For the first time in my adult life, I can call Christmas a success. Landon spent the night, we talked for hours after we made love, and he decided to call Jeff and accept the job. His choice to put his issues with Jeff aside puts things into perspective for me, and I know what I need to do.

I show up at my mom’s house a little after nine with a half dozen donuts from Dunkin’ Donuts. Between the three of us, we should be able to finish these off no problem. Dunkin’ Donuts has always been one of my favorites. I also have a drink for each of us.

My mom opens the door, a not so genuine smile on her face. “Good morning, Juliette. It’s the morning after Christmas, not Christmas.”

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t come.” I never come though. This shouldn’t be a shock to her.

“No call, either.”

Crap. I do typically call. I listen to her lecture me about why I should be there with her, how we should take the trip to see Hunter, and if she thinks my dad is enjoying his morning with his mid-life crisis. I can’t believe I did that. “I’m sorry.” I lift the donuts up and show her my carrier full of drinks. “Make it up to you with carbs and sugar?”

She sighs but puts a more convincing smile on her face. “Come on in. Your brother is just getting out of bed.”

That must be nice to sleep that late with no job to interrupt precious sleep. I took today off, and I still woke up early.

My mom leads me into the kitchen where I put down the donuts and take paper plates out of the cabinet. I can barely find a place on the table to put the food. “What’s all this?” I point to the piles of papers covering the table.

“Just balancing my checkbook. I usually do it every week but with your brother here it totally slipped my mind. I’m playing catch-up.”

“Mom, why not do it online? It would be so much easier.”

“Oh, hush. You know I’m not terrified of the computer like some people my age—I do the FaceTime with you—but some things are best done the old-fashioned way.”

Her logic makes me laugh, and I’m in the middle of a giggle when Hunter bounces into the room. “Morning, sis!” He invades my personal space by smashing a kiss on my cheek.

“Ew, gross.” I wipe my cheek.

“Oh, stop it. I’m your brother, not some stranger on the street.”

What he doesn’t realize, though, is that he is kind of like a stranger to me. I don’t know him anymore. I haven’t known him for years, even for a time before he went to prison. Now I’m observing him interact with my mom, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe I’ve been too hard on him.

“How was Christmas yesterday?” I start the conversation, wanting to prove I can be a big person and move past our differences.

“Great! Mom and I baked cookies, because you know Mom can never have enough cookies, and watched a few movies. The day was quiet but good.”

He doesn’t ask me about my day because he assumes I stayed at home and pouted over the holiday. I’m forced to volunteer the information. “Mine was fine. I spent it with Landon.”

“Spent it—do you mean it like Christmas?” Hunter bites into a donut.

“Yes. Like Christmas. I actually baked cookies, too.”

“Dear Lord, what have you done with my child?” My mom presses her hand to her chest and looks up at the ceiling. We all laugh.

“It’s pretty serious with this Landon fellow, isn’t it?”

“I guess. I mean, we’re hanging out.”

“Hanging out? What does that mean?” My mom asks as she pulls a knife out of the drawer. My mom is the only person I know who cuts her donuts.

“It means they’re doing the dirty without labeling it.”

“Shut up, Hunter! That’s not what it means.”

“Sure sounds like it to me.” I can’t believe my mother agrees with him. It’s ridiculous, and it’s even grosser thinking about her imagining that.

“We’re spending time together. We like each other. It’s not like I’m getting married.”

“Why not?” They both ask at the same time.

Why am I forced to answer this question? I swear, the older you are the more people need to know why you’re not married. Just because I’m thirty-eight and haven’t walked down the aisle doesn’t mean I’m cursed or something. Some people choose not to marry.

“Let’s drop it.” I don’t want to go into any details.

Hunter raises his hands up in surrender. “Fine. But if I found someone that I liked to spend time with, I’d want to claim her.”

“First of all, don’t put air quotes around spend time with. Second, you don’t claim a woman. A woman is not your property.”

“Settle down. That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” He finishes off his donut and takes another one. “What do you think of these Christmas donuts?”

“Not much.” I shrug. “They’re the same as the regular ones except with green and red frosting that will stain my fingers.”

Hunter licks his fingers. “I love frosting.”

“Weren’t you the same one who commented about how much I eat?”

“Hey, I can give it but I can’t take it.”

My mom puts her knife down and searches through a few papers. Her fingers are tangled in her hair as she flips papers back and forth and rummages through her checkbook.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” She shakes her head at me as if she’s forgotten how to talk. “Mom? What is it?”

“Something’s not right here. I’m missing like two hundred dollars. I’ve accounted for every single check and transaction. All my receipts are in order right here.” She bunches a stack of receipts in her fist.

“Are you sure you didn’t write something incorrectly?” Hunter reaches for her checkbook, and, without hesitation, I slap his hand away.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?” He shakes his hand.

“You stay away from her checkbook.”

“I’m only trying to help her. I’m pretty good at math, you know? She could have added or subtracted wrong which would have thrown off her total.”

“I don’t think I did either of those. I used a calculator.”

My mom keeps rifling through the papers as though the answer will jump out at her. I keep my eyes on Hunter, who is biting his lip, and his eye is twitching. No. Could it be? “Is that an Apple watch you’re wearing?” I point to his wrist.

“Yeah. So?” He touches his hand to the band and covers the watch.

“How can you afford that without a job? I’m sure they didn’t hand out expensive watches in prison.”

“Are you suggesting I’m the reason mom’s checkbook is not balancing?”

“You can understand why the thought may cross my mind.” I address the elephant in the room. My mom honestly must be thinking the same thing. With his history, it’s not a far-fetched assumption.

“Juliette, you apologize to your brother.”

“No. I have nothing to apologize for. If he can prove he’s not involved in this, fine, but I’m not giving him the benefit of the doubt.”

“Hunter has been through classes. He’s rehabilitated. This wasn’t him. I made an error somewhere.”

“There you go making an excuse. You said yourself you didn’t make a mistake.”

“I didn’t do it, Juliette. This has nothing to do with me.” He stands from the table. “I’m insulted you even suggested it.”

“I’m sorry if I find it hard to believe you but for the past two years, she hasn’t had any issues with her account. You’re here a few weeks, and it’s all out of whack again. It seems a little suspicious to me. A bit too coincidental.”

“I’m not putting up with this. I’m working on getting a job. No.” He backs up against the counter. “No. I don’t need to explain myself.”

“How did you afford the watch?”

“Juliette…” My mom’s voice is shaking, but there’s no mistaking the sternness behind it.

“No. I want him to tell me how he bought the watch.”

“Hunter, you don’t have to say anything.” My mom goes over to him and touches his arm, and he pulls away.

He stares at me from across the room, and he’s never looked like a stranger more than he does right now. When he approaches the table and takes another donut, I flinch, thinking for a moment he may throw it at me. I suppose I deserve it though I still won’t change my stance. He takes a big bite, takes his time chewing, and when he’s done, he says to my mom, though keeps his gaze on me, “Let me know when she’s gone. I don’t want to be around her right now.”

Once Hunter leaves the room, my mom sucks in air as the tears escape. “Why can’t you two just get along? It’s not Hunter. I’m sure of it. He’s had no access to any of my checks or accounts or anything. There’s no way he’s guilty of anything. The bank must have made an error, or I don’t know, it’s possible I did. I’m human, Juliette. And even if he did steal from me again, that’s none of your concern.”

She closes up the box of donuts and hands them to me. “And for the record, I bought him the watch.”

* * *

Crash! I open the drawer underneath the one I just slammed shut. “Ugh! Where is it?” I slam that drawer shut, too, and scream out in pain.

“Juliette! Are you okay?” Carly flies into my office.

I shake my hand. “Yeah. I slammed my finger in the drawer.” It’s throbbing, red, and matches the embarrassment I feel toward what happened at my mom’s house.

“You should be more careful.”

“Thank you. I’ll remember that.” I’m not in the mood for her antics today.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay with Landon? I thought you took off work today.”

“I decided to come in. Things are great between us.” They’re incredible, and I can’t wait to see him again. He even bought me a gift, a sweet charm bracelet to remind me of the times at the racetrack with my dad. I picked a winner with him.

Too bad he picked a loser like me.

“Then what is it? Something with a client?”

“How did you know you could trust Eddie again?”

“What do you mean?”

“After he lied to you those few times he did drugs. How did you learn to trust him again? Whenever he’s out with his friends, how do you know he is not off getting high?” When they first began dating, Eddie wasn’t exactly trustworthy. They broke up once or twice, but he declared himself a changed man, and their relationship seemed to blossom. I wanted to believe he’d changed for her, but to this day I sometimes have my doubts. My parents and my brother taught me that.

Carly sits down and folds her hands in her lap. “I love him, and I know he loves me. He wouldn’t lie to me.”

“But he lied to you before. So what makes you think he won’t do it again?” This has to have crossed her mind before. I’m sure every once in a while doubts float into her mind, and she wonders if she’s made the right choice.

“Do you think Eddie and I shouldn’t get married?” Her voice falls flat, and she sinks into the chair.

“No, no. Nothing like that. This has nothing to do with Eddie. Can you answer the question?” I’m going somewhere with this if she’ll follow through and provide an answer.

“Well, he did an outpatient rehab, and he sees a therapist to this day. We’re closer than ever. And mostly, I want to trust him. Could he be lying to me? I suppose the possibility exists. But I don’t think he is.” She sits up straight and puts her hands on my desk. “Tell me what’s going on. This is weird. And for me to say it’s weird, well, then it’s weird.”

“My mom’s checking account went off-balance. I assumed—and accused—my brother of being the reason behind it. My mom tried to convince me he has nothing to do with it, but his past doesn’t exactly comfort me.” I bury my head in my hands. “I’m a horrible person.”

“Do you think he has something to do with it?”

I want to trust him. I want to believe he’s changed, and he’s not capable of doing this to my mother again. Our mother. “I don’t know what to think. I didn’t even give him the benefit of the doubt. Aren’t people supposed to be innocent until proven guilty? I did the exact opposite.” I pound my head on the desk. “What’s wrong with me?” I lift my head, my hair covering my face. I blow it out of the way.

“You’ve been burned. Hunter hurt your mother, and therefore, hurt you. I know you, Juliette. You want a family, the closeness, but when your parents divorced, you felt it was all taken from you. The trust vanished.”

Poof. Disappeared. She’s right. I can’t trust him, even if I want to.

“Do you think he’s innocent?”

That’s the million dollar question. “I want to think he is.”

“Then believe he is. Deep down, do you think he stole from your mom again, or is your fear masking the truth?”

I search my soul, digging deep for what the truth may be. Do I think he’s guilty? I don’t think I do. I don’t want to give him a free pass though. I don’t give free passes.

But I have to start trusting him, even a little, until he gives a reason not to.

“How do I fix this?”

“Grovel at his feet. I don’t think he’ll accept anything less. He is Hunter Walsh after all.”

I don’t grovel, but sometimes you have to swallow your pride.