it looked like it could cut through a mountain. I knew I had made the right decision.
He hopped down from the driver’s side and came over to help me carry my bag of snacks and non-alcoholic beverages. After he set it in the backseat, he opened my door for me like a gentleman.
“Well, how chivalrous.” I fanned my face with my hand. “You’re going to make me blush, kind sir.”
He bowed. “M’lady,” he said, which earned him a laugh. “I know you sometimes need a boost. And you’ve got some very inappropriately high heels on those boots. I didn’t want you to fall on your face on Christmas Eve.”
“Thanks,” I said when I was all settled and he had jumped back into the driver’s seat.
“Of course,” he said. “So, what games did you bring?”
“I don’t like games, so none. I don’t own any.”
“I’m sorry, what?” He turned to me, an astonished look on his face.
“Eyes on the road, please!” I yelled as he swerved out of, and then back into, a well-formed snow rut.
“You don’t like games?” he asked like I’d just told him I didn’t like breathing.
I groaned like I’d heard this a hundred times. (I had.) “I don’t like games. I know, ‘who doesn’t like games?’” I mocked. “Me, I don’t like games.”
“Why? Games are fun. Is that why you didn’t know what you liked to do for fun? Because you don’t actually like fun?” he asked, trying to both keep his eyes on the road and let me know how utterly bewildered he was by gesturing wildly. “I can’t believe I didn’t know this. I was going to take you to a games cafe for our next meeting.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re learning this now because I wouldn’t have liked it.” I dodged one of his flailing arms. “Take your next right.”
He turned down the street, his giant tires cutting through the snow like it was cotton candy. “And yet….” he trailed off.
“And yet?”
“And yet, we’re on our way to a games night.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Please explain.”
He pulled over in front of Kate and Ben’s new place and turned towards me, giving me his full attention.
I thumped my head back against the seat. “It’s not a big deal. When Ben and I were kids, we always had Christmas Eve games night with our parents. As you know, our mom and dad weren’t the kind of parents who spent every second of their lives entertaining their children, so it was always something we looked forward to—spending time together as a family, drinking hot chocolate and listening to Christmas carols. It was basically the beginning of every Hallmark Christmas movie. Honestly, I used to love games, just for that reason.”
“Wait.” He held up his hand. “You watch Hallmark Christmas movies?”
“Not relevant to the story.”
“Fine.” He laughed. “Please continue.”
I cleared my throat. “The guy I told you about—Todd—he liked games nights. We would go over to his friend’s place or, more often, we would host.” I twirled a strand of hair around my finger absently. “Now, to be clear, the games I used to like, the games my family used to play, were fun. Games like Trivial Pursuit, or Pictionary or Monopoly, ones that didn’t take a lot of strategy; where you could still laugh and talk and enjoy yourself, you know?”
Luke nodded.
“Todd and his friends liked strategy games. Like Risk and Settlers of Catan. I am not good at those kinds of games. I’m not even adequate. I don’t know what it is, but my brain doesn’t work like that. I can remember who pitched for the Yankees in 1992, and I can draw a mean ‘We wish you a merry Christmas,’ but I cannot strategically conquer anything to save my life.”
“So it wasn’t fun for you because you weren’t very good?”
I looked down. “No. I don’t care if I’m not good at something. I can still have fun. You’ve heard me sing along to songs on the radio.”
He laughed. “Fair point.”
“It wasn’t fun because Todd was very competitive. And he wouldn’t accept that I wasn’t good at them. We were often partners, and when I made a move he didn’t agree with, or if I asked questions, he would get frustrated.
“At the beginning he would laugh it off, but by the end of the night he would be angry, often saying things about me and my intelligence level that…well, they weren’t very kind.” My voice cracked and I swallowed hard. I hadn’t talked about this in so long I’d failed to realize how much it still affected me.
Luke gently put his hand on my leg. “Like, in front of people? He would belittle you in front of people?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Trying to keep my emotions buried where they belonged. But also, strangely, wondering why my leg was tingling where it met with Luke’s palm.
He shook his head. “Man, this guy.” His hand closed into a fist, leaving a warm spot on my thigh. “No wonder you don’t like games. What a jerk.” His face had contorted into what I’m sure was supposed to be a scowl but on Luke’s face still looked pretty pleasant.
“Yeah, so, that’s why I don’t like games,” I said in a tone that made it clear that the story was over, hastily undoing my seatbelt, ready to remove myself from this bubble of vulnerability.
“And you still come to Christmas Eve games night…” he started.
“…because of Ben. He loves it and it would break his heart if I stopped coming.” I glanced at Luke, who was still strapped into his seatbelt, unmoving.
“What are you thinking?” I asked, hoping I hadn’t upset him again.
Luke finally undid his seatbelt and opened the door. “That I’d really like to find this Todd guy and punch him in the throat, but that’s not very Christmassy so I was going to keep it to myself.”
A warm glow surrounded me as Luke closed the truck door and stepped in front to tread a path for me through the snow. I hadn’t expected him to be so angry on my behalf. Was it weird that I liked it?
We walked up the steps to the house and the door flew open, slamming against the outside wall.
“What the hell?” I turned just as Luke pulled me back so I didn’t get knocked unconscious.
“Julesie, oh my God,” Marnie slurred as she stepped out into the snow in her bare feet. Her phone, always in hand, slipped out of her grasp and fell to the ground. “I’m so excited to hang out with you tonight!”
“Julesie?” Luke mouthed and I shrugged, picking up her phone and wiping off the snow with my mitts.
Now, I’m obviously not one to judge someone who has dipped into the sauce a bit too aggressively, but holy crap, was I ever this ridiculous? The spaghetti straps of her (actually quite adorable) red slip dress slid down her bare, goosebump-covered arms as she tugged on the elastic waistband of her sparkly black tights. I reached up and pulled a piece of tape off what appeared to be a piece of Christmas garland she had wrapped around her neck.
Her petite frame was gently swaying back and forth as if dancing to a playlist that only she could hear and her half-closed eyes were focused on my face, waiting for me to respond before she moved aside to let us in.
“Yeah, me too,” I said, knowing from experience that drunks often aren’t able to pick up on sarcasm.
She stepped aside and let us into the house, the warmth so comforting that I actually sighed with contentment. I took off my puffy coat and hung it on a wooden hook, smoothing my hands over my newly purchased cream-coloured sweater dress. I might not have looked as young and sultry as Marnie, but I was comfortable and cozy and, lately, that was all that really mattered to me.
Marnie squealed. “OMG, I love your dress! You look amazing.” She put her hand on my shoulder, leaned in and loudly whispered, “Kate told me you were having problems finding something that fit. I’m so glad you did.”
I moved back and wiped her saliva from my cheek, a poke of irritation jabbing my stomach. “Thanks. Me too.”
“Oh my God, we have to take a selfie!” she trilled, looking around for her phone. I handed it to her and she held it up at the perfect angle and posed, red lips pursed, blue eyes shining, not noticing that half my head was cut out of the shot.
“And who’s this hottie?” She looked at Luke like she’d just noticed him, eyelashes lowered, hand out like she was waiting for him to kiss it. “I’m Marnie.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Luke.” He took her hand and lightly shook it, pleasant as always.
She leaned in and looked up, her chin almost touching his chest. “Do you have a girlfriend, Luke?”
“How do you know I’m not his girlfriend?” I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrow. I mean, obviously I wasn’t, but wasn’t she being a bit presumptuous?
“Pfft, you never have a boyfriend.” She looked at Luke and shook her head, her thick hair brushing across her shoulders. “She never has a boyfriend.”
I laughed, pretending that what she’d said hadn’t stung. By choice, Marnie, I thought.
“Well?” She stared at Luke, waiting.
Luke looked at me and then back at her, discomfort creeping into his normally relaxed features. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Let’s be game partners then!” she screamed. “Come on, it’ll be so fun. You drink, right? Just because Julie’s boring doesn’t mean you can’t have fun.”
“We’re actually—” I started and then saw Luke’s face. He was smiling. He actually looked charmed. And honestly? Who wouldn’t be. Just because I disliked Marnie didn’t mean everyone had to. She was youthful and beautiful and bubbly. A tiny package of fun. And she knew exactly how to hold a man’s attention. Something we used to have in common.
“You’re actually what?” Marnie pulled on Luke’s arm and he turned to me, eyes questioning.
I knew if I said we were supposed to be game partners that he’d decline her request. But who was I to decide for him? He very well might have more fun with her. He was a great guy; he deserved a woman’s attention. Maybe Marnie would be his perfect teammate.
“We were actually just talking about that in the truck,” I lied. “Seeing as we’re such good friends we thought it would probably be unfair to be on the same team because we know each other so well. Of course you should be partners.”
Something flickered across Luke’s face. Disappointment maybe? I was probably imagining it. His eyes met mine, searching. I smiled again and nodded as Marnie pulled him into the kitchen and I followed, trying to look happy, trying to remember this night wasn’t for me.
“Hey Jules.” Ben got up from his place at the kitchen table and wrapped me in a hug. “Merry Christmas.” I held him tight, comforted by his strength. He had come so far in the past couple of years. Since he and Kate had gotten together, he had grown from a quiet man—always standing off on the sidelines, waiting for joy to find him—to a man from whom joy radiated on an almost continual basis. Tears of pride filled my eyes.
He pulled back, his smile turning to concern. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you want to go talk?” And then, quieter. “Did you…?”
I shook my head. “Don’t worry; I didn’t fall off the wagon. It’s just the holidays, you know? I get emotional.”
“No, you don’t.” His eyebrow rose accusingly.
“Well, I do now, okay?”
His dubious expression dissolved into a grin as Kate walked into the room, joined by a tall, friendly looking woman with a warm smile. Her dirty-blonde hair was tied back with a festive Christmas ribbon that matched the ribbon tied around the black puppy on her brightly coloured Christmas sweater. If she was indeed older than us, she sure didn’t look it. Rather than pushing fifty like Ben had said, I would have guessed late thirties.
“Julie, you’re here!” Kate bounced up to me and wrapped her arms around my neck in a fake-out hug so she could whisper in my ear, “I’m sorry about Marnie, she was half-trashed when she got here.” She pulled away and gestured to the woman she’d entered the kitchen with. “This is Sherri; I’ve been giving her the tour of our new place.”
I leaned forward and stuck out my hand. “I’m—”
“Julie of course,” she said as she pulled me in for a hug instead. “I’ve heard so much about you, I feel like I’ve known you as long as I’ve known Ben.”
“Oh,” I said into her shoulder, not sure what that meant. Had Ben told her why he’d left university so early? I pulled away and forced a smile. “I’m glad we finally get to meet in person.”
“You look gorgeous,” Kate whispered as she linked her arm through mine. “I always look like a scrub compared to you.”
“Untrue, you look great!” I exclaimed, slightly annoyed. For as long as I could remember, Kate had always played the role of “less attractive best friend,” and while I used to be flattered, it had recently started to bother me. I now wanted to be more than someone’s pretty friend. Especially considering, now that my confidence wasn’t amplified by booze, I was finding it increasingly difficult to see myself that way.
“Enough with the hugs already!” Marnie yelled from the table. “Let’s play some games!”
And so we played games. I was paired with Sherri, who was better than me at drawing, but I carried the team during Trivial Pursuit. We would have won if Ben wasn’t a genius. Luke could also hold his own, but Marnie kept yelling things out before he had a chance to answer, and while she might have been cute, she definitely was not the smartest person in the room.
After they were asked the question, “Which famous spouse was wrongly credited with breaking up the Fab Four?” she jumped up and yelled, “Taylor Swift!” Luke quit trying and decided to just enjoy the show.
I found it fascinating that, regardless of how badly they were losing, he still seemed to be having fun. No matter what happened, no matter what ridiculous thing burst from Marnie’s mouth, he didn’t stop laughing, his smile so bright it lit up the room.
And because he was having so much fun I started having fun too. I forgot how miserable I used to feel when I got things wrong. Luke took losing so well and had such a good time doing it that everyone else had fun watching him. His absolute joy at everything that happened was contagious. Even when my answers were incorrect—dread creeping in, embarrassment flushing my face—all I had to do was look his way and he would throw me a wink and a smile; the warmth in his expression instantly evaporating my self-doubt. I hadn’t had so much fun playing games since I was a kid.
And then we were done. And things were wrapping up. And Sherri was asking for her coat.
“See you tomorrow,” I said to Ben after giving him a tight goodbye hug. We may not have done much else as a family anymore, but we still met at our parents’ place every Christmas morning to open gifts. And it was still something I very much looked forward to.
Luke and Marnie were in the living room, her head resting on his shoulder, her eyes fluttering as she tried to stay awake. My chest tightened with an unexpected twinge of jealousy.
Why wasn’t I the one sitting there, my head on his shoulder, winding down? Why hadn’t I fought harder to be his partner? What had I been afraid of?
The longer I watched them softly talking the lonelier I felt. The more I thought about how much fun Luke had been having the more I wished he had been having that much fun with me. I felt like I’d lost a connection Marnie had gained. Because they did look like they had a connection. And if that was the case, shouldn’t I have been happy for Luke? Shouldn’t I have felt something other than disappointed?
I sighed and turned away, not wanting to intrude. What was wrong with me? It was almost like I’d lost something. Like something inside me was missing. But how could I be missing something that I’d never had in the first place?