Free Christmas at the Beach by Wendy Wax

is the pancakes with the smiley face formed
     with chocolate bits and peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches shaped like stars. Is that
     too selfish for words?
    She unwraps her arms from around me but holds on to my hand. I don’t know if she signals
     them that it’s okay or they’ve been watching and waiting for the right moment, but
     Avery, Nikki, and Deirdre come back bearing more wine. I try not to be mad that they
     knew about my parents before I did. Timing isn’t really the point.
    Nicole fills everyone’s glasses and I take a long drink.
    “Are you okay?” Avery asks.
    I nod even though I’m not. The tears are on intermittent now, but I can’t seem to
     locate the OFF switch. It’s small of me. I think I’ve already used the words childish and selfish,
     but I can’t help it. I’m both of those things. I just can’t bear to be the only one
     dealing with bad news. So I raise my glass. “I guess this is as good a time as any
     to share some news.”
    I have their attention now and I don’t let myself stop and think about whether this
     is the best time to share it. “Daniel bought Bella Flora. He’s the mystery buyer.
     Tonja Kay called today to tell me how pissed off she is about it.”
    I see the shock and horror on their faces, but I’m beyond caring. “She can’t wait
     to get her hands on it. She and her designer.” Deirdre once worked for Tonja Kay,
     but not anymore. “She’s thinking about gutting the first floor so that they can build
     an indoor pool.”
    No one speaks or moves. No one even lifts a glass to her lips or so much as swallows.
     I’m not sure anyone is breathing.
    “So I guess my one good thing is that we won’t be here when he moves Tonja Kay, their
     kids, and her interior designer into the place she referred to as
Bella fucking Flora
.”

Eight
    We’re sitting in a stunned silence when Troy walks up from the beach. Once the sunset
     is complete, the camera-free zone ceases to exist, so his camera is on his shoulder.
     The men are right behind him. My father is holding Dustin’s hand. Chase and his father
     and sons are arranged around him. Andrew brings up the rear. They look like a batch
     of linemen in a protective formation around a miniature quarterback.
    The pack of paparazzi straggle up the path behind them and plant themselves in the
     no-man’s-land of scrub and sand that lies between Bella Flora and the jetty. Apparently
     no real celebrities or celebrity look-alikes have popped up in the Tampa Bay area.
     We will have to do.
    I brush my lips across Dustin’s sandy forehead and brush a dark curl back out of his
     eye, but I don’t meet my father’s eye when he hands Dustin to me, and I don’t speak
     when Troy begins to herd us inside for the grand announcement of the location of our
     next
Do Over.
I’m not sure how it’s possible to seethe and go numb at the same time, but that’s
     what I’m doing. I am an emotional Oreo cookie—hard and crumbly on the outside, soft
     and seething in the middle.
    Avery goes up on her tiptoes to whisper something in Chase’s ear.
    He swears, and I know she’s told him about Daniel buying Bella Flora. Chase poured
     his heart, his skills, and his money into both of her renovations. I hope Avery’s
     spared him the part about the indoor pool. And that I’m not around when he tells his
     dad.
    “All right, everybody.” Troy continues to herd us toward the house, filming as we
     go. “We’re going to shoot the reveal in the salon.”
    Just before the doors close behind us, I hear Nigel and Bill and the paparazzi at
     their backs begging for one more shot. A smile. Anything. Even a mooning from my brother
     or one of the Hardin boys would probably make their day. But I don’t turn around.
     They’ve had every bit of the golden hour when the light is best to get shots of Dustin
     on the beach. That’s as close to a Christmas present as they’re going to get from
     me.
    Inside the lights are still twinkling