Elf Against the Wall: A Holiday Romantic Comedy (The Wynter Brothers Book 2)
Elf Against the Wall: Chapter 52

Ah, Christmas Eve.

This time last year, I was being sent to my room, everyone believing that I’d been a crazy stalker after my cousin’s boyfriend.

It had been hands down the worst day of my entire life, including that time in seventh grade when I’d firmly believed that Nathaniel Whitman III was secretly in love with me but too afraid to show it, and I kissed him in front of everyone at the awards ceremony.

Are you seeing a pattern here? Because I was, in retrospect.

I’d thought Anderson was different, believed him when he’d said he loved me, and let myself dream of a future when I didn’t have to go through life dragging along the weighted refuse of all my poor decisions. I’d thought I could have a clean slate, that I could be someone else, that I could finally live up to the promise of the first Murphy daughter.

Anderson had made me feel whole—two fucked-up people in a fucked-up world. We were made for each other. Or so I’d thought. But he wasn’t special. He was just like all the other shitty men and boys I’d flung myself at.

No more. I was firmly on Team Murphy.

Blinking back angry, heartbroken tears, I turned back to the Scotch eggs I was making for Christmas Eve appetizers.

Sawyer opened the door to the kitchen, hesitant, letting in the hubbub from the front rooms along with Snowball.

The fluffy white dog went to my feet to beg for scraps.

“Man, Evie, you’re not having any kind of Christmas.” Sawyer wrapped me in a big hug.

I sniffled in her arms.

“You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me. You should probably go comfort Ian.”

“Ian is such a drama queen.” She released me. “The insurance company’s not pressing charges as long as he testifies against his boss. Your mom, of course, is beside herself.”

“I really screwed up.” I picked up the next soft-boiled egg to wrap sausage around it. “I should never have trusted Anderson. You were right. He’s a bad person.”

“He did some good stuff. Honestly, aside from trying to kill Henry and almost getting Ian sent to prison, he’s my favorite of all the terrible guys you hooked up with. At least the man could play hockey.”

“Ian’s never going to forgive me.”

“Ian’s living for the drama. He did an interpretive Nutcracker Prince dance in the middle of Times Square.” She smirked. “He called it his fired-for-Christmas dance and posted it online. He already got two hundred likes. Uncle Brian is mad because he was hoping this would be a wakeup call for Ian to go get a real career. Instead, he’s doubling down.”

“I can’t trust myself,” I said sadly. “It felt so real. It felt like he really wanted to build a life with me, like we were really going to be a team, like we were in love.”

Snowball wound around my ankles to sit on my foot.

“I’m done with men,” I promised. “I’m never letting this happen again. I’m a changed woman.”

“Yeah, until the next guy.”

“There won’t be a next guy.” I flicked the switch to turn on the deep fryer.

“Never change, Evie Murphy.”

It was my best dinner yet.

Like a Norman Rockwell painting, my family gathered around the table laden with food—a beef Wellington, a giant roasted turkey, and a glistening ham the stars of the Christmas Eve dinner.

“You really know how to bring out a crowd,” Granny Doyle said, patting me on the shoulder as I wiped a speck of sauce off the edge of a platter with the corner of my apron. “Folks I haven’t seen in a decade showed up pretending like they were invited.”

My mom was soaking up the attention, while several of her sisters scoffed in the corner.

The Murphys were a perfect family. I was so lucky to have been adopted by my parents, and I vowed then and there I was going to do everything I could do be worthy of them.

“Can we eat?” Declan called out over the hubbub. “I’m starving.”

“We need to have a toast first.” My father raised his glass.

“Wait!” I shouted, jumping onto an ottoman and almost falling off.

“Aw yeah!” An out-of-town cousin whooped.

The others pumped their fists.

The phone cameras focused on me as I pinwheeled my arms, trying to right my balance.

“Um.” I swallowed. “Before we get started on dinner, I just wanted to say a few words.”

“Haven’t you done enough, Evie?” my mother demanded.

“Let her speak!” Granny Doyle yelled, incurring chants from my more inebriated cousins.

My mother took an angry sip of her wine.

“By now, everyone knows that I invited the Grinch into Whoville, and he almost ruined Christmas,” I began. “I just want to formally apologize to the entire family. My actions were not reflective of how I was raised. I’m going to do better in the future.”

My mother seemed skeptical.

“Henry.” I addressed my eldest brother. “I have to apologize to you. I shouldn’t have brought the man who tried to kill you home for Christmas. It was cruel of me, and I’m sorry.”

Henry’s cheeks were hollowed in annoyance or anger or maybe flat-out hatred at this point.

“Ian, I know you’ll never forgive me for ruining your dance career, but I am so sorry, and I will make it up to you.”

My brother crossed his arms. “Apology not accepted.”

Sawyer kicked him.

My voice cracked. I tried to keep it together.

“I’m committed this next year to doing everything I can to make it up to you all. You need a party planned, dinner cooked, house decorated, children babysat? I’m there.”

My family made appreciative noises.

Henry had his arms crossed. I guess I’d hurt him way more than I’d realized.

I doubled down. “In the spirit of being a Murphy, I’d like to offer my service to help Gabe and Madeline grow their family. Maybe something good can come out of this.”

“I’m going to be a grandma!” Aunt Kerry screamed.

Suddenly, it was happening: People were proud of me! They loved me! My aunt hugged me, and my cousins were excited. I was back in my family’s good graces. I’d done it. Deliriously happy, I accepted the adulation.

My mom was telling everyone how I had birthing hips and she would personally make sure I didn’t ruin the baby.

“You need to be careful,” one of the family doctors was saying. “You’ve never had a baby before, Evie. This isn’t a joke.”

“They’re not paying her,” several cousins whispered.

“I’d need to be paid to get pregnant again after birthing his big ass,” Aunt Virginia said, grabbing the back of her son’s head.

“Does this mean you’re going on a date with Whiney Wendell?” Nat asked then tipped back the last of the wine in her glass.

“Mom, they’re not supposed to call me that,” my cousin complained to Aunt Abby.

I gulped. “I mean, in the spirit of being a good Murphy… why not?”

“No!” Henry shouted.

“Nothing’s wrong with my Wendie.” His mom was offended.

“No,” Henry said, pushing through the crowd. “Evie’s not going on a date with Wendell. She’s not having your fucking baby, Gabe. You have more than enough money to hire someone. She’s not washing your cars or cooking your food.”

“Henry, I fucked up,” I told him gently. “I need to make amends.”

“You didn’t fuck up, Evie. You’re not a bad person. You’re not a bad Murphy. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He closed his eyes and took a breath, like he was in excruciating pain.

“The truth is…” His mouth moved, but no sound came out.

“I—Anderson didn’t try to kill me.” He doubled over like the lie had been the only thing holding him together, and now that the truth was out, he was falling apart.

“I don’t understand.” My hands shook.

Henry half straightened.

“I fucked up, back there in the desert. I fucked up. I was messing with something I shouldn’t have. Anderson saved my life. He saved me. I’d be dead without him. Mom, I’m sorry. I begged him not to say anything, not to snitch on me, because I didn’t want to get an NJP. Anderson just shook my hand and swore he wouldn’t say a word.” Henry gave our parents a pleading look. “I didn’t want you all to be disappointed in me, Dad. And then you were there, at the hospital, both of you.”

He took a gulping breath while our family watched in shock.

“You don’t understand,” he said to our horrified family. “They were both there. I had them all to myself, and they kept treating me like a hero, like I was their favorite person in the world—taking care of me. The military kept saying Anderson was at fault, and I knew I should fess up, knew it was wrong, but I just wanted…”

“You wanted to bask in the unconditional love,” I said weakly.

He nodded. “You know what it was like with seven of us. I was the eldest. I wasn’t supposed to need our parents. Yet suddenly, for once in my life, I had Mom and Dad’s love and attention. All of it. All for me. It was addicting. I didn’t think anyone was going to get hurt until it was too late. I thought Anderson was going to tell them what really happened. I kept thinking he’d save himself up until they hauled him away to jail.”

I was shaking. I felt sick.

This isn’t happening.

“I can’t let you throw your life away for a lie, Evie.” Tears shone in his eyes.

“I, um…” I rolled my apron under my hands, twisting the hem. “See, the problem is…” I said, not able to look at the grief, the heartbreak, the guilt in my brother’s eyes. Because even though we weren’t related, even though we didn’t look anything alike, I knew I’d see my own expression mirrored in his.

“The problem is that I already did throw my life away for the lie. I threw him away, and I told him I hated him, and I told him he was bad and that I could never love a man like him, and I already lost him, Henry, so it’s too late. It’s over.”

I stepped off the ottoman.

“I am so, so sorry,” Henry said.

My mother let out a sob.

I untied my apron.

“I knew it!” Aunt Amy shouted. “I knew it. You always acted like the perfect wife and mother, and the rest of us just shouldn’t even bother. Turns out your son sent an innocent man to prison. Mom.” She turned to Granny Doyle. “Are you just going to let her get away with this?”

“It’s not a good look, Mel,” Granny Doyle said, shaking her head. “That poor bastard.”

“We can’t tell anyone!” my mother cried. “You can’t tell anyone, Henry. You’ll lose your job. You’ll lose everything. Your father and I worked so hard. We’ll pay Anderson off. Send him a gift basket.”

“He’s not going to say anything,” Henry said dully.

“Well, that’s fine. That’s good, then.” My mother wiped her eyes. “It’s like this never happened. Let’s all have dinner.”

“I have to tell people, Mom,” Henry said gently. “I can’t keep lying.”

“But your job!”

“Control your children, Melissa!” Grandma Shirley thundered. “I knew you weren’t good enough for my son. And now you’ve dragged the Murphy name through the mud. We’ll be the laughingstock of the town. We’ll all have to move. We’ll be ostracized, sued. I should never have let you marry my Brian. You have managed to raise both a liar and a slut. You don’t deserve the Murphy name.”

“Oh, shut the hell up!” Granny Doyle interrupted. “My daughter didn’t ruin the Murphy name. You want to know why? Because Brian’s not a Murphy.”

Gasps of surprise came from my father’s siblings.

“That red hair wasn’t a recessive gene. It was just the gardener in a pair of skintight jeans.”

“Lies! Slander!” Grandma Shirley screeched.

My dad’s brother poured him a stiff drink.

“It is true! I know because I slept with him too!” Granny Doyle declared.

“Oh my god!” Aunt J exclaimed. “Mel, did you marry your brother?”

My mom grabbed the bottle of vodka and downed several swallows.

“Nah,” Granny Doyle said. “I know how to use a condom. Also, I did a DNA test just to be sure because I’m hip with the times. Now who’s the slut—but not in a slut-shaming way!”

“You see what you did?” My mother shouted at Henry. “You ruined Christmas.”

Henry clapped a hand over his mouth.

Granny Doyle dumped out a wine bucket and handed it to him just in time for Henry to puke.

“Christmas is ruined.” My mom sobbed as my dad stroked her back.

“Henry didn’t ruin Christmas, Mom!” I yelled at her. “And neither did I. You ruined Christmas. You and Dad, because you ruin everything.”

“How dare you, Evie?”

“You push and play favorites, and all your love comes with conditions no one can meet without cheating. You have impossible standards. You criticize constantly. You tear people down and make them doubt themselves. You’re horrible parents. You failed us. You failed Henry, you failed Ian, and you failed me.”

Henry clutched his sterling-silver puke bucket.

“Anderson was right. You all never accepted me. None of you,” I said to the Murphys. “I’m just an interloper. I tried so hard to be a good Murphy. So hard. I gave everything, and it means nothing. You don’t want me in this family. You never did. I didn’t see it until it was too late, and now I’ve lost the best thing that ever happened to me. My one shot at true love. And yeah, he’d never be the perfect son-in-law, but I’m not the perfect daughter. So he and I can run away and be fuckups together, or we would if I hadn’t believed you and screwed it up!”

“Evie, you can’t leave,” my father ordered as I headed to the door.

I grabbed my coat. Snowball came running.

“Evie, I’m warning you. We need to all talk this out like adults.”

“Guess what, Dad?” I zipped up my coat. “It’s Christmas Fucking Eve, and I didn’t get a job. That means per your ‘boundaries,’ I have to get my shit and get out.” I wrenched the front door open. “Which I am more than happy to do. I hope you have a merry fucking Murphy Christmas.”