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Christmas in LA

Page 14

by Herb Scribner


  “He did?”

  “He said your week together taught him a lesson. They taught him that there’s a lot to life he’s missing. Time with family, relationships, good food, excitement. He didn’t want to be stuck in this monotonous daily schedule of working with no play. He wanted to be apart of something special, not some business that brought him stress. So he didn’t seek anyone’s permission and made his move. He said you taught him that.”

  “So it wasn’t because I lied?”

  “No, not at all. If anything, he saw you lied because of your complex life. He realized he didn’t have anything complex going on in his life because he was so stuck with the daily routine and the past. He was so stuck thinking about what his wife was going to do to his company that he lost sight of how to make life meaningful.”

  The thought brings a smile to my face. So he didn’t hate me for lying. He actually learned a lesson about dealing with complex emotions. How great that sounds. How perfect that makes me feel. We really did both learn lessons from each other.

  “I must bid you adieu, Ms. Cole. But I would advise you to look underneath your cup. You might find something you’ve been looking for.”

  Chives slowly propels backwards into the air. His red light blinks once, which I’ve taken to mean as a sort of wink. Soon he disappears down the road and into the sky. A welcomed Christmas surprise.

  Ryan doesn’t hate me for what happened. He’s still kind and appreciative of everything we went through together. And that makes me feel happier than anything else could on this day.

  The second Chives is out of sight, I look at the bottom of my cup. Indeed, a piece of paper is taped to the bottom. I peel it off and open it up.

  Noelle — we are both lost. We helped each other see that. Now we must help each other grow. If you find yourself within the year, find me again at the airport where you first got lost.

  —Ryan

  ONE YEAR LATER

  33,

  You can never believe how quickly a year goes by until it does. Throughout the 365 day calendar you complain about how quick time moves. But then you don’t really see it happening until you reach the one-year anniversary of an event.

  It’s Christmas Eve, a year after last year. Nerves rumble and tumble through my stomach. I’ve waited a long time for this day. Christmas has come again. The beautiful jingles and sounds, the twinkling lights, the frosty temperatures.

  So much has changed in the last year. Charity is getting married. She worked through her problems with Joe and the two are getting married this spring. I’m of course going to be her maid of honor. It wasn’t even a question.

  Sadly, they’re moving from the ranch-filled Montana back home to Connecticut. That really sucks. I wish they’d stay with me. But life is an ebb-and-flow of give and take.

  Speaking of bad relationships, Derek finally moved on. He tried calling me over and over throughout the winter, but after the twenty-fifth ignored call, I think he finally got the hint. He started working for Maximum News, an online news organization based out of Maryland. His recent Facebook status said he’s excited to make his dreams come true. Whatever that means.

  I’ve kept up to date on Ryan. Tech companies are always in the news these days. They started marking his every move once he quit NewSurge to see if anything happened to him. He started dating a model named Evangeline Hall from Europe, where he’s lived for the past six months. I’m happy for him.

  And then there’s me, good old Noelle Cole. Traveling from Montana to Connecticut for another holiday at home.

  “Alright, I’ll be at the gate,” Thomas says to me, letting his arm linger an extra second on my hips.

  Oh yeah, I forgot to mention Thomas. He’s an excellent man I met out in Montana this past summer. We were both in a marketing convention in Helena, trapped in the same coffee line. We started talking and somehow we discovered that we were both mutual friends of — yep, you guessed it — Ryan Rain! That was enough to get us to start talking.

  Now here we are. Going home for the holidays. We’re heading out to Kansas to see his family for the holidays. No sense of dread lingers within me. We’ll make it work.

  Thomas kisses me goodbye as he heads off toward the gate. We’ll meet up in a few minutes. I have a promise to make to an old friend.

  I sit alone in the Starbucks cafe in the middle of LAX, waiting patiently for my friend to arrive. We always agreed we’d meet where we were lost, and this makes sense as the only place to see each other again.

  I look down the corridor at the airport and see him and a brunette women. She’s as slender as an icicle, her eyes glowing like Christmas lights. The two smile at each other and share a kiss. He leaves her grasp and walks toward the Starbucks. Before he’s even here, he raises his hand in a wave.

  I stand up to greet him. And for the first time, I hand him a red cup of coffee.

  “The holiday blend?” Ryan asks.

  “With the spices,” I agree.

  We both take a sip, our eyes never leaving each other.

  “So it’s really been a year,” he says.

  “Yes, it has. A year since I was locked in your apartment with an idiot. Ugh. What a jerk.”

  “Hey, if I remember correctly, I made some excellent Christmas cookies. The best in the business.”

  “Sure.”

  “So what are your plans? What are you and Thomas up to?”

  “We’re going to my parents for the holidays. And you and Evangeline?”

  “Paris.”

  “The City of Lights?”

  “You bet.”

  “Sounds like it’ll be fun.”

  “It should be. I’ve enjoyed traveling these last few months. Sometimes it’s nice to come home.”

  “You’re saying you’d rather spend Christmas in LA?”

  “Is it so bad?”

  “Trust me, it’s nothing too great, especially if you’ve never done it.”

  Our conversation fades for a moment as we both take a sip from our coffee. We lock eyes and we see the trust and wonder in each other. Something special happened to us a year ago. Somehow we turned our lives around, all because were stuck together in an apartment together by chance and on a whim.

  It was the most important Christmas either of us have ever had.

  “Well, I’m happy you found someone, who actually loves you back,” I tell him. “And I’m glad you found what you really wanted.”

  “And I’m happy you found someone that you love back,” he says. “And it looks to me like you’re no longer lost.”

  I spin my head back down the corridor, in the direction of the gate where I’ll join Thomas later. We’ll head off to his family’s ranch in Kansas, spend Christmas with his family and we’ll feel so much warmth and love and joy that we’ll never forget the first holiday we spent together.

  Spending the holiday alone? Psh, who needs that.

  “Nope,” I tell Ryan. “Not lost. Not anymore.”

  We continue to sip our coffees, the troubles of our past long gone and out of sight.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Author's note

  I wrote this book in the month of November. I can’t say I wrote it for any particular reason. I enjoy the holiday season and I always find myself wanting to write about it. This year, I took a romantic term, paying homage to many of the relationships I’ve had during the winter months. Little pieces of each of those poke their way through the script. It’s always difficult to revisit past loves and flings, but nonetheless serves as great inspiration for creative material.

  And though I wrote this on my own, as we all know, writing is never a solo project.

  Thanks to everyone who celebrates the holiday spirit. You influenced me more than I can say with this book.

  Thanks to everyone who helped me decide on cover art and the title.

  Thanks to my mom, always wanting to read my book.

  Thanks to Brittany.

  Thanks to anyone w
ho read “A Town Called Santa” last year, inspiring me to write another holiday book,

  Shoutout to all the romance writers out there.

  Herb Scribner was born in South Hadley, Massachusetts. He graduated from the University of Massachusetts with a degree in journalism. He currently works in Salt Lake City at the Deseret News. Herb has been involved in the journalism industry for more than 10 years. Herb worked as a reporter for USA Today College, the Erie Times-News and The Massachusetts Daily Collegian, where he also served as editor-in-chief. Herb has also freelanced for The Boston Globe, The Huffington Post and the Daily Hampshire Gazette within the past three years.

  Contact Herb Scribner

  Hscribner@gmail.com.

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  CHAPTER TWO

  About the author

  Herb Scribner was born in South Hadley, Massachusetts. He graduated from the University of Massachusetts with a degree in journalism. He currently works in Salt Lake City at the Deseret News. Herb has been involved in the journalism industry for more than 10 years. Herb worked as a reporter for USA Today College, the Erie Times-News and The Massachusetts Daily Collegian, where he also served as editor-in-chief. Herb has also freelanced for The Boston Globe, The Huffington Post and the Daily Hampshire Gazette within the past three years.

  Contact Herb Scribner

  Hscribner@gmail.com.

  Goodreads

  Amazon

  Facebook

  Twitter

  Instagram

  MORE BY HERB SCRIBNER

  CHAPTER THREE

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  Nessus

  A New Day

  Not Afraid of You

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