Scrooge

18. Haylee

18

HAYLEE

W ith our Thanksgiving meal all but finished, we all sit around the table, feeling full, content, and a little sleepy. I overate. I always do, and now my jeans are feeling tighter than they were only an hour ago. But Mom’s turkey is amazing, and then there’re the green beans, stuffing, potatoes, and don’t even get me started on the gravy.

“Okay, who’s going first?” my dad asks, looking around at each of us, our annual tradition kicking off. I see Alex out of the corner of my eye looking confused.

“Oh, me!” my nephew Charlie shouts. He is a bit of a firecracker, but I love him and am interested in hearing what the kids are most thankful for.

“Okay, shoot,” Dad says, grinning. It is contagious, and we all look at Charlie with a smile.

“I am most grateful for shiny shoes!” he says with a bounce in his seat. Mom looks at me, wondering what hell he is talking about. I have no idea.

“It’s Thanksgiving. You need to be thankful for more than just your shoes,” Jillian half scolds him as I feel Alex shift a little next to me.

“But I like shiny shoes. I can see my face in them,” he says, leaning forward like he is telling a secret to the whole table.

“My turn!” my niece Kendall says, butting in.

“This year, I am most grateful for… my special pumpkin lamp from Mom and Aunt Haylee. I haven’t had one nightmare since I got it,” she says, proud as punch.

“I am glad, sweetheart,” I tell her, smiling.

“Jillian?” Dad prods.

“I am grateful for family. This year has been busy and some parts tough, but we all got through it together.” Jillian looks at me as she, Mom, and Dad all send me what looks like a bit of sorrow in their expressions. I take a big breath and grab my ear, feeling a bit uncomfortable. We all know this year has been tough, predominantly because I dated a man who preferred to use his fists rather than his words, and I hate that I made them all so worried with my horrible choice in a partner. With my chest aching, I look at Alex, who is watching me inquisitively, and give him a smile before Dad clears his throat, grabbing our attention.

“Haylee?” he prompts.

“Well…” I say, looking up at Alex. “I am grateful for meeting Alex.” It is true, he wouldn’t be here if we didn’t have a legal agreement and a role to play. But he could have easily shut Tucker Toys down, and he didn’t. He could easily be a total asshole to me, and he isn’t. He could easily try to take advantage of our situation, and he doesn’t. Besides, now that I have gotten to know him, I actually really like him. “I have learned a lot from our short time together, and I am grateful that our paths crossed and we get to spend this holiday together.” I smile wide, genuinely meaning my words, and I see him swallow harshly, looking uncomfortable.

“Alex. Would you like to say anything you are thankful for this year?” my dad asks him, and he nods.

“I think it is no secret that I am many things…” he starts, and Jillian snorts as she takes a gulp of red wine. I give her a death stare. “But a little while ago, a young woman ran into me in the street… having a seizure or something…” He mutters the last bit quietly so only I can hear, and I huff a laugh.

“Haylee, you have opened up my world, day by day, bit by bit…” he says, turning fully to face me, and I hold my breath, wondering where he is going with this. It feels so real, the affection he’s looking at me with, the kind words he’s speaking. It is hard to decipher now what is and what isn’t for show, the lines starting to blur. Now as we all sit around the old, chipped, yellow melamine table, with the mismatched old vinyl chairs, our little game of what are we thankful for has taken a more serious tone.

“I am thankful to have met you and spent time with you, and…” He clears his throat and pushes out his chair, and I am confused for a moment before I see him drop to a knee. I think I almost faint, my head spinning at what I know is about to happen. I hear Jillian and Mom both gasp as my heart stutters, then starts to race.

“So…” he continues quietly, looking up at me as he pulls out a black velvet box from his pocket and opens it. My eyes flick to it, the largest diamond I have ever seen in real life glittering before me. The oval shape is beautiful and glistening, and I might vomit. It is what I’ve always wanted. A man who loves me for me. A man who is my person. But I swallow hard before my gaze flicks to Jillian who has an I told you so look on her face. She was right. I didn’t think this through. No one has ever proposed to me before, and now he has, and I know it is fake, and I feel like crying. I quickly glance at Mom and Dad, seeing their happy but surprised faces before I look back at Alex. My fake smile almost cuts my face in half because I am going to kill him.

“Would you do me the honor of being my wife?” As he says the words I knew were coming, I hear Mom gasp once more, and then Jillian snorts, and while I am not looking at her, I think her red wine spilled over her lips a little. My dad, on the other hand, remains silent, gobsmacked. I feel a mix of emotions from initial surprise to immense happiness to a little sadness, before I roll my shoulders back and put on my Oscar-winning performance.

“Yes! Yes, I will marry you!” I gush, my hands covering my face, acting the perfect part as he takes the ring from the box. Bile rises from doing this in front of my parents, and I push it down as he grabs my hand and slips the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly and is breathtakingly beautiful. Before he gives my hand back, he brings it to his lips and kisses my knuckles and then stands.

“Oh my God, Alex.” I feel like I’m in an alternate universe. Like I am almost viewing this from outside of my body, the kids squeal and cheer, my mom jumps up and tells Dad to grab the good wine from the back of the pantry, and they both run into the kitchen together. I stand next to Alex, taking his hand, feeling a little woozy.

“Better kiss that fiancé of yours,” Jillian prods from where she sits, looking less than impressed.

“We don’t—” I start to deny it. Mom and Dad aren’t here, so we don’t have to kiss at all.

“Oh, you do.” Jillian is adamant, and I swallow uncomfortably. “Wait, let me get the shot.” As she pulls out her phone, I look up at Alex.

“It’s alright, Sunflower,” he murmurs, as his hand skirts to my lower back, his thumb rubbing, the move making me feel a little more at ease. This whole thing is weird. I thought our fake happiness would sting less than it does. I try to keep a brave face, but all I feel is disappointment. Disappointment that it’s not real. But then I feel his other hand slip around the other side of my waist, and he pulls me toward him. My heart thuds dangerously loud at being this close to him. I lift onto my tiptoes, and he pulls me tightly to him. I am warm, feel safe, yet my grip on reality is wavering.

“Are we really doing this?” I ask quietly as I grip on to his firm biceps.

“Looks like it,” he murmurs, looking from my eyes to my lips and starting to lean down.

“Okay,” I whisper as I raise my hand to cup his face and his lips meet mine. At the soft contact, I feel like I am being carried off to sea. My other hand trails up his arm, the firm muscle now hard against my palm before I loop it around the back of his neck and he holds on to me tighter. His lips move tenderly against mine, slowly, deliberately, and while the kids are still cheering and squealing and running around, and Jillian sits right in front of us, watching our display of love, it all fades into the background.

Alex’s hands spread across my back, his fingers digging into me, pulling me impossibly closer, as his tongue edges along my lips. I immediately open for him, tasting a mix of whiskey and cranberry, which is just as intoxicating as the feeling of kissing him. My eyes are closed, lost in the moment. I’m completely gone.

And it is at this moment I know. This is not fake. This is very, very real.