Page 101 of The Lies We Play

Liv: Yeah, nothing says we love Christmas like last-minute plans.

Creed: It works for us.

Liv: Does it?

Creed: Mostly.

Halston: That is a careful answer.

Creed: It is a true answer. We’re not formal about it. Mom decides where, and everyone shows up.

Liv: That sounds nice.

Creed: It is. Unless you have to read the chat.

Liv: Is it bad?

Creed: Well, Vesper sent a poll. Luther responded with a picture of a raccoon. My father asked whether the raccoon was coming. Mom asked if the raccoon has been vaccinated.

Liv: I love them.

Halston: I have several questions.

Creed: My mother says Christmas Eve at Juniper Ridge if the weather cooperates. Christmas Day in the city, if it doesn’t.

Liv: That is both a plan and not a plan.

Creed: Exactly.

Halston: Fascinating.

Liv: You sound like you’re studying a foreign government.

Halston: I am.

Creed: You’d like them.

Halston: Would I?

Creed: My mother would interrogate you politely. My father would feed you. Luther would decide you’re secretly funny. Vesper would know too much in ten minutes.

Halston: I’m not secretly funny.

Liv: You absolutely are.

Halston: I regret this chat.

Liv: You started it with a proposal.

Creed: An indecent one, apparently.

Halston: The proposal stands. January, you move in, temporarily. No pressure.

Liv: You said no pressure like a man applying pressure in a tailored coat.

Creed: He does do that.

Halston: I want both of you close. That is the whole proposal. I can dress it in logistics if that makes it easier. Arena, training facility, library, food, transportation. All true. But not the whole truth.