Merry Little Hate Notes

Chapter Twenty-Three

HOLLY

“YOU NEED TO ACT LIKE you don’t like me,” I whispered out the side of my mouth, half listening as Camille told us the rules of this team-building exercise. Brandon and I sat at a bistro table filled with all the supplies to make a gingerbread house out of graham crackers.

“Why?” Brandon whispered back.

“Women in the bathroom are noticing.”

“Which women?”

“That’s confidential.” I smiled. Dang it. I probably shouldn’t have done that. It was way too flirty.

“So then I probably shouldn’t give you this.” Brandon reached into his pocket and slid a note to me under the table.

Two notes in one day? This was getting serious. I liked this new game. Even though I feared the bathroom-crew-that-was-probably-a-gang I was involved with, I braved gazing down and read, I’ll stop the world and melt with you. Oh, that was adorable. He was going to make me lose all self-respect and kiss him before the talk happened. I wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told me yet. Hello. I was obviously into him.

I nudged him with my shoulder to nonverbally tell him I loved the note. It made me wish my sticky notes were easily accessible, even though Brandon was making me fulfill the singing bet immediately after we completed our gingerbread house. I was trying to hate him for it but was failing miserably. In fact, I wanted to write him a note back that said, Hear my soul speak: you rock my Christmas socks. I would have to remember that one for later.

Camille yelled, “You have one hour. Starting now!”

That was my cue to pull up the picture on my phone of the design I had drawn over the weekend. No more messing around—we were going to win this one.

Brandon chuckled. “I don’t think we have time to build this mini-mansion.”

“That’s not the can-do attitude I need from you right now. I hear things in the bathroom,” I mumbled almost inaudibly. “Believe me, we need the mansion.”

From the way Brandon’s brows rose, I could tell he thought I’d lost my mind. “Your bathroom scares me.”

“As it should. Now enough talking. Let’s do this.”

He saluted me, making me laugh. We were so going to be office gossip. Would it be so bad if everyone knew Brandon and I were together? I mean, I would have to clear the Katherine Heigl thing up first, which meant he would probably win Mistletoe Manness. Things I would have to worry about later. I was in this to win it.

“First, we need to score the graham crackers. Just do what I do.”

We both grabbed a serrated knife. I wasn’t sure Jane should have access to knives at work—who knew what she had in store for today?

Brandon and I meticulously cut out our pieces.

“I wish they’d have let me bring my hot glue gun for this.” I’d asked on Friday, but Camille nixed that idea. “We’ll have to make do with the frosting.”

Brandon pressed his lips together, trying not to smile. His adoring gaze, though, was what worried me. Hiding our attraction was apparently a hopeless cause. It made me wonder if our past would come to light too. What would people think if they found out about my once-charmed life?

“I have every confidence you’ll make it work,” Brandon cheered me on.

I dipped my plastic knife into the bowl of frosting, careful to get just the right amount on it, when a notification from my work email address popped up on my phone. “Brandon,” I stuttered. “I think Blake Vanderbilt finally responded.” My heart raced with excitement and trepidation. She held my Monica Geller life in her hands. “Take the knife.” I had to know what she said.

Brandon dutifully took the knife and leaned closer to me, just as eager to read her email.

I opened my work email app and clicked on Blake’s message while holding my breath.

Holly, I apologize for not getting back to you sooner. I wanted to vet all my options before I signed with Elevate. After doing more research, I’m not sure Elevate is the best fit for Artemis. With that said, I think you are the perfect fit for Artemis. I’d love to chat with you about some opportunities we have available here. Feel free to call me on my personal cell. I look forward to speaking with you.

My stupid eyes began to water. I did my best to blink back the tears, but they meant business.

“Holly, it’s okay,” Brandon said for my ears only. “We win some, we lose some.”

“Why do I always feel like I lose?” Emotion rippled through every word, making my voice crack.

Brandon reached for me, but halfway through remembered we weren’t alone. “Let’s go talk.”

I shook my head, fearing what people would think if they saw us leave together while I was clearly emotional. “Let’s just get through this, and then I’m going to go home.”

“I’ll drive you,” Brandon offered.

“Thank you, but I think I just want to be alone.” I needed time to process and probably make charts in my head. Chart 218 was already laughing in my face. It had warned me about the scary side of magic.

“Holly, I promise this isn’t the end of your dream. We have several irons in the fire.”

I wasn’t counting on any of them. I felt numb, and maybe even stupid, for daring to dream again. Not wanting to sound dramatic, I just nodded, counting down the minutes until this team-building exercise was over and I could go home to sulk and eat cookie dough. Unfortunately, it meant I couldn’t bring my A game to the gingerbread house—I just tried my hardest not to cry.

Brandon sweetly did his best to see my creation through, but it was a hopeless cause. No way we were going to win. Even Jane and Gerald’s gruesome offering looked better than ours. Jane had used graham crackers to make a startlingly realistic Krampus tongue. I think Gerald had given up and just let Jane do her thing. It was probably in his best interest.

“Hey,” Brandon said softly. “Don’t worry about this. We’ll get them tomorrow during Christmas card making. You can sing your song after that.” He grinned.

I’d forgotten about our bet. “Thanks,” I said half-heartedly, although I appreciated him trying to make me feel better. I just felt so sucker punched.

“Holly, we’ll fix this. I promise.”

I wish I had his confidence, but life had taught me otherwise.

MY DAD WALKED THROUGH THE door to find me lying on the couch with a spoon hanging out of my mouth while I savored every last bit of the chocolate chip cookie dough I’d just shoved in. A stomachache was probably in my near future, judging by how little cookie dough was left in the bowl resting below me on the floor. Its position gave me the easiest and laziest access.

Dad carried two festive-looking bags from one of my favorite department stores. “Holly,” he sounded surprised to see me. “I didn’t think you would be home yet. I was doing some Christmas shopping.”

It touched me that he was making such an effort, especially because we really couldn’t afford to be shopping at Nordstrom. He should have at least gone to Nordstrom Rack.

Dad eyed my fetal position and the bowl of cookie dough. “Are you sick, honey?”

“I will be soon, I’m sure.” I dropped the spoon in the bowl.

“Did something happen between you and Brandon? ”

“No,” I whined. “But knowing my luck, something will.”

Dad tilted his head. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” I didn’t want to sound as pathetic as I looked and felt.

Dad dropped the bags by the door before hanging his long wool coat on the old coatrack he’d had specially crafted from a famous woodworker out of London. “It’s not nothing. Talk to me.”

I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair, which was tangled from me lying on it.

Dad took a seat next to me and put his arm around me.

My head fell on his shoulder. All I could do was sigh repeatedly while I breathed in the scent of old books that always seemed to linger on him. It had been a long time since I’d shared my troubles with my father. He’d been in no state to help me, or even himself, for years. I’d almost forgotten I could talk to him. Although, it still made me nervous. What if I said something to trigger him and he felt like he needed a drink to cope?

When I didn’t respond, Dad kissed my head. “Holly, you need to stop protecting me.”

“That’s easier said than done,” I admitted.

“You are such a good kid. I’m so sorry for what I’ve put you through. Please talk to me,” he pleaded.

I didn’t know where to start. I hadn’t talked to him about moving out yet, thinking I would save that until after the holidays, when I knew it would be possible. But now that was in question.

“Holly, please. What happened today?”

I curled into him more, like I was a little girl. “When I agreed to work with Brandon, the deal was I would receive half of Brandon’s commission on any account that closed before the end of the year.”

“That was quite generous of Brandon.”

“It was. It is. Except, I’m not sure now that anything will close. The biggest account we were working on just fell through.” I did my best to hold back my tears. “I was hoping to use the commission from it to pay off all our debt and ... um ... move in with Carmen. Live the single girl’s life for a while.” I held still, waiting for Dad to respond to my bombshell news.

Dad didn’t say anything right away .

The guilt bubbled up inside of me. “It’s not because I don’t love you, it’s just—”

“Holly,” Dad interrupted. “Don’t mistake my silence as anything other than me being in awe of you. But I need you to listen to me. The debts you speak of are mine, not yours. You have to stop shouldering responsibilities that aren’t yours. You should move out. In fact, I’ll kick you out if you don’t.” He tried to sound stern. He’d always been terrible at it, which was probably how we’d gotten away with so much growing up, especially Christian.

“Dad, you can’t afford for me to move out.”

“No, honey, you can’t afford to stay. I see what it’s doing to you and it’s not right.”

That was quite the way to put it. It was kind of killing me inside. I hadn’t wanted to admit that because I needed to be strong for my dad. Yet, I wasn’t sure if I could let go. “What will you do if I move out?”

“Despite my behavior for the past several years, I am capable of standing on my own two feet . I will figure it out, and you have to let me.”

Oh, the charts had so many things to say about this. It wasn’t good. “But what if—”

“Holly,” Dad warned. “You need to start thinking about yourself. About your dreams.”

I laughed miserably. “I don’t know if I will ever see my dreams come true.”

“You don’t watch them happen—you make them happen, no matter the obstacles, because there will always be some when you are on the right track. Is there any chance you can get this account to close?”

“I don’t know.” Brandon had mentioned that sometimes this was a tactic to get a better deal. “Weirdly, the CEO offered me a job.”

“Really? Are you interested in leaving Elevate?”

“Yes,” I uneasily admitted. “But I don’t know that I want to work for Blake Vanderbilt.” She hadn’t given me warm and fuzzy vibes. I wasn’t sure I could be part of another girl gang. Jane might hurt me if she found out I’d moved on from hers.

“What do you want to do, then? ”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know,” I whimpered.

Dad paused before he carefully said, “I think you do. You’ve known since you were old enough to read your mother’s law books.”

I tensed at just the mention of my mother. It was a rare occasion when we spoke about her. “I can’t be a lawyer,” I stammered.

“Why not, Holly?” Dad kissed my head.

“Because she left us,” my voice and heart cracked.

“No. She left me. Not you.”

“She left me too because I knew—” My hand flew over my mouth before I said the thing—the big thing I’d been keeping from my dad for years. The thing I feared would drive him to spiral out of control again.

Dad leaned away from me and removed my hand from my mouth. He studied me thoughtfully as the creases in his forehead deepened. His wise, concerned eyes spoke of how sorry he was. “My dear daughter, how long have you known about your mother’s affair?”

My jaw fell open. What? “How long have you known?” That was the better question.

“Since it happened, your junior year. Although your mother denied it, I’m not that much of a fool.”

“But you never said anything.”

“I didn’t want you to hate her any more than you already did. Hate does terrible things to people. I know that better than anyone.”

“You don’t hate people.”

“I wish I could claim that, but I hate one person.” He pointed at his chest. “Myself.”

“You do?” My heart broke.

“I hate myself for spending so much time away from my family while traveling the world on what I thought were my greatest adventures, when the greatest one was at home.”

“I never thought of you as always being gone or neglecting us.” He always tried to take us on trips when he could during our summer breaks.

“That’s because it’s all you knew. But your mother knew differently and wanted more. She was often lonely and felt like she came second to my work. And perhaps she did at times. I was full of hubris. ”

“But you were so in love.” I don’t remember them ever disagreeing in front of Christian or me. This information was blowing my mind.

“We were in love. But a relationship needs more than love. It needs time and priority. I wasn’t good at that,” Dad sighed regretfully.

“That doesn’t mean she should have cheated on you,” I said indignantly on his behalf.

“I think she would agree with you.”

I curled my lips, not so sure.

“Holly,” Dad said tenderly. “She couldn’t take the guilt. I’m not excusing her absence or the way she has pushed you out of her life. I’m only saying this so you don’t blame yourself. Nothing except the heavy weight of guilt would continue to keep her from you. She loves you so much, though she has done a poor job of showing it the last several years. You and Christian were her everything, and she lost both of you,” Dad’s deep voice warbled with emotion. “I blamed myself. And knowing I lit the match that burned our family to the ground destroyed me. I couldn’t take it, so I started drinking and gave up on life. But you ...” Dad rested his warm hand on my cheek, which was now wet with tears. “You never gave up on me, so don’t you give up on yourself or your dreams. Don’t you let your mother or me take those from you. Promise me.”

I was ugly crying by this point, hardly able to think or even breathe. “But what if my dreams don’t work out? I don’t know if I can take it.”

“Honey, you can’t put your life on hold for what might go wrong. You have to seize all the magic you can get. Magic doesn’t just happen. And there would be no such thing as magic if there weren’t mundane or hard things in our lives.”

That was quite the mic drop, and it hit hard, right where it needed to. First Brandon big-banged my perception of my life and my past, and now my dad joined him. Even more, Dad was making me face my future, my dreams, and possibly my mother. I’d been fighting so hard against all of them because of the past I thought I knew. But what did I really know?

I gazed at the Christmas tree, all lit up in front of the small window in the living room. Something about it gave me hope and made me realize that while I didn’t have all the answers, I knew three things: One, I needed magic in my life. Two, I wanted to be a lawyer. Three, I wanted my Monica Geller life. I wondered if Brandon would play the part of Chandler Bing.

Before I could respond to Dad, there was a knock on the door. Dad stood, walked over to the door, and opened it, letting in a blast of cold air that felt good on my wet cheeks, heated from emotion.

“I have a delivery for Holly St. James,” a man on the other side of the door said.

That piqued my interest. I craned my neck to see the delivery man hand Dad a gorgeous bouquet full of what looked like white roses, holly, and blue thistles. It was stunning.

“It appears you have an admirer.” Dad walked the flower arrangement over to me. “I wonder who it could be?” he said mysteriously, like we didn’t know.

Meanwhile, my heart was pitter-pattering. I took the beautiful flowers, plucked the card nestled among them, and read it to myself.

I’m so happy you candy cane into my life. Love, Brandon.

Now that was magical. I think Brandon had just answered my Chandler Bing question. Now all I had to do was find my courage to be Monica. And ... a lawyer.

“How will I pay for law school?” I wondered out loud.

Dad smiled the biggest smile. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“I like together.” I’d missed having him to lean on so much.

“Me too. Now I have some presents to wrap, and I think you have a phone call to make.” Dad winked. “I love you, daughter. I have an inkling Brandon does too.”

Yeah. I had the same inkling. Which is why I texted Brandon the cheesiest note of all time.

What light is light if Brandon be not seen? What joy is joy if Brandon be not by? SNOW-body compares to you.

And no one ever had.