Page 13 of Pretend You're Mine
“Xander,” I said.
As we shook hands, I wondered if it was his almost military bearing that had me on edge. Or maybe it was the cloying Christmas hymns echoing through the hall, courtesy of a pudgy suspender-wearing man clanging on a piano in the corner. Though maybe it was my conscience reminding me that we were lying to these nice people that pricked the hairs on the back of my neck. I tried to remind myself that this part of it was Naomi’s idea.
“Lovely to meet you,” Naomi’s mom said. “After…”
A deathly look from Naomi shut her mom up. I made a mental note to ask about that later. Just because we were faking this relationship for practicality’s sake didn’t mean that getting to know each other would hurt.
“How did you two meet, anyway?” her Dad asked as we sat down.
“At a bar,” I said, not even glancing Naomi’s way. We’d coached each other on this on the car ride here.
“We’ve just gone on a few dates,” Naomi cut in. “It’s still in the very early stages.”
As in, met-her-this-week-but-got-married-a-few-days-ago early stages, I thought ruefully to myself.
But her parents didn’t look entirely convinced. Naomi’s mom put a little pickle-filled sandwich she’d looked to be about to eat down, so she could wave a dismissive hand at us.
“Don’t downplay it for our sakes.” She winked at me. “I saw the way he was looking at you when you two came in here.”
Naomi’s sidelong glance at me wasn’t faked, although my casual wink back was. “Got me.”
Her mom smiled placidly, finally taking a polite bite of that sandwich. “I know a man that’s smitten when I see one.”
For some reason, that was Naomi’s cue to get to her feet. “We’re going to check out the tables before they start shutting down.”
“Want to snag those last-minute deals,” I added, even though I had no intention of actually buying anything.
As her family beamed up at us, I was suddenly grateful for Naomi’s determined tug to lead me away.
Suddenly, her brother was sidling up to us. “Convincing, you two,” he said with a small smug smile.
With a quick look around, Naomi hissed and glared, “Teren!”
“Sorry.” Now his smile was good-humored. “Couldn’t resist.”
“What do you want?” Naomi said.
Teren pouted. “You really don’t believe I just want to meet the new beau in your life?” Leaning in, he said, “Good on you for coming.”
I decided that I liked this Teren. Although Naomi still bore an annoyed expression. “Teren.”
“Ok, just” – he let out a melodramatic sigh – “You know how Mabel despises me. Well she won’t sell me any of her last chocolate-covered pretzels, claims she’s saving them for someone else. Mom and Dad think I’m being dramatic and won’t go over there for me.”
“Ok, I’ll try,” Naomi said. “But no promises.”
“You actually get her to part with them, I’ll pay you back, and you can have some.”
“These must be some epic chocolate-covered pretzels,” I commented. Peering at nearby tables didn’t locate the desserts in question, but Naomi was already turning away.
“You have no idea,” Teren said with a parting wave, already heading back to their table.
“Oh yeah, one more thing,” he called after us. “You two are an adorable couple!”
Naomi smiled grimly, while I chuckled, even though he’d clearly done it to get a rise out of her. Naomi and I may had been many things – complicated, bound together for convenience, in over our heads – but we were not adorable.
As we strolled around checking out the tables, the goods themselves were better than I had expected. Probably because my expectations – having never been to a church bazaar before – had been fairly stereotypical; cookies in the shape of crosses and bedazzled Bibles. But the only indication that this was a church bazaar –other than the fact that it took place in a church– were the Christmas hymns. On sale was your regular delicious Christmas fare; red and green Rice Krispies treats, candy canes of every stripe and size galore, and enough hand-knitted mittens to cloth the occupants of this church ten times over.
“My family has never done these sorts of things together,” I said.
Naomi looked at me for a moment as if trying to determine whether I was insulting her family traditions or not.
“This is nice. Seeing everyone together at the holidays like this is nice,” I said quickly, feeling the need to put her at ease.
She nodded and offered a small smile. “Yes, we’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember. It’s not a bad tradition I guess.”
I thought back to my own family and our traditions. We were European and not particularly religious. Though we had our gatherings, there didn’t seem to be the same level of warmth as I witnessed between the people that surrounded me. In fact, after the previous Christmas, I wasn’t feeling particularly warm and fuzzy about any of my family members. “Are you close with your family?” Naomi was asking, pulling me from my thoughts.
