Page 12

“Go to his house, eat, leave?”

“Yeah, but, like…???”

“Like what?”

“The universe delivered you a hot, single doctor who has a prescreened penis and a family who likes you.”

I cackled.

“What?” she said. “It is. You already know you like it.”

“It ended for a reason, Celine.” I was still cracking up.

“Okay, but it’s been nine years.”

“Is there a statute of limitations for betrayal? Also, I don’t know that he’s single. He could be married with kids for all I know.”

“Does he have a ring on?”

“No. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

“He’s pretending to be your boyfriend. Either he’s single or he’s an asshole. Please find out which one.”

“Ha.” I rubbed my forehead. “So how’s your day going?”

“Good. At my aunt’s for a Christmas thing. Trolling my racist, homophobic cousins. My purpose on this earth. My sister got another piercing and my grandma did a whole rosary over it.”

“And how are your parents?” I asked.

“On their third marriage. To each other.”

I raised my head. “What? When did this happen?”

“Three weeks ago, apparently. They just announced it. It was a champagne toast in red Solo cups in the middle of Monopoly. I need to start bringing my therapist to holidays. It takes way too long to recap.”

I laughed, happy to have the momentary distraction.

Brake lights in front of me brought me back around. We were pulling up to a house I didn’t know.

“I have to go. I think we’re here,” I said, putting the car in park.

“Text me with updates. I’m serious.”

“I will.”

I hung up and turned off the engine, looking at the home that was completely foreign but that I could have picked out as a Todd family property in a lineup.

His family loved Christmas. They decorated for it the day after Halloween and they went all out. Their light show was legendary. Jeremy’s dad was a sound and audio engineer. He’d synchronize the lights to the Christmas music they’d play. It was like a holiday rave you could see from space.

Jeremy waited for me to get unbuckled before he opened my door for me.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, getting out.

He let me go first and I stopped on the sidewalk to look at the lights. He stood next to me with his hands in his pockets.

I glanced at him. He looked wounded. Like he hadn’t recovered from the conversation we’d had in the hallway before we left. I hadn’t either.

“Your dad got more lights,” I said, watching them dance to “Carol of the Bells.”