Page 104 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
“He didn’t prey?—”
“Let me ask you this,” he says. “Didn’t he try to break into your place? Then he chased you down at the farm. There was hostility between the two of you, right?”
“Yes,” I say, feeling skeptical.
“And then he just started... being nice to you out of nowhere?”
I pause, thinking about it, trying to recall the moment when the switch flipped. He tried to bring me that popcorn, and then I was supposed to be hanging out with Storee, and he was there...
“I can see the wheels starting to turn in your head. This is all part of his manipulation, Betty. He’s done it for years, but I’m the only one who calls him out on it. The reason he has this entire town eating out of his palm is because he’s been able to manipulate their opinion, just like he did with you. He’s not a good person. I’ve told you that from the beginning, and you chose not to listen.”
“I just... I got confused,” I say, feeling incredibly stupid. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’m ashamed to say that I felt like I was maybe helping in a way.”
“Helping?” he asks. “How would cuddling up to Maxheimer be helping?”
“I... I thought that maybe we could come up with another idea,” I say, feeling really ignorant and guilty. “An idea that the entire town could get behind. You know, so we had support.”
“Did he suggest that?”
“No.” I shake my head. “We haven’t really talked about the plans?—”
Uncle Dwight grows closer. “How often do you talk?”
I bite on the corner of my lip, knowing he won’t like the answer. “I don’t know, a few times a week.”
“What?” His eyes go wide. “Jesus Christ, Betty.” He takes a step back. “You’ve been talking to him a few times a week? Just letting him play you like that?” He lets out a disappointed sigh. “He deliberately took away my wish. He knew how important that was to me, and he took it away. I don’t blame him for her death, but I blame him for diminishing my hope.”
“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
He looks away. “I was searching for you because I have to head out of town for a week. I have to attend an end-of-the-year business conference in Aspen.”
“Okay, do you... do you need anything from me?”
He shakes his head. “No... just... just don’t let him fool you, Betty. He’s only going to hurt you in the long run like he’s hurt me.” Then with that, he takes off.
I turn around, not sure what to do now, and spot Atlas standing inside the doorway. Part of me wants to go straight to him and be held in his enormous arms. But then I think about Uncle Dwight’s words.
Let me ask you this. Didn’t he try to break into your place? Then he chased you down at the farm. There was hostility between the two of you, right? And then he just started... being nice to you out of nowhere?
I don’t know who you are, Atlas Maxheimer.
I wouldn’t mind sitting on Old Krampus’s lap and telling him I’d like a beautiful blonde with bright blue eyes to be set under my Christmas tree.
Did you mean that?Or are you capable of lying so masterfully that you even have your best friend’s wife convinced?
I can’t face him right now, so I turn on my heel and head back to my car.
Chapter Eighteen
Max
Narrator: Well, that was nearly unbearable to witness. If it wasn’t for the tea being spilled about the feud, I might have looked away, but there was too much drama to keep me from leaving.
What do you think?
Does Max have it in him to take someone else’s ornament off the tree?
He’s no saint, that’s for certain. With the way this started between him and Betty, his intentions weren’t pure, but can we trust that he’s a genuine guy?
