Our Totally, Ridiculous, Made-Up Christmas Relationship

There’s always a ‘but’.

“But, your experience is a bit lacking. Perhaps work now on building your résumé, getting more experience. When you do that, come back and see me again.”

I hear my Dad in my ears, echoing how I’m a loser and need to get a real job. Placing my hands on the edges of her desk, I search for a voice that sounds confident and not beggarly. “Mrs. Ericks, I can do this. I know I can be a big benefit to your agency, and I know I will benefit from your agency’s representation. I get it—I lack the impressive credentials you are looking for. I didn’t study theater at the top schools, or lock in my first commercial at the age of three. But this is what I want. This is who I am. From the bottom of my soul, I promise you better than my best. I promise you the top of the line. I won’t disappoint you, and failure is not an option. There’s something inside me telling me I’m in the right place. This is supposed to be my home. All I need you to do is invite me in.”

She’s quiet for a moment, staring at me with eyes that are filling with emotion. She’s giving in. She’s going to let me in.

Suddenly, her office door bursts open and a woman wearing way too much make-up stumbles in, her face pale. Even with the make-up she looks freaking awful. “Stacey—sorry to interrupt. We are swamped out here with auditions for the toothpaste commercial and I have—” Her hand flies to her mouth as a gagging sounds comes out and her body starts to quiver. Shifting quickly to the garbage can, the lady starts upchucking her lunch, breakfast, and the rest of the week’s menu.

“Oh my gosh. Grace! Go home!” Stacey stands, and moving closer to her co-worker, checks to see if she’s all right as she ushers her toward the door.

No! Come back! You were just about to sign me!

“Mr. Reece.” Stacey turns to me and gives me a sad grin. “Thank you for coming in. Remember, when you get those additional résumé builders please, stop by again. In the front lobby there is some information on acting classes and headshots from photographers. Please hang out for as long as you wish.”

No. No! Rejection. Failure. Loser. Dismissal.

Walking out of the office, I hang around in the lobby for a while, watching real actors coming in for real auditions. I sit there, pretending to be one of them, make believing. I don’t go home right away, because the moment I walk out of this building, I know my once-in-a-lifetime shot

at a real acting career will be nothing more than a memory.

“Ms. Peterson, no offense, but I’m not going to let you win this time. Oh, did I tell you about my family trip coming up?” I exhale noisily, moving my checker pieces across the board.

On Thursdays I always take a half-day from work so I can volunteer at the Outers Retirement home. Nursing homes just so happen to smell like a million of grandparents’ homes all at once; kind of like a mixture of candy and liniment. I love coming to Outers; the people here are so amazing to interact with in this place. It’s so important to give back to the community, remembering that the elderly need love too and…Ah hell.

Really I come here to complain about my dysfunctional family because all my friends and co-workers are sick of hearing about it. The old people don’t care either, but most of the time they are just happy to have someone playing checkers with them. I would play chess—but do I look like Einstein? Trust me, I don’t look like Einstein.

“I mean, I’m trying my best not to think about it too much, and there’s not much I can do to take away from the awkwardness of it all, but well, here we are.” I sigh and double jump the red checker chip over the black. “Do you think I’m overthinking it? Mom said I’m overthinking it, but let’s be honest. She also said I was overthinking the fact that Danny wasn’t going to propose and look at us now.” My eyes shift to my ringless finger and an unattractive, heavy frown takes over my lips. Mom should have named me Pathetic. It seems more fitting.

I look up to the old woman sitting across from me, who is smiling wide and nodding in response. Happy listeners are the best listeners, so I keep on yapping. “I know what you’re thinking. Why didn’t the jerk propose? Well, probably because he was too busy getting it on with my nasty ho-bag of a sister. There are so many days I wish I had a sibling redo. I wish I could take her and push her back into Mom’s va-jay-jay and get another sister. A real sister, not a ho-bag sister.” The elderly woman smiles even bigger and nods some more.

I bite my bottom lip, grinding my teeth into my flesh and narrow my eyes. “Did you forget to put in your hearing aids, Ms. Peterson?” No response other than a big fake dentures smile and nodding. “Perfect. Anyway, at least this time I have someone to take home with me for the Christmas weekend at the cabin. Mom kept reminding me about the fact that I’ve ditched the last three years and she guilt-tripped me by saying Grandma probably doesn’t have many more years with us because she’s as old as a bat—no offense.”

Nod. Smile. Smile. Nod.

“Besides, this Christmas is going to be special.” Reaching into my coat pocket, I pull out a ring box and watch Ms. Peterson’s eyes widen with joy. Leaning in toward her I whisper, “Richard’s going to propose!”

“HA!” is the sound that travels to my ears from old man Eddie, who’s sitting at a table across the room. “Sunshine, how do you know a man’s going to propose? Either he does or he doesn’t!”

“Shut it, Eddie. He left it under the bed this morning.”

“You mean he dropped it under the bed this morning.” Eddie snickers as he rolls his wheelchair over to the table, joining Ms. Peterson and me.

Rolling my eyes I shrug my shoulders. “Po-tay-to! Po-tah-to! Whatever! I’m engaged!”

“He didn’t ask you.”

I frown, staring at the sparkling, somewhat underwhelming diamond. “Must you put such a damper on this?”

“Listen sweetheart, you’ve been dating this guy for what, seven months? He’s not the one. And when you’ve been around as long as I have, you realize that you should let them go and not waste your time. He’s not for you.”

Running the ring through my fingers I sigh, “He’s the one for me. Not everyone can be like you and Ms Peterson.”

Ms. Peterson laughs as Eddie takes her hand into his and kisses it, making her instantly transform into a high school teenager. They met each other a few years ago here and are the main couple of the nursing home. Ms. Peterson has been known to beat off other women who give Eddie googly eyes. I appreciate her ability to mark her territory, as it’s something I wish I could have done in my past.

“Julie Anne, the loser’s idea of date night is ordering Chinese food and having you watch him play something about calling and duties all night long.”

I hate when Eddie uses my full name. It makes it seem like he’s scolding me. “I like those nights. Besides, he’s finally ready to meet my family. He’s coming to Wisconsin with me. I think he’s going to propose in front of my parents!”