Merry Mix-Up (Holiday Hearts)

2. Newt

2

NEWT

D ecember 29th

Not much changed over the years here at home. I might have missed a few holiday traditions now and then, but when Naomi pleaded with me to come home for Thanksgiving, I humored her. We weren't close—in relationship or in age—but I loved my younger sister fiercely so I cleared my schedule to be here for her.

"Newt, my God, look how you're doing that!" Naomi's snarky chiding made Mom snicker as she untangled the lights that would string the tree.

It still amazed me that there were two women on this planet who hadn't subscribed to the consumerism mindset of day after Thanksgiving shopping. Mom and Naomi never broke this tradition of erecting and decorating our tree the same Friday every year, and I was prostrate on the floor trying to screw the base bolts in place to keep it upright while Dad watched the game with a lazy hand on a high branch.

"Dad! It's leaning!" Naomi continued to chide and lecture as I unscrewed the bolts and Dad repositioned the tree over and over until it was perfect.

Life was like that sometimes—having to redo things because they just weren't quite straight, like my first several attempts at getting my brokerage firm off the ground. I was a flop for four years in a row, but then I struck gold and ever since, I'd been raking in the money like we raked the leaves in fall.

"There, it's perfect." Mom sat with the wad of tangled lights on her lap, looking up at our Christmas tree with sparkling eyes and a broad smile. She loved every Christmas tradition in her soul the way I loved the sight of more zeroes at the end of my bank account balance. It was no wonder they lived in this little Christmas-obsessed town for so long and refused to give up the home I tried to help them graduate from.

I slid out from under the beast and helped Dad position it in front of the large bay window in the great room of their home. The old place was too sentimental to them to give up. Otherwise, I'd have had them in a much nicer spread uptown where they could be closer to everything. But money only goes so far when the heart is involved. Mom and Dad would let me help them update or renovate to modernize, but they wouldn't move. I respected that.

"There, now can I just get a hoagie and sit and watch football?" I dusted the pine needles off my button-down, and Naomi picked one out of my hair and patted my chest. Her manicured nails were red and green with tiny little cubic zirconia peppered on them. Very festive.

"Nope, you have to do the tree with us. It's tradition." Her wink would have looked playful to any outsider not familiar with my family traditions, but I knew it was a threat. It said, "Miss this and your ass is mine." If Mom was the Christmas Queen, Naomi was the sorceress, able to bring grown men to their knees with a single glance, and I was weak. She was my sister, and as much as I just wanted to relax, I had to participate. I couldn’t let her be disappointed.

"Fine, but I can at least eat while we're doing this, right?" Her insistence on forcing me to continue traditions I had skipped in previous years was her way to hold on to her own childhood for one more year.

She was getting married now, and that meant a new world was beginning. One where new traditions would start and old ones would end. Naomi and Jared would have their own tree now, their own holiday meals. Unlike me. I thought I'd have that at one point, had the ring and was ready to propose too, but it didn’t turn out how I planned and at thirty-six, I was still single and searching.

"Nope again." Naomi picked up a box of ornaments and thrust them into my chest with a grin.

I reluctantly accepted the torture device and resigned myself to the fact that my stomach would be growling a little longer. She plucked a red bulb from the box by the metal hook and walked over to the tree to find the perfect position for it. I followed her, setting the box down on the nearby armchair and taking out an old snow globe marked " 1988 Baby's First Christmas ."

"Aw, Newt, we got that the year you were born." Mom sounded sentimental and sappy, and I hung the ornament next to the one Naomi just placed on the tree. "You know what? We need cocoa! You guys keep going." Mom shot out of her chair and the lights fell to the ground.

Naomi chuckled and turned to get another ornament.

"So, you're getting married, huh?" I asked, taking several smaller ornaments in hand to minimize the time I was stuck doing this. As I hung them, Naomi and I chatted.

"Yeah, we are. And actually, I wanted to talk to you about that." Her eyes caught the movement of my hand as I hung a popsicle stick ornament she made when she was in elementary school. "Aw, that was my favorite year." The sticks had been painted brown and were glued together in the shape of a deer, decorated with pipe cleaners and beads.

"Yeah? What about?" I hung the ornament and a few more, spacing them out. Each one brought up some sort of memory of the past for me or for her.

"Yeah, well Jared's best friend is stationed in Japan and there's no way he's getting leave on this short notice." She turned to face me, biting her lower lip. "So I suggested that we ask you to be the best man."

Naomi stopped abruptly and waited while I let the request sink in. Best man duties weren't for the faint of heart. There would be tuxedo fittings, talking him down—usually with alcoholic drinks—when he got frustrated with the bride's demands, cake tastings, and the all-important bachelor party. I wasn't sure I even knew Jared well enough to be his best man.

"I don't know, Nomie," I told her, using the nickname I gave her when she was just four years old and I was fifteen and forced to babysit her. With eleven years between us in age, we had nothing in common for so long, I didn't know where to begin. I knew her best friend was a twin—Jade and Amber. Their names always made me think their father was a jeweler, but he was just a farrier who got paid really well. And I knew even less about Jared, who had only been in Naomi's life for the past two years. I met him exactly three times.

"Come on, Newt," she pleaded, hanging an average round bulb ornament. "Jare doesn’t have anyone. And you know me inside and out. Pretend you're my best man, and I'll make sure you and Mav can handle things. Jare and I will make it easy on you by combining everything except the part with my dress. Okay?" She grabbed my free hand and held it and shook from the waist up like a toddler demanding her sippy cup.

"Look, I have a multimillion-dollar business to run, Naomi. I have to be in Chicago tomorrow. As it is, I stole this time away from my work to come here and support you when you made your announcement." I was flattered by the idea of being asked, considering I had relatively no friends of my own, but I was in the middle of a few really important projects. I didn’t have anyone to run things for me when I wasn't around.

The work I was in was cutthroat and competitive. I was alone at the top for good reason. I had trusted one too many people only to get burned, which only added insult to injury when Val did what she did and our relationship ended so abruptly. There was zero chance I'd be asked to be someone else's best man. My high-school friends were already married, and none of them had extended the offer because I ditched this small town and aimed for the stars as soon as I threw my graduation cap in the air that day.

"Newt, please. You run the company. You can take a few days off to drive home." Her begging wouldn't stop until I gave her the answer she wanted. I knew that much. I just didn’t know how to let her down gently. I didn't even know Jared that well. I didn’t want to play best man.

"Or you can stay here, work remotely," Mom said as she walked back into the room. It was obvious she had been eavesdropping on the conversation. Meanwhile, Dad was sitting across the room with the game volume off so I couldn't even listen and enjoy it.

"You two ladies are persistent, I'll give you that." I reached for the tray of mugs Mom carried and selected the largest one loaded with mallows and drizzled in chocolate sauce. "Mmm, Mom, you make the best cocoa."

"She'll make it every day if you say yes." Naomi's hands folded together in front of her face as if she were saying a prayer, and I rolled my eyes as I sipped the hot winter drink.

"Fine," I grumbled, realizing this meant my December looked more like the end of fiscal year than the merry holiday time it was supposed to be. Naomi threw her arms around me and giggled while I was already busy planning how I would manage my clients and tasks remotely. It wouldn't be impossible, but it would be challenging, and I'd have to drive into the city several times, too.

Now if "Mav"—whichever twin that was—could pull her weight, that'd work out for the best. I just hoped it wasn't the more brightly colored twin. I knew Naomi's personality and style so I didn't assume it was. And I knew one of them was dating and one was single, but not which. But at least I could tell them apart.