“How’s your sexy truck-driving handyman?”
I give an expansive eye roll even though Natalie can’t see me. “You always make me regret telling you things.”
She cackles on the other end of the phone. “Okay, but seriously, have you seen him again?”
Despite making up my mind not to volunteer any information to Natalie—I’ve never been the type to kiss and tell, although tabloids and celebrity news shows love to do it for me—I knew she’d quiz me and I’d end up telling her about Liam. Ever since I did, it’s one of the first things she asks every time we talk.
“I saw him last night,” I tell her. She makes a little squeaking sound and draws in a breath, likely to ask completely inappropriate questions, so I forge ahead. “I watched his nephew for a while yesterday and he picked him up last night. That was it. Can we please talk about something else?”
There’s a pause, during which I can picture the wheels in Natalie’s brain turning as she contemplates pursuing this line of conversation or changing the subject. Finally, she says, “Okay, fine. Ooh, I know! Did you hear your feud with Selma Melissa Graham has made it back into the rumor mill? Apparently you two were overheard arguing about a movie role last week at that new restaurant downtown.”
I roll my eyes again and pair it with a loud groan as I flop back on the couch. “That’s a really neat trick, considering I’ve been a couple hundred kilometers away from Toronto for almost two weeks.”
Selma Melissa Graham and I have been in each other’s orbits for most of our careers. As child actors who stood the test of time, that means most of our lives. We’re not exactly friends, but we’ve always liked and respected each other. The press, however, likes to pit us against each other since we’ve often been up for the same roles and we’ve never starred in anything together, which obviously means we hate each other.
“I know, right? So ridiculous.” There’s a series of beeps on Nat’s end, telling me she’s either been on the treadmill this whole time and I was unaware or she’s getting on now. “Anyway. Anything fun happening in Honeybee Corners this weekend?”
“Ummm…” I drag out the word as I debate whether to tell Nat about the Christmas kick-off in town later today. And the fact I’m planning to go.
“Don’t tell me,” she says. “Some sort of winter carnival? Or a Santa Claus parade? Maybe a festival of some sort? Small towns like that are known for their festivals. Oh! Are they doing something in your honor? Officially crowning you the Queen of Christmas?”
“Sometimes I honestly wonder why I’m even friends with you, Natalie Huang,” I say, chuckling despite myself.
“Because I keep life interesting, darling,” she says in a lofty faux-British accent. “Oh shoot, I have to run. I’ll talk to you soon, okay? Love you!”
I barely have time to say a quick “love you too” before the call disconnects. She wasn’t wrong about keeping life interesting.
*****
As I approach Town Square for the tree lighting ceremony, I feel as if I’ve stumbled through a barrier between real life and fiction. I could easily be walking onto a set from one of my movies, except there are no cameras or crew members rigging up lights and sound equipment. And the lightly falling snow sticking to my wool jacket and eyelashes? One hundred percent authentic—no snow machine in sight.
Glittering lights are wound around every available surface, illuminating the square so much it almost feels like the middle of the afternoon instead of a few hours after sunset. Food and drink stalls are set up with large signs that announce all proceeds from sales will go to the community center. A group of carol singers dressed in Victorian garb wander around the square. And, of course, there’s the pièce de résistance: an enormous spruce tree taking pride of place in the center of the square, waiting to have its lights turned on and officially kick off the holiday season in Honeywell.
The scene leaves me practically slack jawed; I’ve witnessed sights like this countless times on movie sets, but they have nothing on real life.
“Is this real life?” I mutter to myself when a child dressed like an elf dashes past me, the bells on his shoes jingling merrily.
When movement flashes in the corner of my eye, I expect another elf to run past. At this point, I wouldn’t even be surprised if a group of them appeared, followed by Santa and a herd of reindeer. Instead, a small blur approaches at top speed, nearly knocking me backward as a pair of arms lock around my waist.
“You came!” Rex squeezes me with more strength than I’d expect from an eight-year-old.
“I told you I would.” I rest my hand on top of his head, ruffling his soft, thick hair. “This all looks incredible. I’m glad you convinced me to come.”
“Just wait, it gets even better.” Rex loosens his grip enough to ease his head back. His smile is as bright as the twinkle lights all around us.
“Joss. You came.”
This time the words don’t come in a high pitch of childlike excitement. The warmth of Liam’s voice near my ear has my body flushing despite the chilly temperatures. He comes to a stop beside me, the sleeve of his puffy black jacket brushing mine as he reaches out to put a red knitted bobble hat on Rex’s head. When I finally gather the courage to look at him, my tense muscles relax at the sight of the matching hat covering his dark hair.
“Not a word,” he says. “Mrs. Murphy made them for us. I’m sure it won’t be long before you’re the proud owner of your own hat.”
“I’ll tell her to make it red to match ours,” Rex says. He bounces on his toes as something across the square catches his attention. “Can I go get a pretzel?”
After handing Rex a five-dollar bill and watching him run off, Liam turns to me. “Thank you for coming. I know you came to Honeywell to get away from all this, but it means a lot to Rex to have you here. And to me.”
“The smile on Rex’s face makes it worth it.”
Liam’s lips lift in a half smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “He makes everything worth it.”
I may not know Liam well, but I can sense his energy is different tonight. His eyes are tired and, despite telling me he’s glad I’m here, it wasn’t with his usual light, almost-teasing, flirty tone. “You okay?”
“Oh, yeah.” His eyes are on Rex across the square. He inhales slowly and nods once as if deciding something. “Actually, no, not really. My sister is struggling right now. I can’t get into the specifics here with most of the town present…” He pauses, smiling and inclining his head at an older couple who are shuffling by, arms linked. He’s about to speak again when a woman waves at him from nearby. His smile stays plastered in place, but he sighs softly as he waves back.
“Nice of the townspeople to illustrate your point for you.” My words have the desired effect, turning his forced smile into a genuine one.
“Yeah, they’re good about stuff like that,” he says, laughing under his breath. He angles his body toward me; he’s only a few inches taller than I am, so his face is close to mine. “For a whole host of reasons, I’ve been trying to convince Thea to look for another job. She has a bunch of excuses: the bar needs her with the holidays coming, she needs money for Christmas, Rex is outgrowing his clothes too fast. She has an iron will and won’t do anything unless she wants to, and right now what she wants to do is work…and drink.”
I nod slowly, unsure how to respond. Saying ‘I’m sorry’ sounds trite, although I am sorry. Being in show business, I’ve watched my share of people I care about struggle with addiction. I can’t imagine going through it with a family member. Liam is a fixer by nature, so it must be torture for him to feel so helpless. And then, of course, there’s Rex.
“She knows she has a problem.” Liam’s voice is all but a whisper now and he’s talking fast as the square gets more crowded. He said he wouldn’t go into specifics, but the pain in his eyes makes me suspect he’s desperate to get all this off his chest. “She’s promised me countless times she’d get help. She told me today she’d go to rehab after the holidays. Even though she’s told me that before and never followed through, I reassured her I’ll be here for her no matter what and will do whatever I can to help.”
“You’re a good brother, Liam.” I lay my hand on his arm and he reaches up immediately to cover it with his own.
“I try,” he says with a faint smile. “She doesn’t like to be around Rex when she’s like this—she doesn’t want him to see her struggling. It’s confusing for him, though. He loves being with me and Nathan and the Murphys, but this is a busy time of year for all of us, plus we’re no substitute for his mom. He needs us, though, so we all have to rally and be there for him.”
He gives a weary exhale and removes his hand from mine to scrub it over his face. “Anyway, this is supposed to be a happy occasion, not an opportunity for me to unload on you.”
“I don’t mind,” I tell him. “And I meant what I said last night: Rex can hang out with me anytime.”
“You’re here for a holiday, not to help a bunch of dysfunctional people you barely know.”
I wave off his words. “Rex and I get along great. I never thought I’d have so much in common with an eight-year-old. And while I may not be a great cook, I can pop frozen pizzas and chicken nuggets into the oven with the best of them.”
Liam’s eyes narrow as he scrutinizes my face. After a moment, he says, “It wouldn’t be every day or anything. He’s in school until mid-December, and the center will be open two or three afternoons a week, so he’ll do his usual after school program on those days. Nathan, Mae, and I will watch him whenever we can. But…it would be helpful to have a backup. And he’s crazy about you.”
“Well, the feeling is completely mutual.”
Liam stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets and rocks backs on his heels, surveying the crowd. “Thanks,” he says, without looking at me. “For listening and for not judging. I don’t want you to think less of Thea. She’s a good person and she…she does the best she can for Rex.”
I want to tell him I understand. My situation wasn’t the same as Rex’s, but I know what it feels like to be low on the priority list. To feel forgotten or like I don’t matter. I’m more than four times Rex’s age and I can attest to the fact abandonment issues run deep and leave a lasting mark. We’ve had enough serious talk for one night, though, so I say, “I’m happy to listen anytime, just like I’m happy to help with Rex. I mean that.”
Liam nods, his gaze back to sweeping over the crowd. When his eyes finally return to mine, the light of humor I’ve grown accustomed to has returned. “You realize this will mean we’ll be seeing more of each other.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say. “We’ll be like ships passing in the night. You dropping off and picking up Rex. Me meeting you somewhere to take him back to my place.”
“Me thanking you by taking you out to dinner. You inviting me in for a snowflake cookie or two when I pick up Rex…”
I laugh. “You’re incorrigible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Rex zooms over to us, a half-eaten soft pretzel dangling from his mitten-clad fingers. “They’re about to start!” He wraps the giant pretzel in a handful of bedraggled napkins and shoves it into one of his uncle’s coat pockets, despite Liam’s protests. Liam’s grumbling dies when Rex takes his hand and then turns to me, giving me a smile that completely melts my heart as he reaches for my hand. I can’t remember ever being that innocent and trusting.
Liam and I lock gazes over Rex’s head. I only have a moment to contemplate the soft, grateful smile on his face before Rex tugs on our hands and pulls us through the crowd toward the tree. I half listen to the mayor’s speech about the community and the approaching holiday season. Most of my attention is on the Honeywell residents around me, ranging from families to couples to groups of teens. Everyone else is listening intently to Madam Mayor, their faces practically glowing with happiness and anticipation. Just like I don’t remember ever being as innocent and trusting as Rex, I also don’t remember ever feeling such palpable excitement.
Mae sidles up behind us, planting her hands on Rex’s shoulders and shooting me a grin. “You ready?”
I snap out of my daze and turn my attention to the mayor, who’s now standing in front of a giant red button and leading a countdown. I get swept up in the moment, calling out numbers along with everyone else. As the shout of “one!” rings through the crowd, the mayor hits the button and the tree illuminates with thousands of colored lights.
I’m instantly embarrassed by the quiet gasp that escapes me. I didn’t expect to have any reaction—I’ve been in countless tree-lighting-ceremony scenes in movies—and I certainly didn’t expect to be filled with awe at the sight before me. Thankfully, the sound is swallowed by all the other gasps and exclamations around me. Rex lets out a cheer, dropping Liam’s and my hands so he can alternately clap and wave his arms.
“Spectacular, isn’t it?” Mae asks. “Each year, I can’t imagine it being any better than the year before, and yet the town never fails to outdo itself.”
“It’s really something,” I murmur, eyes still glued to the tree. When my gaze finally swings to meet hers, she has that knowing look I’ve come to expect.
I anticipate a comment about how I’ve fallen under the Honeywell spell. Instead, she tilts her head to the side, and I follow the motion to see Liam standing a few feet away, holding Rex in his arms so the little boy has a better view of the tree.
“I had the strongest sense of déjà vu a few minutes ago.” Mae shifts closer to me, speaking quietly even though most people have moved closer to the tree. “Rex looks just like Liam did at that age. Nathan’s mom and I were best friends, and we always took the kids to as many events as we could. We loved Liam like one of our own and did all we could to make sure he didn’t miss out on anything. All these years later, it breaks my heart to see history repeating itself with Thea and Rex.”
Between the soft glow from the Christmas tree lights and Mae’s proximity, I notice the dark circles under her eyes for the first time. I think back to what Rex said about Mr. Murphy being sick. That must be a lot to contend with on top of running Sweet Escapes and helping with Rex. On impulse, I put my arm around her shoulders. Despite the slight lift of her brows, she doesn’t hesitate to shuffle closer and loop one of her arms around my waist.
“Rex has so many people who love him,” I say. “And he and Liam have you. I may be new here, but it doesn’t take an expert to see how much Liam loves and respects you. And appreciates you.”
Mae’s chin trembles. “I still love him like my own, you know. Rex too.” She straightens suddenly and plasters on a smile. Rex barrels over a second later, throwing his arms around both of us.
“Isn’t the tree beautiful? I told Uncle Liam I want that many lights on our tree, but he said the house couldn’t handle it. He said I can come look at this one whenever I want, and he said he’d put as many lights on ours as he can. Are you ready to go inside for the movie?”
I’m not sure the kid took a single breath between sentences. It takes my brain a few beats to catch up with everything he said. Mae must be used to it because she replies right away. “No movie for me tonight, I’m afraid. I need to get home to Mr. Murphy.”
Rex’s disappointment only lasts a second before he perks back up. “Will you take a picture of me in front of the tree and show it to him? And tell him I miss him and I love him and I’ll come see him soon so we can finish reading The Lightning Thief together?”
“Absolutely. You go find the perfect spot to pose while I say good night to Joss and your uncle.”
As Rex runs off through the thinning crowd toward the tree, Liam gives Mae a long, tight hug. “Give Murph my love too,” he says. “Tell him I’ll be over to visit in a day or two.”
“I will.” Mae pats Liam’s cheek and follows it with a quick kiss. She kisses my cheek next. “Take care of each other and that sweet boy.” Her gaze moves to find Rex; she lets out a little laugh when she spots him hopping up and down and waving her over. “Speaking of that sweet boy, I’d better go take his picture. I’ll see you two soon.”
When she’s gone, Liam crosses his arms over his chest and releases a quiet sigh.
“What’s wrong with Mr. Murphy?” I ask.
A muscle clenches in his jaw. “Cancer. He’s been sick for a while now. Took treatment, but it wasn’t working and was making him feel like shit, so he stopped.”
Laughter catches my attention, and I turn to see Mae kneeling on the ground beside Rex, taking a selfie of the two of them. She’s always so bright and upbeat, and she does so much for other people. I never would have guessed she was dealing with so much worry and heartache.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “For all of you.”
Liam keeps his eyes trained on Mae and Rex as he nods. “Me too. Seamus Murphy is the best man I know. He’s been like a father to me, and a grandfather to Rex. We try to spend as much time with him as we can since…”
He trails off and clears his throat roughly, pressing his lips into a hard line. After telling me Mr. Murphy is no longer taking treatment, I don’t need him to finish the sentence to understand his meaning.
He turns to me suddenly, his arms dropping to his sides. “I need you to make me a deal.”
“Okay…”
“No more serious talk for the rest of the night. We seem to veer into grave territory whenever we’re together. Tonight is supposed to be fun, so when we walk through the doors of the community center, let’s try to forget everything else. Our baggage will be waiting for us at the door.”
“Can we just ditch the baggage altogether?”
Liam tilts his head, eyes searching my face. “Yours followed you all the way to Honeywell, didn’t it?”
I let out a surprised ‘ha!’ and shake my head. “Touché. Baggage at the door it is.”
Rex joins us again and the three of us head inside the community center. We follow the steady stream of people into a large room full of folding chairs, small couches, and beanbag chairs that are all aimed at a huge white projection screen on the far wall. A row of tables near the entrance holds refreshments.
“Can I have popcorn?” Rex asks. “And M&Ms? And Skittles!”
Liam gives his nephew a squinty-eyed look. “So I can clean up rainbow-colored barf in the middle of the night? I don’t think so, pal.”
“I won’t eat all of it,” Rex promises. “At least not all at once. You know I like variety. Plus I’ll share with you and Joss. Plus I didn’t eat much dinner so I’d have room for movie snacks tonight.”
Liam’s gusty sigh is clearly just for show because his lips are twitching uncontrollably. “It’s not fair that you always take advantage of my inability to say no to you. Go save us some seats while Joss and I get snacks.”
Rex makes a triumphant sound as he spins and hurries away. Liam and I only have to wait in line a minute before we’re loading up a tray with snacks. As we trail along the table, he notices me eyeing the locked cash boxes amid the piles of food.
“Everything is donated by local businesses,” he explains as he reaches past me to slip a twenty-dollar bill into one of the boxes. “That way it’s a free event for the families who can’t afford a night out. The people who can afford it are encouraged to donate money that’ll go directly to the center.”
When he offers to go get our drinks, I pull out my wallet and stuff all my cash into one of the locked boxes. A minute later, loaded down with snacks and drinks, we go in search of Rex.
Liam comes to an abrupt halt about halfway to the front of the room, nearly causing me to collide with his back. “Dude, seriously?”
I peer over his shoulder to find Rex nestled into the center of the biggest beanbag chair I’ve ever seen. He lets out a high-pitched giggle and shrugs as he wiggles into a sitting position. “What? This was the only thing left that was big enough to fit all three of us.”
Liam hands Rex the tray of snacks he’s holding and then reaches for mine, leaning in close as he takes it from me. “Hope you don’t mind cuddling during the movie.” The quiet rumble of his voice paired with his warm breath on my face makes me shiver. Good thing he’s got a grip on my tray or poor Rex might be wearing our drinks.
It takes some maneuvering to get all three of us sitting upright in the beanbag chair. I assumed Rex would stay in the middle with Liam and me on either side of him, but he scoots to the side so I’m forced to sit in the middle. We finally manage to get ourselves settled just as the lights dim.
“What movie are they showing anyway?” I ask, accepting a handful of M&Ms from Rex.
“The Santa Clause,” Rex whispers. “It’s tradition to show it every year after the tree lighting ceremony. People used to vote, but they always chose the same thing, so they stopped voting.”
The movie has barely started when I catch movement from Liam in my peripheral vision. He leans in and whispers, “Why are you grinning like that?”
“What? I’m not grinning like anything.”
“You are.” He moves to give me a playful poke, and I grab his finger before it makes contact. “You like this movie, don’t you?”
“I’m not a total Scrooge,” I tell him. “I do like some Christmas things, and this movie happens to be one of them.”
The slow smile spreading across his face can only be described as smug. “You want to know what I think?” He shifts even closer so he’s speaking directly in my ear, which sends a hot zing of lust straight to my center. I silently chastise my traitorous body for its incredibly inappropriate reaction given our current location.
“I think you’re secretly a true Christmas lover,” he whispers. “I think you’ll soon be so completely charmed by all our holiday festivities, Rex won’t have to beg you to come with us because you’ll be volunteering.”
I nod slowly as if his words have merit. “Want to know what I think?” I crook my finger in a ‘come here’ motion that has his eyes widening and darkening at the same time. He leans in so now I’m the one whispering in his ear. “I think you should shut up and watch the movie.”
He’s silent for a moment and then he lets out a quiet chuckle. He places his hand palm up on my thigh, and my heart skips as I think he’s asking to hold my hand. My pulse returns to normal a second later when Rex reaches over to pour some Skittles into his uncle’s palm.
We fall into a rhythm of silently passing snacks back and forth while we watch the movie. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. It’s so outside the realm of normal for me, and yet I know a night like this is typical for many people. I never expected to make friends when I came to Honeywell—in fact I wanted the bare minimum of interaction during my stay—and yet one of my goals was to experience a taste of real life. It doesn’t get more real than this: the small, warm body leaning against me and offering me another handful of M&Ms, and the solid man on my other side, pressed close from ankle to shoulder.
This is real life. It’s not my life, not really. But even if it’s only temporary—just a taste—that doesn’t mean I can’t savor it while it lasts, right?