SWNOVELS Elf Against the Wall: Chapter 2
“Yes, he’s legally your cousin, but you’re not actually related, so I don’t see why you can’t just go on a date with Wendie.”
“Mom,” my cousin whined, wiping his nose with his sweater sleeve, which was cute when he was eight but not so much now that he was a college sophomore. “I told you I don’t want to date someone like her.”
“You mean someone with the nicest tits on the east coast?” Granny Doyle crowed, topping off my wineglass.
“Gran, I appreciate the confidence, but I’m not dating my cousin.”
“Especially not one on Shirley’s side.” Gran glared across the room at my father’s prim and proper elderly mother.
I clutched my drink as one of my uncles jostled me accidentally.
Aunt Jennifer’s house was packed with our family.
“You’d be lucky you have Wendie.” Aunt Abby was offended. “My baby is going to be a software engineer.” She pinched his pimply cheek. “Evie, you need someone to take care of you. I heard you got fired from another job today. And you’re homeless. You can’t be choosy.”
“If you’re going to go all Sweet Home Alabama and date your cousin, don’t waste it on Whiney Wendell,” my cousin Nat slurred, her spiced Christmas wine sloshing out of her glass. She draped a toned arm around my curvier shoulders. “Go for Sean.”
“You’re seriously pimping out your own brother?” Sawyer yelled over the techno-remixed Christmas carols.
“Is Evie on the prowl? Better hide your husbands. Justin!” Meghan, one of my married-in cousins, raised her voice and yelled to my second cousin, “Stay away from Evie. I don’t want her breaking up my marriage. I spent a lot of money on our wedding.”
“Justin is our actual cousin, so I think you’re safe,” Sawyer clapped back.
“Mom.” Felicity turned to Aunt Lisa. “I thought I told you I didn’t want her here.”
“Christmas is about helping the less fortunate,” Aunt Lisa said soothingly to Felicity.
“She’s not less fortunate. She’s a home-wrecker.”
Yeah… I was never ever living that down. Felicity was going to make sure that last Christmas’s kissing incident stayed burned in the collective Murphy-family memory.
“She isn’t less fortunate. She made bad choices.” My mom came up behind her sister-in-law and tilted her head prettily.
The frumpier Aunt Lisa scowled. If Aunt Lisa weren’t so mean, I’d feel sorry for her. I knew what it was like to have a family member who set a standard I could never meet.
My mom looked at me and sighed, pulling at the sleeve of my too-tight sweater. She didn’t have to say anything, but the sigh said it all: Why can’t you be more like the rest of the family? Why do you have to be a college dropout with a dead-end job and a Chinese-food-delivery addiction?
“You should go to the adoption agency and get your money back!” Uncle Kevin chortled.
His wife elbowed him sharply, and he looked ashamed.
“Just joking. Sorry, Evie. We love having you in this family. No one makes stuffed mushrooms like you.” He popped one into his mouth.
I wanted to shrink into myself. “Thanks. I fry them in duck fat and make my own breadcrumbs.”
“Why don’t you go to culinary school, dear? You could get a job for a wealthy single billionaire and fall in love.” Aunt Amy gave me a pained smile.
“More like sleep with him and get pregnant.” Felicity turned up her nose.
“She didn’t get pregnant at fifteen, so she managed to make one good decision,” Uncle Kevin quipped.
“You’ll get there, Evie. Some people are late bloomers,” Aunt Amy said soothingly.
“And some people are home-wrecking stalkers.”
I mumbled my excuses, pretending like I needed to deal with Snowball, who was racing around with her dog cousins, mainly the beautiful Irish setters Grandma Shirley bred and that several family members had been gifted.
Then I fled to the kitchen to put more of the appetizers in the oven to crisp up.
Christmas used to be my favorite holiday, but I didn’t think I was going to survive this December with everyone in my family hating my guts.
Maybe when my dad kicked me out on Christmas day, I’d just move. I could go to California or buy one of those old Victorian houses in a dying rustbelt town.
Who was I kidding? Like I had enough money for a bus ticket, let alone a whole house.
The pastry was turning golden brown, and I pulled the tray out of the oven.
“Brava, Evie! You bring those cranberry-brie bites over here,” Aunt Trish called when she saw me come out of the kitchen with the platter. “In case you missed it, I brought a cheese platter that I made myself on my farm retreat. Evie? Evie, where did you put the cheese tray?”
Aunt Jennifer had made me throw out the goat cheese.
“Trish doesn’t know how to cook,” Aunt J had said, “And she sure as fuck doesn’t know how to make cheese.”
Aunt Trish cupped my face. “I’m doing tarot readings. I have sage and my cards in my purse. You, my dear, are in need of guidance.”
“She needs to go back to school,” my father muttered under his breath. Then a smile lit up his face.
Speaking of family successes…
He spread his arms, delight on his face as three identical redheaded young women entered the living room.
I quickly made myself an extra-strong eggnog while my parents fussed over the triplets.
“Look at how much you’ve grown!” my mom’s second cousin gushed over my ever-so-slightly younger sisters.
Great-Aunt Gladys and Great-Aunt Eleanor also shuffled over.
Yep, family members who had missed the drama last Christmas were coming out of the woodwork. Guess everyone wanted to be there in person to see how much I’d fuck up this year instead of being forced to watch the aftermath on Facebook like a commoner.
We’re not going to screw up, I reminded myself as I downed my eggnog and made another. We’re going to be a helpful niece-slash-cousin-slash-daughter, and hopefully after another ten years of that, we’ll be back in the family’s good graces.
“What a blessing to have such wonderful daughters.” Eleanor’s hearing aid gave a loud beep.
“I love my girls.” My dad tucked the triplets under his arms.
My parents had had three boys then had trouble conceiving and really wanted a girl.
Enter yours truly, stage right.
It wasn’t six months later that my mom gave birth to surprise triplets. And not just any triplets—they were her doppelgangers, little mini-mes with model-good looks, sparkling personalities, and the ability to breeze through even the most advanced chemistry coursework.
The perfect daughter my mom always dreamed of, and she got three of them.
Too bad she and my dad were stuck with me. I looked nothing like my lithe Scottish-Nordic parents who could be elf extras in Lord of the Rings. I was a sun-swarthy fifty-year-old Italian peasant woman who subsisted on carbs, garlic, and cheese and could grow a mustache better than my fair-skinned, redheaded brothers when I was thirteen.
“They graduated early from Brown University,” my mother gushed to Great-Aunt Gladys, “just like me and Brian. And Henry and Declan, of course.” She blew a kiss to my eldest two brothers. “You remember Henry. He almost died in the war. It was heartbreaking.”
My mom’s sisters rolled their eyes. “Like you’d ever let anyone forget.”
“A war hero and three beautiful daughters!” The great-aunts congratulated my mom.
“They’re not just beautiful. The girls already have job offers,” Dad gushed.
“We’re all working at Svensson PharmaTech!” Alissa gave an effortlessly beautiful smile—with dimples.
“Just got our offer letters.” Alana held up an envelope.
“We already told them we accept!” Alexis was giddy.
My three sisters shrieked and hugged each other.
My dad whistled appreciatively as he inspected their letters.
“Look at that salary. Guess you’re going to be buying us nice Christmas presents this year.”
“Oh, stop it, Brian!” My mom swatted him playfully then kissed him. “You girls don’t have to get us anything. We’re just so happy to have you home for Christmas. Your rooms are all ready.”
Yeah, they were, because I’d spent all afternoon cleaning and putting on fresh sheets.
“Seven children.” Great-Aunt Eleanor turned to her sister. “Seven children, and she looks like that.” They marveled at my mother’s willowy body as she pretended not to bask in the compliments. My mom lived for these moments.
“She didn’t birth all of them,” Aunt Lisa butted in. “Don’t give her that much credit. She adopted that one.”
All the attention was now on me.
Slowly back away. Hide under the table.
I pretended to be heavily invested in my plate of appetizers.
“There she is.” Aunt Gladys tapped her sister excitedly. “I missed the big finale last Christmas. I can’t believe she slept with her aunt’s husband.”
“No, it was her sister’s husband.”
“It was my fiancé,” Felicity interjected.
“It sounds more exciting than the Christmas of fifty-four.” The hearing aid gave another loud beep. “Remember when Mildred showed up pregnant, not married, no boyfriend, and told everyone it was Aunt Dee’s husband’s baby?”
“Lord, and then Great-Granny Mae keeled over, dead as a doornail. Now, that was family drama.” Great-Aunt Eleanor thumped her walker on the carpet.
“Are you pregnant?” Great-Aunt Gladys demanded, pointing her cane at me.
“Uh, no?” I rasped.
“Who’s going to get her pregnant?” Felicity demanded. “I mean, look at her.”
Aunt Trish, reeking of spiced rum, hugged me to her chest.
“Let their negative energy flow over you. It is perfectly natural for a woman to have facial hair.”
“Sawyer didn’t do a waxing for you? Honestly, honey.” Sawyer’s mom peered down at my face. “If you’re going to shame the family and become a back-alley beautician, you could at least keep your clients on a regular waxing schedule.”
“I waxed her two days ago,” Sawyer stated.
Aunt Virginia shook her head. “They have these little face razors you can get from Korea. Why don’t you order her some, Sawyer?”
“You need to find a man that loves you just the way you are.” Aunt Trish tossed her tie-dye scarf over her shoulder.
“Yeah, a furry.” My brother Declan snickered.
Sawyer kicked him, and he grabbed his shin, wincing.
“You’re a father now and, for some godforsaken reason, a doctor. Can you act like an adult?”
“My bad, Evie. Guess I can’t make a request for the next holiday dinner?” my brother begged.
“Let him starve.” His wife glared at him.
“Just text me what you want,” I said weakly.
Great-Aunt Gladys patted my hand. “I’m looking forward to what you have planned. I’m not missing a holiday party this December just in case. I have a feeling this year’s going to be a doozy!”
My family was biting back laughter, giving each other snide looks and whispering my name.
There it was… the shame, moldy and rotten in my gut.
I was the gross marzipan-filled chocolate truffle in the box next to all the more desirable ones—never living up to the promise, not worth the hype, not worth the money.
I was never going to belong in the Murphy family, was never going to be forgiven.
My life was as good as over.
Witness the last dying gasps of Evie Murphy’s hopes and dreams—forced to perform holiday party after holiday party, listening to my parents’ relatives make passive-aggressive remarks until the final door opened on the advent calendar and I was kicked out onto the street.
I was trapped. The room was closing in. It was too warm.
I shoved my plate of snacks and my drink at Sawyer. “I’ll be right back.”