Page 106 of Snowed In with Benefits

I walk in with my hair and makeup done, wearing a designer dress Preston bought for me ages ago, and I feel like I’m wearing a costume all over again. Like the last few weeks didn’t change anything, like I’m still playing nice for the wrong people. Something has changed, though. I’ve changed. I step inside and immediately head for the drinks table.

There’s a bowl of eggnog, and a bowl of adult eggnog. A bowl of punch, and a bowl of adult punch. I go for the adult eggnog because I’m pretty sure that’s where the whiskey lives.

“Josie! So good to see you. I heard there was a bit of a kerfuffle at your wedding!” The woman is tall, big-breasted, and draped head to toe in purple. I vaguely recognize her, but I can’t place her.

“A bit,” I say vaguely. “How have you been?”

“Oh, thriving, darling, just thriving. You know Parker was accepted to Yale? Don’t you remember, he used to have that crush on you? Oh, hindsight really is twenty-twenty, isn’t it?”

Parker, Parker… I search my memory. The only Parker I can recall is a snot-nosed ten-year-old I used to babysit when I was still living with my parents. I guess the timing makes sense. I give her a tight smile and sip my drink. The eggnog coats my throat. The whiskey burns right through it. I close my eyes and savor the moment.

“Aren’t these decorations just delightful? Diane sure does know how to throw a party, doesn’t she?” It’s another woman I don’t know, this one disappearing under layers of dripping gold.

“She sure does,” I agree. If there’s one thing my mom knows how to do, it’s throw a party. I move away from the table as a group of distant relatives start drifting toward it. I might be bold enough to show up. That doesn’t mean I’m bold enough to take on a group of five aunts and uncles all at once. I move around the room, looking for a pocket, somewhere I can get a little bit of space.

I find that space at the bottom of the stairs where the hallway leads to guest bedrooms and the staircase leads up to the main bedrooms. Breathing a sigh, I go to wander down the hallway when a pair of hushed voices bring me up short.

“It’s not my fault!” It’s a man’s voice. I recognize it, but can’t immediately place it.

“Then whose fault is it?” Courtney hisses. With a shock, I realize that I’ve stumbled upon my sister and her husband in the middle of a whispered fight.

“We need the money. You think Nola’s horseback riding lessons are free?”

“No, I don’t think they’re free! But I don’t think missing Christmas with your family is worth an extra, what, five hundred dollars? Be real, Greg!”

My stomach sinks and I back away before they notice me. Concerned, I hover just within eyesight of the hallway for a while. Eventually I see Courtney storming out, heading for the kitchen. I give it a beat before I follow her. Weaving my way through shoulder-to-shoulder guests, I eventually push through the kitchen door and find her freshening her drink very, very slowly.

“Hey, Court,” I say tentatively.

She brightens up instantly, slapping her mask into place. “Josie! It’s so good to see you! We didn’t know if you would make it.”

“I didn’t know if I would, either, but a little birdy told me that Nola needed someone to match dresses with.”

Courtney looks at my dress and laughs. “Oh, how sweet. She’ll love that her auntie showed up for her.”

I want to ask her who shows up for her, but I’m not that brave. Besides, you can’t be that straightforward with Courtney.

“How are things with Greg?” I ask carefully.

“Hm? Oh, same as ever, you know how it is.”

I thought I did. Clearly, I don’t. I wash a cup in silence for a moment, trying to figure out how to say what I’m actually meaning to say.

“I would ask how things were going with you, but I thought you’d be coming back from your honeymoon now. I have to say, you kind of threw me for a loop.” Courtney is being careful too. I miss the open, familial conversations the guys have. Where they can give each other shit or get upset and nobody has to dance around anybody else.

“Yeah. Who wants to go to Aruba, anyway,” I say flippantly.

She just looks at me. Okay, so that didn’t land. I search her face for a moment, but all I can see is her mask.

“Courtney… are you happy?”

She almost drops her glass. “What?”

“It’s a simple question.”

“It’s a pointless question. Have you seen our new home? No, you missed the housewarming party. Well, you should come over and see it. Maybe in the spring, when we can really show off the pool. And look, Greg just bought me this new bag. It’s Dior. Isn’t it to die for?”

“Oh, that’s… that’s nice.”