The memories must be rushing back to him now. How I ghosted him for no reason at all and disappeared from the face of the earth.
Dom, Gemma, and Brad are all engaged in small talk. About the bad traffic on our way here, and things to do in Dover during Christmas, and Oh, do you remember that time Mrs. Pavel’s house caught on fire when the kids lit up the chimney because they were scared of Santa? Tuning them out is no trouble at all.
The more I stare at Joe, the more I realize how my memory hasn’t done him any justice. He is not half as gorgeous as Dominic, yet I am drawn to him more. To his too-sharp nose, and the ears that poke out a little, and the curve of his lips that are always tilted in a slightly mocking grin. He is built like a quarterback. Muscular and sturdy and sun kissed, golden everywhere.
I can’t believe this is the third time we’ve met like this. Through kismet. Without meaning to. And that every single time we do, something gets in the way of our togetherness.
There are so many things I want to say to him, so many things I want to ask, to explain, but now is not the time. I doubt there will ever be a time.
Side note: I have to tell Dom. Immediately. Crap. What a mess.
“So what do your parents do, Everlynne?” Gemma asks. The words teacher and construction-company owner flew around while I was ogling Joe.
“My dad is a CPA. He has his own firm. And my mom . . . she owned an art gallery.”
I hold my breath, hoping they don’t pick up on the past tense. Opening my family tragedy for discussion is not something I’m keen on doing. Especially not in front of Joe. Luckily, Gemma and Brad don’t dwell on it. “I’ve been to San Francisco twice, and both times I was amazed by how foggy it is. This is not how one imagines the Golden State, you know?” Gemma says.
Smiling, I force myself to concentrate on the conversation, which requires ignoring the loud voices in my head that shout IT’S JOE and DOM IS GOING TO BE FREAKED OUT and YOU HAVE TO TALK TO BOTH OF THEM.
“Yeah. All coastal cities are breezy. San Diego’s the same. It’s when you go inland where it gets the-depths-of-hell hot.”
“Wicked hot.” Dom taps my nose, grinning. “You’re a New Englander now, remember?”
I force out a laugh, but all I want is for this portion of the evening to be over so I can finally be alone with Dom and bring him up to speed. Christ-MESS indeed.
The evening stretches across minutes, and hours, then days, and finally years. At some point, I struggle to remember myself before entering this house. After hopping into the shower and getting ready for dinner, Dom and I are subjected to a seven-course meal. Then we drink homemade cocktails by the fire and open the door to the Christmas carolers （Dom is right: they are good）。 Then we all bundle up and go to see the Christmas lights downtown. We go by foot, and Dom holds my hand so I won’t slip on the melting snow. Gemma insists on taking pictures of Dom and me hugging in front of a massive Christmas tree, blinding us with the camera flash.
Even though people surround me, I’ve never felt more alone. I wonder what Dad and Renn are doing right now. Are they by themselves? Did they go to Aunt Mimi’s for the holiday?
I marvel at the fact that every family has its own DNA. Its unique traditions, inside jokes, its inborn oddness. The Lawsons, for instance, are big on eating a quick early Christmas meal, opening all the presents before midnight, and then completing, through a team effort, a two-thousand-piece puzzle by morning. The Graveses, apparently, like to cram every single Christmas tradition known to mankind into one day.
Joe and I carefully ignore one another throughout the entire never-ending ordeal.
By the time we get back home, it is close to midnight. Gemma leads us to Dom’s old room, babbling energetically. It’s a beautiful room, with a queen-size bed, one blue accent wall, and navy gingham curtains.
I don’t let myself wonder what Joe’s room looks like.
Dom closes the door, but not before kissing his mom good night. I sit on the edge of his bed and brace myself for the most awkward conversation in my life.
So, funny story. Do you know your brother? Yeah, the only one you got. Well, turns out, we used to date slash sleep together slash I was kind of, sort of, crazy in love with him.
Yeah, no. The announcement can definitely use a few tweaks before I make it.
When Dom starts getting undressed and slides into his pajamas, I wonder if I should tell him without consulting Joe first. It’s his secret to tell too. Causing sibling issues is the last thing I want to do here. That would be the second family for me to break apart. That’s one hidden talent I did not want to discover about myself.