Our Totally, Ridiculous, Made-Up Christmas Relationship

by Brittainy C. Cherry

  “What’s the deal with you and Landon anyway?” Sally asks. It’s a question filled with too many explanations. I shrug it off, blow a cloud smoke into the chilled air, and laugh when I see Sally try to catch the smoke in her mouth.

  “Your mom’s so happy you’re here,” she smiles and stares out into the backyard, noticing the absurd Christmas lights, yet she doesn’t mention it. “She worries you know, about how you’re doing. She wonders if you’re all right.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you, though? Are you all right, kiddo?”

  Another shrug. I’m not sure if I know what being ‘all right’ means. I turned twenty-seven a few months ago and drive a car my dad paid for, live in an apartment he pays half the rent for, and bartend to pay the other half. No matter how much I’ve tried to get myself out there in the world of acting, I haven’t caught a break here in Chicago. How do you even start building a résumé if the only way to get a part is based on your nonexistent résumé?

  “I’m good.”

  She smiles and lays her head on my shoulder. “For an actor you’re a shitty liar. Oh P.S., guess who picked you for secret Santa.” Sally reaches into her coat pocket and hands me a piece of paper. “I know it’s early and way less than five dollars, but fuck it. You know how I feel about rules and shit.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I open up the folded paper, and am taken back. My eyes shoot back to my aunt and she’s still smiling. “You kidding me?”

  “Merry Christmas, buddy.”

  The paper holds the name of a lady I’m supposed to meet tomorrow at one in the afternoon for a chance to sign with their acting agency. Not just any agency, but Walter and Jack’s Talent Agency, one of the top agencies in the city. I look at Sally, no words coming to mind. My body reacts to the letter though; my hands become shaky and my feet begin tapping against the step. Running my hand across my face, trying to bite back the tears, I release a deep-gutted sigh.

  “How? What…? Sally, you don’t know what this means to me.”

  She leans in and smiles. “I do. But don’t thank me. It was actually your mom who got in touch with Stacey, who goes to the same church as we do. She’s the one you’re meeting with. Your mom fed her your sob story and she fell for it. Stacey’s also all kinds of pregnant and hormonal, so I’m sure that helped the cause.”

  `”Mom did this?” I hold the paper, shocked a bit. This time my hand runs across my face and wipes actual tears away.

  “Listen, kid. Just because one of your parents—my lame brother—is an ass doesn’t mean they both are. After what happened with Penny, we know it’s been hard on you, ya know? But your mom, she believes in you more than you believe in yourself. So I don’t know, maybe think about showing up for a Sunday dinner every now and then?”

  I put out the cigarette, and Sally pushes off the step and heads back inside. Digging into my jacket, I pull out a piece of gum and pop it into my mouth. Turning to look inside, I see Mom joking around with Sally and my gut tightens up.

  I should’ve made time for Sunday dinners.

  Walking back into the house, I see Mom putting the finishing touches on her meal. She always outdoes herself, making these huge meals for people who hardly ever appreciate them. I know I never really did. Moving over to her, I wrap my arms around her tiny body and squeeze her tight. She doesn’t respond with words, but she holds me right back.

  “Sally told you?” she whispers. I hold her tighter, and she edges away, looking into my eyes, “I couldn’t care less if you are a doctor or a lawyer, or a freaking garbage man. The only thing I want is for you to be happy, Kayden.” Her eyes tear up and her hands lie over her heart. “I can promise you there’s nothing worse in this world than being a mother and seeing your kid suffer. No matter their age. If this acting thing makes you happy then it makes me happy. All right?”

  I smile and nod once. “All right.”

  “Good.” She pushes me away from her and points toward the living room. “Now go hate your brother and your dad some more. It wouldn’t be a holiday without all of your stupid attitudes.”

  Moving over to the stove, I breathe in the delicious foods. Taking my finger, I go to taste one of her many sauces heating up and she slaps my hand. “No! That one has pecans in it, and I’m not interested in killing you today. Try the one in the back I made for you.”

  Listening to her order, I do as I’m told and it tastes as fantastic as always. There’s really nothing like Ma’s cooking.

  I really should make time for Sunday dinners.

  The rest of the night runs pretty smoothly, because my mind is focused on nailing the interview tomorrow. Dad and Landon make their normal, offensive remarks about me, but I don’t give a shit. Tomorrow everything changes, tomorrow my life begins.

  Tomorrow, I prove them all wrong.

  After a night spent at my parents’ house, I am more determined than ever to ace this audition. But the longer I sit across from this pregnant lady who looks like she’s five, the more I feel like a failure. She tugs on her ear, browsing over my less-than-amusing résumé, which forces me to shift around in my chair.

  “So, Mr. Reece, you’ve been acting for—?”

  “A few years. Mainly looking for a way to break into the business, to get a chance to show what I can do.”

  She nods, muttering to herself as she continues looking at the résumé with a look of displeasure. Setting the resume aside, she lifts her head to give me a benign, kind smile that does little to disguise the pity she feels as she searches for the right words to let me down gently. “You have a great look, you really do. A fresh face, nice voice. But—”

  There’s always a ‘but’.

  “But, your experience is a bit lacking. Perhaps work now on building your résumé, getting more experience. When you do that, come back and see me again.”

  I hear my Dad in my ears, echoing how I’m a loser and need to get a real job. Placing my hands on the edges of her desk, I search for a voice that sounds confident and not beggarly. “Mrs. Ericks, I can do this. I know I can be a big benefit to your agency, and I know I will benefit from your agency’s representation. I get it—I lack the impressive credentials you are looking for. I didn’t study theater at the top schools, or lock in my first commercial at the age of three. But this is what I want. This is who I am. From the bottom of my soul, I promise you better than my best. I promise you the top of the line. I won’t disappoint you, and failure is not an option. There’s something inside me telling me I’m in the right place. This is supposed to be my home. All I need you to do is invite me in.”

  She’s quiet for a moment, staring at me with eyes that are filling with emotion. She’s giving in. She’s going to let me in.

  Suddenly, her office door bursts open and a woman wearing way too much make-up stumbles in, her face pale. Even with the make-up she looks freaking awful. “Stacey—sorry to interrupt. We are swamped out here with auditions for the toothpaste commercial and I have—” Her hand flies to her mouth as a gagging sounds comes out and her body starts to quiver. Shifting quickly to the garbage can, the lady starts upchucking her lunch, breakfast, and the rest of the week’s menu.

  “Oh my gosh. Grace! Go home!” Stacey stands, and moving closer to her co-worker, checks to see if she’s all right as she ushers her toward the door.

  No! Come back! You were just about to sign me!

  “Mr. Reece.” Stacey turns to me and gives me a sad grin. “Thank you for coming in. Remember, when you get those additional résumé builders please, stop by again. In the front lobby there is some information on acting classes and headshots from photographers. Please hang out for as long as you wish.”

  No. No! Rejection. Failure. Loser. Dismissal.

  Walking out of the office, I hang around in the lobby for a while, watching real actors coming in for real auditions. I sit there, pretending to be one of them, make believing. I don’t go home right away, because the moment I walk out of this building, I know my once-in-a-lifetime shot
at a real acting career will be nothing more than a memory.

  “Ms. Peterson, no offense, but I’m not going to let you win this time. Oh, did I tell you about my family trip coming up?” I exhale noisily, moving my checker pieces across the board.

  On Thursdays I always take a half-day from work so I can volunteer at the Outers Retirement home. Nursing homes just so happen to smell like a million of grandparents’ homes all at once; kind of like a mixture of candy and liniment. I love coming to Outers; the people here are so amazing to interact with in this place. It’s so important to give back to the community, remembering that the elderly need love too and…Ah hell.

  Really I come here to complain about my dysfunctional family because all my friends and co-workers are sick of hearing about it. The old people don’t care either, but most of the time they are just happy to have someone playing checkers with them. I would play chess—but do I look like Einstein? Trust me, I don’t look like Einstein.

  “I mean, I’m trying my best not to think about it too much, and there’s not much I can do to take away from the awkwardness of it all, but well, here we are.” I sigh and double jump the red checker chip over the black. “Do you think I’m overthinking it? Mom said I’m overthinking it, but let’s be honest. She also said I was overthinking the fact that Danny wasn’t going to propose and look at us now.” My eyes shift to my ringless finger and an unattractive, heavy frown takes over my lips. Mom should have named me Pathetic. It seems more fitting.

  I look up to the old woman sitting across from me, who is smiling wide and nodding in response. Happy listeners are the best listeners, so I keep on yapping. “I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t the jerk propose? Well, probably because he was too busy getting it on with my nasty ho-bag of a sister. There are so many days I wish I had a sibling redo. I wish I could take her and push her back into Mom’s va-jay-jay and get another sister. A real sister, not a ho-bag sister.” The elderly woman smiles even bigger and nods some more.

  I bite my bottom lip, grinding my teeth into my flesh and narrow my eyes. “Did you forget to put in your hearing aids, Ms. Peterson?” No response other than a big fake dentures smile and nodding. “Perfect. Anyway, at least this time I have someone to take home with me for the Christmas weekend at the cabin. Mom kept reminding me about the fact that I’ve ditched the last three years and she guilt-tripped me by saying Grandma probably doesn’t have many more years with us because she’s as old as a bat—no offense.”

  Nod. Smile. Smile. Nod.

  “Besides, this Christmas is going to be special.” Reaching into my coat pocket, I pull out a ring box and watch Ms. Peterson’s eyes widen with joy. Leaning in toward her I whisper, “Richard’s going to propose!”

  “HA!” is the sound that travels to my ears from old man Eddie, who’s sitting at a table across the room. “Sunshine, how do you know a man’s going to propose? Either he does or he doesn’t!”

  “Shut it, Eddie. He left it under the bed this morning.”

  “You mean he dropped it under the bed this morning.” Eddie snickers as he rolls his wheelchair over to the table, joining Ms. Peterson and me.

  Rolling my eyes I shrug my shoulders. “Po-tay-to! Po-tah-to! Whatever! I’m engaged!”

  “He didn’t ask you.”

  I frown, staring at the sparkling, somewhat underwhelming diamond. “Must you put such a damper on this?”

  “Listen sweetheart, you’ve been dating this guy for what, seven months? He’s not the one. And when you’ve been around as long as I have, you realize that you should let them go and not waste your time. He’s not for you.”

  Running the ring through my fingers I sigh, “He’s the one for me. Not everyone can be like you and Ms Peterson.”

  Ms. Peterson laughs as Eddie takes her hand into his and kisses it, making her instantly transform into a high school teenager. They met each other a few years ago here and are the main couple of the nursing home. Ms. Peterson has been known to beat off other women who give Eddie googly eyes. I appreciate her ability to mark her territory, as it’s something I wish I could have done in my past.

  “Julie Anne, the loser’s idea of date night is ordering Chinese food and having you watch him play something about calling and duties all night long.”

  I hate when Eddie uses my full name. It makes it seem like he’s scolding me. “I like those nights. Besides, he’s finally ready to meet my family. He’s coming to Wisconsin with me. I think he’s going to propose in front of my parents!”

  Eddie groans at my words and slaps his hand against his face—for extra insult. “Let’s think about this. We all know you rush into relationships.”

  “I do not!”

  “Do too!” is heard throughout the whole community hall from all of the people who live in the nursing home. If I weren’t so awkward, I may have even been offended.

  Eddie smiles to me and rubs the bald spot on his head. “Peter the computer geek, Ryan the drug addict, and don’t even get us started on Tyler the personal trainer.”

  “They weren’t that bad.”

  “Ha! Tyler had you working out five times a day. And I think we both know how you feel about gyms. It’s a nasty sweatshop that makes…”

  I mutter, “…women feel inferior to men. Yes, okay. So in the past I haven’t picked out the best guys. But Richard is different. This ring shows that!”

  “Ah to be young and an idiot again.” Eddie grins and kisses Ms. Peterson’s hand. She is of course nodding and smiling. “The truth is you never got over that asshole Danny.”

  “That’s not fair. He was the love of my life…” I explain, hoping to change the subject.

  Eddie’s mood shifts as he leans in toward me and places his hand over mine. “Sunshine, the love of your life wouldn’t cheat on you with your sister.”

  He’s right. I definitely hate him for being right, but mostly I hate myself for still missing Danny, even though I now have a Richard.

  “Alright, well, I think I’ve suffered enough for one visit. I gotta stop by the agency, pick up some liquor to hide in my sock drawer like in high school, and then hit the road.” Standing from my victorious game of checkers with Ms. Peterson, I give Eddie a hug and receive a kiss on the cheek from the handsome gentleman. I walk around and kiss the elderly woman on the top of her head. “Merry Christmas you two.”

  “Happy Easter, dear,” Ms. Peterson says, holding up her middle finger and kissing her lips against it.

  “Happy Christmas, Jules! And congratulations on your bubble gum machine diamond.” Eddie laughs and laughs, with Ms. Peterson joining in. I watch her pull out her hearing aids and stick them in. She was ignoring me on purpose! After picking up my stunned jaw from the floor I head out toward the acting agency to grab some packets before my five-hour trip to upper Wisconsin.

  “Oh my gosh, Jules, I’m so glad you’re here! We are swamped! First, fast question, do my feet look swollen?” Stacey, my co-worker, steps out of her slip-on shoes and shows me her fat toes. Ew. She sure knows how to make pregnancy look appealing. “Gross, right? Anyway, please say you’ll stay and help me with these auditions.”

  “No Stace! I was just stopping by to pick up a few things. I have a five-hour drive with Richard starting in less than an hour to go watch my sister tongue the ex-love of my life. I can’t help this time,” I cry at my begging co-worker as I walk into the agency to see a room filled with hopeful male actors who are auditioning for the new Fresh toothpaste commercial. “P.S. I’m still pissed at you for ignoring the picture of Richard I sent you last night. He looked super hot.”

  Stacey’s eyebrows arch. “You didn’t send me a picture.”

  “Right. Lie about it. Whatever, I gotta get going.”

  “No! Please, Jules! We are hours behind, Grace went home with food poisoning, Claire is knee-deep in audition applications, and I’m eight-and-a-half months pregnant, hungry as fuck, and annoyed as hell.” Stacey wobbles into my office—well, my boss’s office, which I am usin
g until his vacation is over—with her large puppy-dog eyes staring me down. No lie, Stacey makes a super cute preggers woman, but her begging isn’t going to help. I still have to pack! Plus there’s supposed to be this crazy blizzard moving in.

  “Sorry, babes.” Shrugging my shoulders, I reach into my pocket, pull out the engagement ring, and exclaim, “Richard has a big weekend planned for us!” Expecting an excited response in return from my friend, my high-pitched pronouncement is met instead with a silent stare at the ring box.

  “What is that?” She asks, narrowing her eyes. “Where’s the diamond? And why are you even considering marrying him? Everyone knows you’re only taking him up to your family’s cabin to show Danny that you’re over him. Which in turn makes it quite obvious that you are not over Danny.”

  A huff falls from me and I pull the ring away from her viewpoint. “You’re a mean pregnant woman. Did you know that? Anyway, I’m leaving now, and the next time you see me, I will be back as a fiancée! Happy holidays!”

  Picking up my paperwork, I turn away from my rude co-worker, and head out of the room, still staring at the diamond ring. It’s gorgeous! It’s pretty. It’s nice. Sigh…it’s decent.

  Walking through the agency in my own world, I envision my future wedding—the colors, the flowers, the look of shock on my family’s faces, Danny’s nonexistent body because he’s not invited—and I am shaken from my daydream when my body slams against a wall…a moving wall, with abs? My eyes look up to an outrageously handsome man standing in front of me, who I almost plowed over. My papers go flying everywhere, and the engagement ring lands across the room, yet I have to force myself to break contact with his green eyes, which are firmly locked with mine. I shake my head back and forth, repeating Richard’s name in my mind. Richard, Richard! I’m engaged to Richard!

  “Oh no!” I overreact, looking at my papers and the soon-to-be-on-my-finger ring resting on the carpeted floor.