Page 64 of Snow Globe Secrets

“Go on! Say it! Fuck that guy.”

“Fuck that guy,” he let out with much less enthusiasm than I had.

“Okay, now say: Stephanie and Martin Lessand are my family.”

“Austin …”

“Alright, alright. We’ll work on that one. You know, supporting my interests means you’re going to have to get a Christmas tree and some decorations, and listen to Mariah, and watch romantic holiday movies.”

He was saying “ridiculous” before I’d even finished my sentence.

How much did I love listening to Randall chuckle as I backed the car out of the beach parking lot and headed to my parents’ house?

We were quiet for the drive home. I shut off the car in the driveway, but we both just sat there, staring at the Christmas tree in the window.

“Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you see the present I left you in the shaving kit?”

Randall tapped my forearm. “I cannot believe you brought that thing into your parents’ house.” He laughed, and I joined in. “And I don’t see how you can call it a present since you stole it from me in the first place!”

“Did you use it?”

“You know full well I did not use it.” Randall continued to laugh as we exited the car and entered the house to find my mom putting her coat on.

“Oh! Hi, you two. I thought you were with Dalton, and you were with Marty?”

“And I thought you had a meeting,” I countered.

“Done!” she exclaimed. “Figured I’d get the grocery shopping done before dinner. Are we still meeting at the Three B’s later?” Mom checked her phone as if expecting it to answer that question.

“Yeah. Dalt and I ran into Dad and Randall on the boardwalk. We left him at the restaurant.”

“My fault, I’m afraid,” Randall confessed. “I need to get some work done myself, so Austin offered to bring me back a bit before dinner.”

Mom looked around the driveway. “In your vehicle?”

“Easier for me to drive. I know my way around!” Which was true. I waved my shopping bag in her face. “And I’ve got presents to wrap.” Also true.

“Alright,” she said skeptically. “You boys need anything from the store?”

“No, thank you,” Randall responded as I talked over him to say, “A case of IPA.”

Mom looked at me quizzically. “We’ve got beer in the fridge.”

I walked Mom to her car, surprised to find Randall standing near the stairs waiting for me when I entered the house, his coat draped over his arm.

I closed the door behind me, dropping my package on the table in the foyer. We faced each other, listening as my mother’s car drove off.

I stood my ground, and Randall took a step toward me. He stopped in his tracks when I said, “You’re supposed to be working.”

“And you’re supposed to be out with your ex, but here we are.”

I walked past Randall and started up the steps. “My friend,” I said as I passed him. “I was out with my friend. A friend who was not, by the way, trying to set me up with some other guy.”

Randall was behind me on the steps. “Turner was rather handsome,” he teased.