With a successful holiday party behind me—one I’ll admit I enjoyed—now comes the part I really dread: coming face-to-face with my brother. I’m grateful Landon agrees to come with me because I’m not the least bit ready.

He insists on picking me up no matter how many times I tell him I can give him directions. Keeping him out of my house is proving difficult. Last night I faked a headache to avoid him coming in. This damn Christmas tree is proving quite the nuisance, almost enough I consider taking it out of the box and setting it up.

Almost.

A quarter after five my doorbell rings. I pull my jacket on, whip a scarf around my neck, and open the door. Landon steps forward slightly as though he’s going to come in.

“What are you doing?”

“What am I doing? I want to see how the tree looks.” He maneuvers his head trying to catch a glimpse inside.

“You can’t.” I lean against the doorway, blocking his view.

“What do you mean I can’t? I’m right here. If I walk through those doors, I’m in your house, and I can see the tree. That’s how a door works.”

“Very funny. But you can’t come in and see it.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because I haven’t put it up!” I don’t mean to startle him as I yell. The words take over and fly out of my mouth before I can stop them.

He takes a step back. “What do you mean you haven’t put it up?” He furrows his eyebrows, the crease above his nose somehow shaming me.

“I mean I haven’t put it up yet.”

“You said that already. Why not?”

Think fast. “Because I don’t have any ornaments.” There. This way I’m not lying. I don’t have any ornaments.

He snaps his fingers together. “Ornaments!” He leans in and kisses my cheek. “Of course. What was I thinking? You need ornaments. I don’t know why I assumed you had any. If you don’t have a tree, chances are you’re lacking in ornaments.”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“No. I’ll get you some.”

“Please don’t. You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I do. What kind of person am I if I buy you a tree but don’t bother with any ornaments?”

“Not a very smart one.”

He laughs. “Very funny. Still, I’m getting you some.”

“You really don’t need to worry about it.” Even though I say this, I know he won’t give it up. So I don’t argue with him anymore. “Shall we go?”

“Are you ready for this?”

I let out a deep breath. “No. So let’s get it over with.” I follow him to his car, allowing him to take the lead and drive. I’ll give him directions along the way.

As we pull up next to my mom’s house, I mentally give her credit for her outside decorations. Even I have to admit she does an amazing job. Lights are strung all over the house and on every tree in her yard. Her transformation is magical. I only wish I could enjoy it.

“Nice house,” Landon says as he puts the car in park.

“Yeah, it is. She kept it in the divorce. It’s definitely outdated on the inside, but she takes good care of it.” I’ll admit sometimes the wallpaper gets to be too much but there’s some comfort to be found in the old and familiar.

I blow out a breath. “I suppose we should go in there.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“I’m sure I am not ready but as you’ve pointed out multiple times, this is my family, and I can’t abandon them. I can’t guarantee what will happen in there but hopefully with you by my side I’ll stay sane.” Or more than likely I’ll blow up at my brother and hope Landon doesn’t run the other way when I do so.

We step out of the car, and I’m relieved he takes my hand in his as we walk to the door. He gives my hand a squeeze, so I take my free hand and place it over his.

“You can do this,” he says. Those words mean more than he can know. And I hope to God he’s right because I honestly have my doubts.

I ring the bell, and my mom answers before I have a chance to put my hand back in my pocket.

“Juliette! You came!” She says this as though I had a say in the manner. If I hadn’t come, I would hear about it for the rest of my life. She squeezes me so tight I think I may burst. “And you brought this young man! I’m so sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Landon. Pleased to meet you.”

Landon reaches his hand out but in the invading way my mother does she embraces him as well. Why would she do that? I’m sure he’s uncomfortable now and wants to leave.

He doesn’t push her away, though, and even kisses her on the cheek. If I were keeping score, he’d earn two points. One for being sweet and a second for his tolerability.

“Well, don’t stand out in the cold. Come in, come in.” She motions for us to come through the door and takes our jackets right away. We place our wet shoes on the rug.

“Is he here?” I don’t say his name, like it’s poisonous or something. He is, though, isn’t he? A venomous man. He slithers around waiting for the perfect time to strike, sucking all the life—or in my mom’s case, money—out until there’s nothing left.

I don’t want to do this.

“Hunter? Of course he’s here. Who do you think picked him up?”

Great. She’s a chauffeur, too. The situation keeps getting better. He should have found his own ride. I’m not too surprised. Hunter has always found a way to wrap her around his finger. I haven’t even seen him yet, and I’m already irritated. This will be the most fun Christmas gathering ever.

I should have refused to come.

“Hey, sis.”

It’s crazy how such a familiar voice can sound so cold and distant and invoke such pain. I turn around, and there he is, my brother, the one I haven’t seen or spoken with for two years, dressed in a pair of jeans and a nice polo shirt. I don’t know if I was expecting to see a prison suit or something, but this isn’t him. The Hunter I knew before he went off to prison didn’t care about his appearance. He kept his hair long and tangled, his shirts and jeans ripped and dirty, and this person stepped right out of an Old Navy ad.

“Hey.”

My body stiffens when he steps toward me, this stranger. When he wraps his arms around me, every part of me locks, and I gasp for air. I don’t want this.

I escape his attempt at a warm greeting. “Hunter, this is Landon. Landon, this is my brother, Hunter.”

Landon shakes my brother’s hand and nods his head almost as though he’s telling him he’s here to support me. I love this man.

Wait. No. I don’t. I barely know him. I mean I really, really like this man.

“Let’s not all stand here in the breezeway. Come in, let’s go sit in the living room.” Hunter takes control as though this is his house and not our mother’s.

Still, when Landon turns to me and takes my hand, I give in and go with them. I cozy next to my boyfriend, where I’m safe, across from my mom and Hunter.

The coffee table between us is filled with holiday cookies. Sugar cookies, gingerbread, peppermint bark, chocolate biscotti, and my favorite, peanut butter blossoms. It’s the one thing about Christmas I actually do like. My mom can bake, that’s the truth. I dive right into the peanut butter blossoms, snatching two off the platter. Landon opts for a Snickerdoodle.

“These are excellent,” he compliments my mom as he bites into one.

“Oh, those are my favorite too.” She’s pleased he likes them. “When Juliette was around six or seven we always baked together. I think she only helped out so she could lick the bowl clean. Can you see her with her face in a bowl? She made sure to get every last drop.”

“She sure did! I had to compete with her for food all the time. She could sure pack it in. Does she still do that?”

I don’t appreciate Hunter’s addition to the conversation. “First of all, I didn’t ‘pack it in.’ I had a healthy appetite. That’s all. There’s nothing wrong with that. Second, Landon and I have not been dating long. He doesn’t need to hear all of this.“

“Yes, he does.“ Hunter scoots forward and steals a peanut butter blossom. “I better get one before they’re all gone.“

I shoot him a look. It’s the same look I’ve given him since we were kids. He knows not to mess with me when my face is curled up like it is.

“Well, dinner will be ready in a few minutes. I don’t want you guys to spoil your appetite so that’s enough cookies for now.“ My mom takes the plates away into the kitchen, leaving me and Landon with Hunter.

The silence is so uncomfortable I want to race out of the room. I can’t leave Landon behind, though. What do I say to my brother after so many years? What do I say to someone I’ve lost all respect for?

“So, Hunter, are you a basketball fan?”

Thank you, Landon, for coming to the rescue. I could kiss him right now.

“Nah. I mean, if there’s a game on I’ll watch it. But I’m not really a sports guy.”

“No? I like catching a game here or there. I won’t plan a viewing party or anything but I like to take in a good game.”

No one replies. I shift my legs to the left and then the right, my nose perking up at the smell of roast beef. I hope dinner is done sooner than later. Once we’re all shoving food in our mouths, we can chat less.

“So, how have you been, Jules?” Hunter is staring at me, but I can’t look him in the eye.

Shoot. It was only a matter of time before it came to me. I really don’t know what to say. How was prison? Are you happy to be taking advantage of our mother? What tricks do you have up your sleeve?

“Okay, I guess. I’m still working at Booker & Smith. Carly’s getting married.”

“She is?”

Hunter had a little thing for Carly when he first met her but she never reciprocated. I’m not surprised when his ears perk up at the sound of her name.

“Yep. February. I’m standing up in it. His name is Eddie.”

“Eddie’s a lucky guy.” Little does he know he could have been lucky if he hadn’t taken the road he did. Carly considered going out on a date with him to humor him. She thought maybe she’d give him a shot. Then he showed his true colors. He blew it.

The silence takes over again, and I wonder why I even came. I thought this would be easier with Landon here. It’s not.

“Why are you here?” I can’t hold it in any longer. “How could you even ask mom if you can stay with her?”

“Wait. She insisted I stay with her. You better get your story straight before you start making accusatory statements.”

I shoot up from the couch. “I better? I better or what?” What kind of threat does my dear brother have for me? Is he going to hack into my bank account and steal all my money? Slip into my purse and take my debit card? He should try it, and he’ll see a part of me he’s never seen before.

“Juliette…” Landon reaches for my hand but I pull away.

“No, tell me Hunter. Did you learn how to take someone down while in prison? You spent two years locked up for stealing from our mother, and you expect me to forgive you?”

“She did.”

“And she shouldn’t have. I tell her that all the time.”

“You have no right to do that. My relationship with her is mine and mine alone. You have no say in the matter at all.”

“I’m only trying to protect her.” Someone has to.

“From what? I’m not going to hurt her. I’ve changed. Those two years I saw a therapist every single week. I’m a different person now. I swear.”

I cross my arms and let out a huff. I want to believe him—I do—but he’s never given me any reason to. He spent months writing checks under my mom’s name and draining money from her checking account. I trusted him up until I couldn’t anymore.

“Tell you what. You can keep swearing up and down but that won’t change how I feel.” I look over at Landon. “Come on. It was a mistake coming here.”

“Juliette, your mom wants you here.”

“Yeah. Mom wants you here. I’m willing to sweep this under the rug to make her happy.”

“Oh, so now you want to make her happy. That’s really rich, Hunter, considering you’re the one that caused her breakdown.”

“Her what?”

“Oh, she didn’t tell you? She ended up in the hospital for a solid two weeks after you went off to jail. You did that to her. You.”

“You seriously think that’s all my fault? Really? How can you even think that? You’re as much to blame as I am. You aren’t exactly sitting there with a halo over your head. I know you think you have one, but you don’t. Far from it.”

“I never said I was perfect.”

“You don’t need to. You pretend you are every single day.” He gets up from the couch, walks over to the closet, and grabs his jacket. “I’m out of here.”

“No. We should leave.” And I want us to be the ones to leave, too. I don’t want to be here anymore.

“Yeah, you should. But I need to blow off some steam. I’ll talk to you later.” He opens the front door. “Or I won’t.” And slams it behind him.