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Tom woke up the next morning to someone stepping on his foot.
“Sorry!” Julie said.
He didn’t reply. It had been less painful than when she’d stepped on him yesterday.
Half an hour later, he was sitting at her desk when she returned from the washroom after her shower, wearing a pink sweater that looked incredibly soft. So soft that he nearly reached out to touch it.
She looked at his tie and rolled her eyes.
He didn’t tell her that he was wearing a tie just to get on her nerves. He took his turn in the washroom, then they headed downstairs together.
“Oh, look!” she said as they walked into the living room. “My parents got stockings for you and Mike.”
There were four stockings hanging above the fireplace. Two Mickey and Minnie Mouse ones, which he suspected were for Julie and Charlotte. Probably the same ones they’d had for thirty years. The other two had a more sober holly and ivy pattern.
Truth be told, he was feeling pretty good this morning. Usually on Christmas, he’d drive to his parents’ house for dinner, but before then, he was on his own. There was no Christmas tree, no stockings.
He lifted one of the holly and ivy stockings. “How do I know if this is mine or Mike’s?”
“It doesn’t matter. They’re all the same.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for other people?”
“No, we’re always allowed to open these when we wake up.”
He wasn’t sure why she led him into the kitchen, but when he saw what was in his stocking, he understood.
It was all fruit. Clementines, oranges, kiwis and persimmons. Even a dragon fruit.
“When I was a kid,” Julie said, “I thought there was a big greenhouse at the North Pole because we always got fruit in our stockings.”
“But there would be twenty-four-hour darkness at the North Pole at Christmastime. Might be hard for fruit to grow in such conditions. Or would there be special lights—”
“Tom!” She gave him a gentle shove, and he rather enjoyed it. Kidding around with her. Participating in someone else’s Christmas traditions.
“I bet you never believed in Santa Claus,” she said. “I bet you’d walk down the stairs calmly on Christmas morning, even as a six-year-old, wearing pressed pants and a tie.”
“You really lack imagination, you know that?”
“Don’t you dare accuse me of lacking imagination. I thought there was a greenhouse at the North Pole. And my job involves being creative.”
Her job making jewelry. Right.
He lifted the snowflake pendant from around her neck. “It’s very detailed.”
“Yes, I’m capable of being meticulous, Tom.”
They were veering off course.
“I never said you weren’t.” He put her necklace down, his fingers briefly brushing against her skin. “I like it.”
“You don’t need to say such things just because—”
“I mean it. I do like it. I don’t have that talent and skill. I’m sure it took time to learn how to make such things.”
She nodded, and the moment stretched on for a few beats longer than was comfortable. His gaze was focused on the snowflake...and, okay, maybe on her cleavage, too.
“Now let’s eat our fruit!” she said with excessive enthusiasm. “I always sneak some treats on Christmas morning as well.”
He started peeling a clementine while she made coffee and brought over a plate loaded with a variety of cookies and a few pieces of fudge.
“Dig in,” she said. “Or is having cookies at eight in the morning too scandalous for you?”
“I’m not as stuck-up as you imagine.” He reached for a shortbread cookie.
When Julie licked the juice from an orange off her fingers, he was entranced by that simple action. What would it feel like to have her tongue—
“I smell coffee.” Julie’s sister walked into the kitchen, closely followed by her boyfriend.
Tom stilled, feeling like he’d been caught being naughty, which was unusual for him. But he’d merely been admiring his fake girlfriend. Getting into his role, that was all.
Nothing to feel guilty about.
And to get deeper into his role, he wiped an imaginary crumb off Julie’s cheek.
* * *
Later in the morning, after Bonnie and Albert had put the chickens in the oven, it was time to open presents. But first, Bonnie insisted on showing Tom all the decorations on the tree that Julie had made as a child. These included a clear plastic sphere with a cotton ball snowman inside, a horse made of wine bottle corks and colorful yarn, and a starfish reindeer.
“When we were on holidays, we saw Santa ornaments made of starfish,” Bonnie said. “Julie said she wanted to make some herself, so we bought starfish, but because she wanted to be different, she painted a reindeer instead.” She smiled as she touched the bottom of the ornament.
“I always thought it was funny-looking,” Charlotte said. “Like Rudolph fell off a roof and went splat on his back.”
Julie stuck out her tongue at her sister.
“Now I will select the first round of presents,” Bonnie said. “One for each person.”
Tom’s heart beat in time to the unfamiliar Christmas song in the background as Bonnie placed a present wrapped in solid red paper on Julie’s lap. There were two boxes, in fact, held together with green ribbon.
That was his gift for Julie.
“Ah, very sharp edges,” Bonnie said. “Nice wrapping job. And this is a nice red color.”
“See, my mom really loves you,” Julie said. “She’s even impressed by your wrapping skills.”
“Maybe he had it done at the store,” Albert said.
“No, I did it myself,” Tom said. “I used to wrap presents at the mall during the holiday season for extra money.”
That job had frayed his nerves. Why did so many people leave their shopping until the last minute? Why couldn’t they be organized and orderly?
The environment had been far from ideal, but Tom hadn’t minded the actual wrapping.
“I didn’t know that,” Julie said, then immediately started tearing open the paper.
Whereas he’d always neatly pull the tape off the paper. It made him cringe to see her ripping his neat wrapping job, even though the paper would be thrown out—unless her parents saved wrapping paper, like his mother used to do.
“This box is fairly light.” Julie held the first one in the palm of her hand, then opened it up. “I have no idea what this could be...oh!”
He’d gotten what Bridget had suggested: some hand-dyed variegated yarn. Apparently, Julie enjoyed knitting while watching TV, but she would never get anything like this for herself because it was expensive.
Indeed, it had been far from cheap. He hadn’t known yarn could cost so much. But it was lovely, he had to admit. Two hanks were vibrant pink and purple; the others were blue and green.
Her lips curved up as she lovingly stroked the first hank of yarn. It was just yarn to him, but it seemed to make her happy, and that warmed something inside his logical heart.
“Thank you,” she said at last, then leaned forward. Her lips approached his, and...
She kissed his cheek, and he breathed out a sigh of disappointment.
No, relief.
It was definitely relief.
“I’ll make you a scarf.” She held the yarn up to his neck. “What do you think?”
“A pink and purple scarf?” Albert said skeptically.
“Men can wear pink and purple.” Julie scowled. “Why not? It suits your eyes, Tom.”
Charlotte snorted. “He has the same eye color as the rest of us.”
“Wah, be quiet!” Bonnie said. “They are in love. People say silly things when they are in love. It’s normal.”
“Love is never going to make me say ‘pineapple on pizza is delicious,’ that’s for sure,” Charlotte muttered.
Tom wanted to protest, too. He would never say silly things while in love. Certainly, he’d never done so before.
But, for the sake of their act, he said, “I’ll wear it if you knit it for me, but I think it would suit you better, Julie.”
To his surprise, he truly meant those words. If she made him a scarf, he’d wear it, even if the colors clashed with the rest of his wardrobe.
It was just because he was into the spirit of Christmas, that was all.
Julie opened up the other box, and from the copious amount of tissue paper, she withdrew two glass vases in different shapes, one purple and one blue.
“For when I get you flowers,” he stammered.
This present had been his idea. He’d figured it was a very girlfriend-appropriate present.
“These are nice,” Bonnie said. “Much better than what Christopher got you.”
“Who’s Christopher?” Tom asked without thinking, feeling his hands clench at his sides.
“A guy I dated a few years ago,” Julie said.
“He gave her an electric toothbrush,” Bonnie said.
“A sensible thing to own,” Tom said, “but not a good Christmas gift for Julie.”
Bonnie beamed at him.
Julie turned to Tom. “I’m sorry I didn’t put a present for you under the tree. I have something, but I, uh, will give it to you in private.”
She didn’t get you anything.
That was okay. He was just her fake boyfriend.
“I look forward to it,” he said solemnly.
“Why is it so private?” Bonnie asked. “Is it dirty?”
“No, I just prefer to do these things when we’re alone,” Julie said.
“Here.” Albert passed a package to Tom. “You can open this one. From us.”
You didn’t have to.
Tom treated the wrapping paper with care, folding it up before opening the box, just to piss Julie off a little.
The box contained two ties. One was a sober checkered pattern that he approved of. The other was a garish Santa Claus tie.
He couldn’t help chuckling. Julie must have told her parents to get him ties.
“These are great,” he said. “Thank you.” He nodded at Bonnie, then Albert.
“You must wear the Santa Claus tie now,” Bonnie said. “Tomorrow, Christmas will be over and it will be too late. Julie, put it on for him.”
“Like this?” She wrapped the Santa Claus tie around her own neck.
“Why are you being so childish?”
Julie reached toward Tom and unknotted the tie he was currently wearing: a sedate green tie. Green because he was trying to be festive.
His breath came rapidly as her fingers brushed his throat. When she began knotting the new tie, he stiffened. He was very particular about his ties, and in his opinion, Julie was not tying it properly. But he kept that comment to himself.
Why was this affecting him so much? He didn’t understand.
And had her nose always been this cute? What on earth made her nose cute?
“There,” she said, patting his shoulder. “Perfect.”
He tucked the tie under his sweater because it looked stupid otherwise, and to his delight, since the top of the tie was black, it was impossible to tell that he was wearing a Santa tie now.
“No, you’re ruining all the fun,” Bonnie said.
“I agree.” Julie’s lips twitched. “Santa must be visible. Take off your shirt.”
He looked at her, wide-eyed, then realized she meant his sweater. She must have said it like that to horrify him.
Since he was a dutiful boyfriend, he removed his sweater.
“Very nice,” Julie murmured. “Now all you need is a pink-and-purple scarf to go with it.”
The idea of such an outfit was an insult to his eyeballs, but he smiled at her and felt a rush of warmth in his chest, which he attributed to holiday spirit.
* * *
Julie’s family never had turkey for Christmas lunch. Or roast beef or ham. Instead, they had roast chickens, served with her mother’s lor mai fun.
“Mmm, my favorite,” Mike said as Mom passed him the sticky rice.
Mom smiled.
But if anything, Tom was getting more attention from her parents than Mike was. Julie couldn’t help feeling proud of that, even though it was probably because they’d known Mike since he was a child and had never met Tom before.
Take that, Charlotte!
It was silly to feel this way, but she couldn’t help it.
And unlike usual, Mom hadn’t brought up Julie’s career—or lack thereof.
Tom really was doing a good job. He was polite, always offering to help, and he’d taken the time to buy her a thoughtful present, one that made it look like he truly knew her. Bridget had likely told him to get the yarn, but still. Julie had been surprised.
Though she shouldn’t be.
How much care did Tom put into other things in his life? Like his relationships. Would he prepare special romantic dinners for a girlfriend? Would he be particularly attentive in bed?
She pinched her lips together. No, she would not think about Tom in bed. She wasn’t attracted to him in that way. He wasn’t bad-looking, but he didn’t really do anything for her.
Though the Santa tie did suit him, and when he reached for the mashed potatoes, she admired his arm.
This was weird.
She was also surprised when he put a dollop of mashed potato next to his sticky rice. She’d have thought that would offend his taste buds.
Yes, her family had mashed potatoes in addition to sticky rice. Because Julie loved mashed potatoes. It was like having dressing and potatoes with turkey, right?
After Julie had finished her second helping of mashed potatoes, Dad brought out the tins of cookies. She was full, but she could make room for shortbread.
“Almost time to go skating?” she asked. Every Christmas afternoon, they went to the ice rink in town, and she’d told Tom to bring skates.
Mom had a mischievous look on her face, and Julie was instantly filled with dread.
“Since both of my daughters now have boyfriends,” Mom said, “I thought it would be fun to do a little competition. See who is the best couple.”
Tom looked at Julie, as if to say, You didn’t warn me about this.
“What do we have to do?” Mike asked.
Mom beamed. “It’s a gingerbread house competition.”