Death Takes a Holiday by Jennifer Harlow Page A

say.
    “Beatrice, come sit down,” Nana says, shifting the baby to her left arm. “You look like you’re about to flee.”
    “Actually I have—”
    “ Beatrice ,” Nana says with an undercurrent of anger, “sit down.”
    Ugh. I take the seat between Nana and Brian. Noticeable to only me, because I’m looking for it, Brian shifts in his chair as far from me as possible.
    “So, do you like your new job?” Renata asks.
    “It’s okay. Lotta travel and paperwork, but it’s fulfilling.”
    “Well, I’m so sorry you couldn’t make it to the wedding. I know it was short notice and all, but we would have loved to have had you there.”
    “Huh?” I ask.
    Brian smiles. “You were in Atlanta then, right?” He meets my eyes, not exactly pleading, more like threatening me to keep up his lie.
    No, I wasn’t invited to my only brother’s wedding. I didn’t even know about it until weeks after the fact. Heck, if I hadn’t flown home, the first time I’d ever get to meet my nephew would probably be at his high school graduation. Now, I could totally blow him out of the water, and boy would it feel good, but then we’d get into a fight. He’d storm out and Nana wouldn’t get quality baby time. Being good totally sucks sometimes.
    “No, I think it was Seattle,” I say. “I am really sorry I missed it.”
    “It’s perfectly alright,” Brian says. “We understood.”
    I want to roll my eyes but stop myself.
    “He is such a good baby,” Nana tells them. “How often does he wake up in the night?”
    “Twice,” Renata says. Then all of a sudden she entwines her fingers and presses her hands to her chest, tearing up. “We are so blessed.”
    This time I don’t suppress the eye roll.
    “We really are,” Brian says.
    Two flawless teardrops roll down Renata’s cheeks. She stands up, embarrassed by this outpouring of emotion. “Excuse me,” she says before disappearing into the house.
    “Is she okay?” I ask.
    “Hormones,” Brian says.
    “Give it a few weeks,” Nana says. “She’ll be fine.”
    Without the need to act as if we’re a normal functioning family for Renata, the three of us sit in uncomfortable silence. I’m starting to think comfortable silences are a myth. Brian’s foot shakes, Nana glances back and forth at us, and I pretend to find the concrete fascinating. The last time the three of us were together, Brian wound up in the hospital and I fled the state. We have now entered Awkward City.
    Brian takes it upon himself to fix the situation. “Is Kansas cold this time of year?”
    “It is winter,” I say with a fake smile. “Though it’s not as bad as Atlanta, or was it Seattle, in the summer?” First blood is mine.
    His jaw sets. “I had to tell her something.”
    “Or you could have, I don’t know, invited me?”
    “And risk you killing one of the guests because they ate the last shrimp? I don’t think so.”
    “Stop it!” Nana says. “Both of you. You’ll upset the baby.”
    He looks fine sucking on the bottle with his eyes closed.
    “ You could have told me,” I say to Nana.
    “Brian wanted to be the one to do it,” she says. “And I am done being in the middle of you two. You were both wrong, but it’s over. It’s time to move on.”
    “She tried to kill me!”
    “It was an accident!”
    “It is time to move on,” Nana hisses in a low whisper. “We are a family. We are all we have! I want us to act like it, for God’s sake!” Now she’s on the verge of tears. Brian and I actually unite in our shock and empathy with both our mouths opening and eyes growing wide. Great, we’ve made Nana sad at Christmas. We suck.
    “I’m sorry,” I say.
    “Don’t apologize to me,” she says, fighting back tears. “Apologize to each other.”
    I gaze at Brian, and he at me. We exchange a look that says, “I’m game if you are,” though he’ll fake the sincerity. “I’m sorry I almost killed you,” I say. “Accidently.” And I am. It’s haunted me for