Page 24 of The Holiday Exchange

“No worries. I’ll be out in a minute. Feel free to head down for breakfast.”

He’d already explained that his mom gets up and makes French toast every Christmas morning. It’s a tradition of theirs, one I’m looking forward to. “Okay. See you soon.”

He gives me what feels like a really soft, sweet smile. “See you soon.”

When I walk out of the room a few minutes later, I still have the biggest grin on my face.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”Donna kisses my cheek as I join her and Jeffrey in the kitchen.

“Morning, son,” Jeffrey says.

I’m torn between gratitude for how they’ve embraced me as part of the family and the guilt I feel because we’re lying to them. If I had it my way, we wouldn’t be lying to them. Briar would be my boyfriend.

“Good morning. Smells great.”

“It’s Briar’s favorite.”

“Please don’t tell me he puts hot sauce on his French toast,” I joke, making them both laugh. He puts it all over his eggs each morning, like he doesn’t want to taste the egg.

“I’m not that bad,” he says, joining us.

“Just making sure I didn’t have the world’s weirdest boyfriend.” I wink at him, and he rolls his eyes, but he can’t hold back his huge smile.

We eat together, lots of laughter and conversation the whole time. We open presents afterward. Briar gives me a hug, holding on longer than I would have expected when he sees the snowmobile ornament I got him. “We need two little figures sitting on it to be us,” I tease.

“I like that,” he replies huskily.

I got his parents monogrammed coasters with anMfor either Maine or Maxwell, and loved the warm scarf they got me in return. Briar watches closely as I open my gift from him—a small, 4x6 framed watercolor of mountains, and I clutch it tightly, appreciating it more than he knows.

After gifts, we all head into the kitchen, cleaning up and getting the turkey in the oven. I smile when I spot the blueberrypie from Hattie’s on the counter. Briar must’ve mentioned to his parents how much I loved it, or maybe it’s a Christmas custom. We play board games after that, Briar and his family pulling me into more of their family traditions, which feel so special to me. I’m lucky they’re sharing them with me, but it makes me think about my own family again. How I wish we had this, and my complicated relationship with my brother, and how I’m going behind his back right now.

“Time for some football,” Jeffrey says.

“I’ll help Mom in the kitchen for a minute, then come out and watch with you,” Briar tells him.

“Do you mind if I excuse myself for a few minutes to call my family?” Sadly, I’m not sure if any of them will call me…or each other. It’s just not how we are.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’m sure they miss you. We appreciate your spending your holiday with us this year.” Donna reaches out and squeezes my hand. I feel Briar’s gaze on me, holding me, but even when I meet it, I can’t decipher it.

“I’m loving it more than you know.” I turn, hoping Briar doesn’t stop me on my way out. I just need a minute, suddenly overwhelmed by emotions I can’t explain.

I bundle up in my snow gear and head out to the front porch. I sit on the swing and call my mom first.

“Dawson! Merry Christmas. We only have a few minutes. We’re on our way to a holiday party.”

“Oh,” I reply, but she doesn’t hear the frustration in my voice. I’m too old to care that my family isn’t close, but it still bothers me. “I just wanted to say hi and merry Christmas.”

“Hi to you too. We miss you!”

Do they? I can’t help wondering if they really do.

“What are you doing this year?” she asks. “Are you alone?”

Funny that she didn’t think to ask me before now. “No, Mom. I’m not alone. I’m with a guy, actually…and his family. A guy I really like.”

“That sounds nice, dear. I’m glad you’re having a fun holiday. It’s beautiful here! We’ve done lots of skiing.”

She doesn’t ask who the guy is, if we’re dating, or anything else. Again, I know my parents love me, but they’re also so…detached, and they always have been.