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“I’m not aprude, either,” I said. “But you’d never speak to me again if I dated your dad, and you know it.”
“I’m just kidding, man. Also, just because I’m a tech bro with a fancy haircut now doesn’t mean I’ve suddenly become uptight. I’m a hippie at heart, always and forever. Anything goes.”
“Right, right.”
“Not that my dad would ever actually dateyou, in reality—”
“Excuse me?” I interjected. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Justin laughed again. “Offended much, Case?”
“Shut up.”
“You’ll see, if you hang out with him a little bit on Christmas. He’s so old school. He’d probably think I’d freak out if he even gave you a glance. I don’t give a damn what he does, as long as he’s happy.”
If only you knew, I thought.
“I know you want him to be happy,” I reassured him.
“He did say he was looking at dating apps a few months ago. I don’t know. I’m sure he’ll find someone soon.”
I pulled in a long breath of cold air as I rounded the corner onto my quiet street. “I’ll give him cinnamon rolls and a little bit of company on Christmas night. Text me the name of the bakery.”
“You’re a godsend, Case.”
“It’ll be fun for me, too. No big deal.”
Maybe it would actually turn out to be true. Maybe it would be nice to have a bookend for my memories with Rome that wasn’t laced with so much heartache.
I could be a friend to him. Not some failed hookup.
All I had to do was show up, give him some cinnamon rolls, and remind him that he wasn’t alone.
I could control my desires foronenight, on Christmas.
Easy.
10
ROME
I had the day plotted out perfectly. I knew I was going to have to fill my time this Christmas, keeping myself busy so that I wouldn’t dwell on the fact that Justin was away, I was on my own, and I had no plans with any other family.
The plan went great, until it didn’t.
The early hours of the day were easy, with making my own Christmas roast, lighting candles around the house, and calling up distant relatives to wish them well. During the afternoon, I stayed busy outside while the roast was in the oven, finally shoveling the bunches of snow that had fallen over the last couple of days, and clearing out my front path and sidewalk. Dinner was amazing, and I ate even better than I usually did when my son was around.
It was nighttime when everything all went haywire.
I drank too much wine, and then made the mistake of switching to whiskey. The problem wasn’t that it felt bad—the problem was that it felt toogood, sinking into the warm embrace of tipsiness then drunkenness as seven-thirty rolled around.
When the carolers came down my street, a creeping sense of loneliness seeped in and quickly took hold of the evening.
One moment I was fine and the next I was looking out the window at the gorgeous lights and blanket of snow outside, wondering why I was alone as the sounds of O Come All Ye Faithful floated down the street.
Somewhere in that time, as I was wondering if I should sayscrew itand go to bed early, my phone vibrated.
>>Casey: Hey, stranger. You at home?
