by Lucy Smoke
He looks down at me, the question written all over his face, and I bite my lip.
“You want to date me?” I ask, wanting him to be as clear as possible for my muddled brain.
“Yes.”
“Evan, are you asking me to be your girlfriend while your parents are waiting downstairs in the house you all live in together?”
“Er … yes.”
“This is all very high school.”
“I wouldn’t know. I went—”
“To a private boarding school. Yes, I know. You are entirely too fancy for me.” I smile up at him.
“Are you avoiding the question?”
“Not at all. I just like watching you sweat.”
“I can think of a few better ways to work up a sweat,” he says with a wink.
I lightly slap his chest. “Yes, Mr. MacAlister, I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
I grin up at him, and his arms tighten around me as he dips his head, touching his lips to mine.
“Evan! What’s taking so long?” The shrill voice is closer, and we laugh.
“I’ve got to get my own place now,” he whispers against my lips.
I rise on my tiptoes, deepening the kiss before bringing one hand around and squeezing his butt cheek. “Yep. I don’t want to censor my butt squeezes around your parents now that I have free rein of them.”
“Come on, Milly Collins. Let’s go meet the firing squad.”
“Wait, what?”
But he doesn’t answer my question, only pulls me through the door and down the stairs, and before I know it, I’m standing breathless in front of Evan’s very surprised parents, watching them glance between the two of us. Then, his mother’s eyes land on our entwined hands, and she frowns.
“Hello, Mother, Father,” Evan says, pulling his hand from mine a little too quickly to be natural.
I tilt my head at the formality of the way he talks to his parents. Something about the way he said it rubs me the wrong way.
Who talks to their parents like that?
“Evan, what is this?” his father asks, eyebrows raised and arms crossed.
Firing squad indeed.
“Welcome home,” Evan says, ignoring his father’s question.
I get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Did you not get my email, honey? I never heard back from you.” His mother’s tone is at direct odds with her words.
“Yep, I sure did. I must have forgotten or something,” Evan says with a shrug. “Why are you back so early? Turks and Caicos too warm for you?”
I glance at Evan, confused about what is going on here.
“A little birdie told us you were directing the Christmas Festival,” his mother says, twirling one hand around in the air like she can conjure up said bird.
“You came back for the Christmas Festival?” Evan asks incredulously.
His parents pause in an uncomfortable silence and then look at me. I get the feeling they didn’t just come back for the festival. They didn’t want to see their son and celebrate Christmas with him, but they wanted to warn him away from me. To make sure he doesn’t fall into the clutches of an evil Collins. This family feud has gone a little too far. It went a little too far the day it started between two silly, old men.
“Evan, can we speak to you in the kitchen?” His mother extends her head toward the kitchen.
I feel Evan stiffen beside me, and I look up at him, surprised to see him staring at me with guilt on his face. He steps away from me and walks toward his parents, following them to the kitchen. I put one hand on his arm, begging him not to go with them but to stay and stand his ground with me. He shakes his head. A wave of anger washes over me, and part of me knows I’m being irrational, but the other part of me wants to be included.
I let go of him, watching him walk away, and feel my eyes well with tears.
What’s wrong with him? Why can’t he stand up for me against his parents?
Instead of waiting in the entryway, I choose to creep quietly toward the kitchen, pausing outside the closed door and listening intently to the conversation taking place within.
After listening for a few moments, I turn and leave. I’ve heard enough.
Evan
“You are cavorting with the enemy.”
“Mother, we are hardly cavorting. She’s the director, and I’m helping her. We were having dinner.”
I feel ashamed about lying, but I’m not ready to go against them. For some reason, they have always made me feel like I’m five years old. Some deep-seated part of me has the need to please them, and I’m not even sure why.
That’s probably something to talk to Anna about, I muse to myself while my mother is droning on in the background.
“You know what her family has put our family through over the years.”
“What about what we did to them?”
“You are taking her side?” My mother narrows her eyes at me.
“There isn’t a side to take; this is a ridiculous argument.” I huff and roll my eyes like a petulant child and not the man I am.
“What even possessed you to take a job like that with her?”
“I’ve done nothing since coming home. I hide here like a hermit, and I’m tired of it. It’s good for me to get out and do things.”
“There are plenty of things you could do that don’t involve … well, that don’t involve someone beneath you.”
We pause for a moment as we stare at each other. I hear a slight rustling noise in the hallway, but I don’t think anything of it.
“No one is beneath us; that’s very backward thinking.”
“She’s a Collins,” my mother spews as if that should settle it.
“I hardly think that my great-grandfather’s land dispute with her great-grandfather is anything to consider in this day and age. This isn’t some modern-day Romeo and Juliet.”
“Romeo and Juliet?” Father asks.
Mother gasps. “Do you have feelings for her?”
I realize what I said and how they took it. Thinking back on my sessions with Anna, I think that maybe this is my moment to get out from under my parents’ thumb once and for all. Yes, I’ve been on my own for a while but never far enough removed from them that they didn’t know every move I made. Well, almost every move I made.
Squaring my shoulders, I decide to be a man.
“Milly and I are dating, yes.” I nod, shoving my hands in my pockets. “And I’ve decided that I’m moving out.”
“But where will you go?” Mother asks.
I look at her incredulously. “I’m a grown man. You do know I’ve lived away from you most of my life.”
“You lived on our dime, young man,” my father says.
“And now, I’m moving out to live on mine.” I blow out a long breath and look at both of them before remembering I just left Milly in the foyer without a thought.
I’m already a terrible boyfriend.
I dart into the hallway, skidding on the rug, and come to a stop when I see the empty room. Milly’s gone, and now, I have some explaining to do.
10
Milly
I have a few missed calls and a text from Evan by the time I get home, but I need time to get my thoughts together. It’s a little hard to overcome hearing that my new boyfriend’s parents think I’m beneath him.
That’s what you get for eavesdropping.
I collapse on my bed and stare at the ceiling. Maybe I was right before. This is all happening too fast, and it’s a way of slowing us down, telling us to put the brakes on whatever this is.
I can feel myself spiraling, so I jump up and get ready for bed. I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror and see Evan’s hands touching me, his mouth kissing me. To my surprise, tears start to fall, unbidden.
I brush my teeth and splash water on my face, not daring to look at myself again. This is silly; I know. But I’ve been hurt too many times before to give my heart away so easily.
My phone rings again from
my bedside table as I climb into bed, and I reach to silence it, turning it facedown. I roll over and close my eyes. Sleep claims me a few minutes later, giving my brain the quiet it craves.
The next morning, I wake bright and early, jitters for the day already taking over my body. I get ready, the excitement for the festival dimmed by last night. I know I’ll see Evan today; there’s no way around it. I have several messages—questions from vendors and exhibitors, those in the Christmas play, and another one from Evan. I leave his unread, not able to focus on my emotions just yet.
I quickly dress. I spray some dry shampoo in my hair and fluff it. Then, I run mascara over my eyelashes, brush my teeth, and nod at myself in the mirror.
You can do this.
Surprisingly, it’s easy enough to avoid him with our schedules being different for each event. If I catch sight of him, I just duck into a different area until he’s gone. I know I’m being childish, but for someone who has been through breakups over being too uptight, I don’t want to give Evan the same chance to break my heart since, along with being uptight, I’m apparently beneath him now. I’m drawing out the inevitable.
Evan
Thankfully, all the guys Milly enlisted to help with the alpaca fence showed up, and we got the job knocked out pretty quickly. I’m now in the truck with Peter, transporting five alpacas to the town square where people will pick their favorite to win. Milly was right; it is an absurd idea, but the townspeople have become excited about the race shenanigans happening today, and Peter is happier than a pup about his idea coming to fruition.
As soon as we get back to town, I search for Milly, but I think she’s actively avoiding me. I don’t blame her. I did ask her to be mine, and then I abandoned her for a weird meeting with my parents. I feel awful about it. I know she had to feel like a dirty little secret.
None of my efforts to contact her have been returned, and I’m beginning to get more and more upset at the situation and myself. I just want to talk to her. I can’t throw away what we had—what we have. I haven’t felt this way about anyone, maybe even ever, and as much as it confuses me, I know I don’t want to lose her.
As I’m standing in line for a hot chocolate, something catches my eye. Two people in front of me, a little white ball bobs, and I’m instantly transported back to a dusty, grassy ground where I was lying on top of Milly, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright as she stared back at me.
It’s her toboggan, I realize, and I find myself propelled forward until I’m standing behind the woman wearing it. I raise one hand and tap on her shoulder, my surprise evident when she turns.
It’s Mandy, her sister.
Of course it is.
“Oh, it’s you,” she says, narrowing her eyes.
I briefly wonder if Milly told her what happened between us.
“What do you want?”
“Your toboggan.”
“What?”
“I want to buy your toboggan.”
“No offense—or full offense—but it would look ridiculous on you.” She sniffs and starts to step forward in line where there is a gap.
“It’s not for me. Please, I’ll pay you whatever you want.”
She stares at me and then grins. “Whatever I want?”
“Within reason.”
“One hundred dollars.” She laughs as if it’s a ludicrous amount.
“Sold,” I say, reaching for my wallet and pulling out the money, holding it in front of her.
“Oh, you’re serious?”
“Dead serious.” I pin her with a look and watch her eyes dart from the money in my hand back to my face.
“Oookay.” She plucks the money from my fingers and pulls the toboggan off, laying it in my hand. “Hope it’s worth it.” She waves the money in the air and grins.
“It will be,” I say, smiling at her for the first time. “Thanks,” I yell over my shoulder, taking off, the hot chocolate forgotten as I hunt down Milly in the crowd.
An hour later, evening is falling, and I still haven’t found her. The square has been taken over by people lining up for the race. I’m caught in the crowd when I see her for the first time. She’s on the other side of the street, the barrier between us. I wave and yell several times, but either she doesn’t see me or she’s ignoring me. My money is on the latter. There’s a loud cheer from far away. I’m willing to bet it’s close to my house, and the race is starting, but I can only look at Milly standing with Anna Potts. Her daughter still hasn’t had her baby, so she stopped by the festival to check on Milly. Part of me wonders if her daughter is even close to delivering or if she did this on purpose—putting Milly and me together.
The alpacas pass by us in a blur. I chuckle at the look of pure joy on their faces as they run. It’s probably the most excitement they’ve had in a while if they only have Peter to hang out with. The animals are gone in a flash, and I watch their tails waving in the distance, realizing with sudden clarity the one error that we made. One huge, possibly cataclysmic error. I never checked to see if there was an ending to the barrier. As it stands, the alpacas are running to freedom, and what they choose to do with that freedom determines how late I’ll be staying up.
I work my way out of the crowd, running down the line behind everyone, my breath puffing out in a white cloud at the exertion. I run by Peter and skid to a stop, doubling back.
“Peter. Fuck, man.”
“What’s up?” He’s got a full cup of coffee and a grin on his face.
“There’s no end.”
“What are you talking about?”
“There’s not a containment area for the alpacas to finish the race in. They will just be running into the wild blue yonder.”
“What in the Sam hell, Evan? How did this happen?”
“Not sure, but we’ve got to do damage control.”
Peter starts running behind me, and we weave through people. I’m pretty sure I might have stepped on a small child or a dog—something yipped—but I keep going.
“Evan? What’s wrong?” I hear someone yelling, but I don’t stop until she shrieks again. “Evan, stop!” Milly is running down the other side of the barrier, her eyes wide at how frantic I am.
“Come on!” I point to the last of the fencing, and she nods.
I’m not used to running in the cold, and my lungs are burning by the time we get to the finish line. Milly finally crosses to meet me before it dawns on her that there isn’t anything closing in the end, and there are absolutely zero alpacas in sight.
Fucking Lady. I know she led the great escape with all the others.
“Evan? Peter? Where is the barrier? Where are the alpacas?” Milly raises one hand and puts it squarely on the top of her head like she’s trying to keep from exploding.
“Ask this guy.” Peter hooks a thumb toward me, and I groan.
“I just did.” She expectantly looks at me.
“I guess I forgot.”
“You forgot?” she almost shrieks. “How could you forget the most impor—”
“Come on.” I grab her hand, which is frozen because she removed her gloves for some reason, and start running.
“Wait! What about me?” Peter yells.
I point the opposite direction. “You go that way.”
I drag Milly behind me as we head up the slight incline to the church at the other end of town, looking between buildings, around corners, behind trees. As if an entire horde of alpacas could hide behind a tree.
“They are called a herd,” Milly says behind me, and I stop.
Did I say that out loud?
“What?”
“You called them a horde. The proper noun for a group of alpacas is a herd. Not as fun as I imagined when I looked it up.”
“You looked up what a group of alpacas is called?”
“Well, of course. Wouldn’t you want to know?”
“I guess that’s what I have you for,” I say and grin down at her, but she frowns, nibbling on her bottom lip.
“What’s t
hat?” She points behind me.
I roll my eyes. “Don’t try to deflect.”
I scowl down at her, and she shakes her head.
“No, really, something is moving.”
I turn and look over my shoulder, my heart sinking as I realize what exactly is moving and where.
“It’s the alpacas. Let’s go.”
Milly tucks her hand back in mine, gloves back on, and I miss the actual contact of her skin. Maybe she’s using them as a barrier against me. I don’t know. We take off jogging again, finally reaching the edge of the church property, and Milly gasps, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. We stand there in silence for a moment before a giggle slips out from behind her glove while we survey the scene in front of us.
Four alpacas stand around, looks of glee on their faces as they munch on the hay from baby Jesus’s manger, the only thing still standing amid the destruction of the nativity scene. Mary is lying on top of Joseph, the three wise men have rolled halfway down the hill, and the animals’ bodies have been pummeled. The alpacas must not have viewed them as a threat.
“Edward is going to kill us,” Milly chokes out between giggles, and I start to chuckle.
It’s a funny scene, the alpacas staring at us as they chew their hay in slow munches, looking innocent and not capable of the mess they created.
“How do we get them back?” She peers up at me, and I look down at my hands as if a rope were suddenly going to materialize.
“Hold on,” I say, pulling my phone out and calling Peter, letting him know that we found the beasts. “He’s bringing the trailer around.”
Milly nods and grabs my arm as I try to step forward.
“Don’t. Look at what they are capable of.” She is deadly serious as her hand grips hard enough to leave indentions in my skin. “We’ve already lost the holy family. I can’t lose you too.”
