by Becky Monson
“Yeah. Crazy, right? I mean, I’m twenty-six and my parents are getting divorced.” I still hadn’t let that all sink in. I think I was in the denial phase.
“Wow, I don’t think I could have predicted that one. I mean, your parents always seemed happy when they were here,” Andy said.
I shrugged one shoulder. “They probably were. A lot can change in eight years.”
“True,” he agreed. “What about Savannah? Boston?” Andy was really the only friend of mine who knew much about my siblings, having been right next door. Except for Piper, of course. My sister was four years older than me and my brother was four years younger. Which means we never crossed paths in middle school or high school.
“Sav’s living near my parents in Arizona. She’s married, has two kids—Rome and Phoenix.” I pulled up one side of my mouth in a half grin, wondering if he remembered.
Andy’s mouth fell open. He remembered. “She didn’t.”
“Yep. She sure did.” I drew out the last part for emphasis, adding my best Southern twang as I did.
My siblings and I were all named after the cities we were conceived in, which my parents thought made for a good story. I found it to be a super gross story. I mean, that’s not something people need to know. I’d thought Savannah felt the same way, but apparently not. At least Rome was kind of cool for a boy. A cool place to be conceived as well. But poor Phoenix . . . she had to live in the town she was conceived in and then named after.
Andy chuckled, shaking his head while he did. “And Boston?”
“Boston just graduated from college and started a job in Scottsdale. I think he’s into bond trading, or something way over my head.”
“And what about you?” He took his elbows off the table and leaned back in the booth. “Fill me in on what I’m sure is London’s very exciting life,” he said, the last part sounding like a sports announcer.
I laughed and relaxed back in the booth as well. “Um, not exciting . . . no.”
“Really? Why not?”
I looked down at the table, my eyes focusing on the laminate with its Christmas tree pattern. It was in dire need of refurbishing.
I looked back up at Andy. “It’s not bad, just not exciting.”
He pondered for a second, his eyes steady on me. “Where are you living?”
“I’m in San Francisco, actually.”
“So not in Arizona?”
“That was by design,” I said. And that was true, I didn’t want to be near Phoenix, front and center for all the family drama. Although my mother called me constantly to make sure I was abreast of any and all situations. Near or far, there was no getting away from it in the Walsh family.
“Where are you working these days?”
I gave him a sheepish grin. “I’m . . . between jobs.”
“Oh.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Where were you working before?”
I let out a breath. Might as well talk about it, even though I’d rather not. “I was working as the growth marketing manager for a small software startup.” I purposefully left out that this had been my fifth job since college graduation.
“What happened?”
“I quit.”
“Why?”
I let out a slow breath. “My ex-boyfriend was promoted to be my boss.”
“Oh,” he said, nodding his understanding.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“And when was that?”
“Um . . . yesterday.”
“So yesterday you quit your job, found out that your parents are getting divorced—”
“And finally opened the letter from Miss Anna Cate telling me all about how she’s doing,” I interjected.
“Wow, that’s quite the day,” he said. “You deserve an award or something. Lilly!” he called, waving over at Lilly, who was behind the counter talking to a man sitting on one of the stools. “Give this girl extra whipped cream on her shake, please. On me,” he said with a wink. She didn’t acknowledge him.
“What about you?” I asked wanting to steer the conversation away from me. “Still burying spring lizards?”
The corners of his mouth turned up, and then he chuckled. “You remembered that.”
“Of course I do. I think of it every time I see a lizard.”
“Are there many in San Fran?”
“Sadly, no.”
“Well, since there’s no money to be made in lizard burial, I got into computers,” he said.
It turns out, as I was informed, that my little Andy—who was not so little anymore—graduated from college with a degree in information systems. He moved to Chicago after that, where he worked for a start-up tech company that eventually became quite the heavy hitter for customer relationship management software. He made a nice sum when the company went public three years ago. His life, at least on paper, seemed like it was right on track. The map of my life looked like one of those loopty-loop roller coaster rides.
“So, what made you come back here from Chicago?” I asked, wondering why he would ever leave a place he talked so fondly of.
“I never felt like Chicago was home, you know?” he said.
I did know. I knew all too well.
“No friends? No . . . girlfriend?” I don’t know why it was hard for me to ask that. It wasn’t like Andy and I had never dated people when we were in high school. It just felt weird to ask him now that we were adults.
“Yes to the friends, no to the girlfriend. Not by the time I left there,” he said. “I had great friends, but the city life . . . it just wasn’t for me.”
I’d never really thought of it, but maybe the big city life wasn’t for me either. Maybe that was my problem. Big cities always seemed like where I wanted to be. I remember visiting Nashville with my mom back when we lived in Christmas Falls. All the big buildings and the energy of the people walking around—it felt magical. It probably didn’t help that my mom kept telling me about how much she missed the city life when we’d go for a visit. Living in a big city, though, that was a whole different experience. I loved it at first, but lately it had become almost too much. Too many people, too many buildings, too many cars.
“And now you’re back,” I said to Andy.
“I’m back,” he said, spreading his lean but muscular arms out. “And I’m working at the resort, doing their IT.”
Lilly interrupted us when she set down our shakes and fries. She brought me a small bowl filled to the brim with more whipped cream and told Andy it was on the house. I’d forgotten that nothing ever got by that woman.
We chatted as we ate the fries and enjoyed the shakes. It felt so good to be here with Andy. It was just like old times, the same banter, the same jokes. I had friends in San Francisco. But I never connected with them like I had with Andy, or Piper, or the rest of the girls. The friendships I made all those years ago were some of the best I’d ever had. They should have withstood the test of time, yet somehow they hadn’t. It made me sad to think that we’d lost touch. And that I hadn’t even tried.
After closing down the diner, with Lilly giving us a death stare similar to the teenager at the grocery store, Andy walked me back to the cottage, claiming that it wasn’t safe for me to walk by myself. I doubted there had been a crime committed in Christmas Falls since its founding. But I let him walk me, because it did feel safe, and also because I found myself not wanting the night to end. If anything, this night alone had made the trip worth it.
“How long are you in town?” Andy asked when we stopped in front of the cottage and I fished around in my purse for my room key. The house was mostly dark except for a lone light that could be seen from the window, probably there so guests could find their way around the place after the Curtises went to bed.
“Well,” I said, drawing out the word. “Miss Anna Cate asked me to sing in the pageant.”
“So you’ll be here for Christmas?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
“That was the original plan, but . . .” I trailed off.
; “But what?”
“I was thinking of visiting Miss Anna Cate tomorrow and then just taking off.”
“And not sing in the pageant?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “This trip has been a bust so far . . . until I ran into you. And I just . . . I don’t know.” I looked down at the room key now in my palm. The street light reflected off its metal exterior.
“You have to sing in the pageant. You need to wear the red Santa hat and do the dance. At the very least, you need to stay for that.”
“That’s like at the bottom of the list of reasons for staying,” I said.
“Stay,” he said. “I mean, I just found you.” He reached a hand up and briefly touched my arm, his fingers gliding softly over my coat. “And you could have Christmas with my family.”
The realization that I had no real plans for Christmas dawned on me just then. What was I going to do on Christmas day? Was I just going to spend it alone? By myself at the Poinsettia Cottage? I supposed I could have spent it with Miss Anna Cate, but as far as she knew I wasn’t even in town. This trip really had not been thought through.
“Thanks for the offer,” I said. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“Not an intrusion, my mom and dad would love to see you. And Nicky too,” he said. “At least think about it. You came all this way. You might as well see it through to the end. And you have me to hang out with now.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Come on. Stay. I’ll make it worth it if you do.”
“I’ll think about it,” I said, giving him a grin.
We exchanged numbers and he told me he’d be calling me tomorrow. Before he left, he leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek, something he had never done before. But maybe this is what adult Andy and London did. I reached up on my tiptoes afterward and returned the kiss on his cheek, which I didn’t think anyone did in any culture, but it was too late, the deed was done.
CHAPTER FIVE
I stayed up late that night binge watching a Friends marathon and slept in until noon the next day because I had nothing better to do. Then I hung out in my room for a few more hours, not sure I wanted to venture out into town and have no one recognize me again.
I popped downstairs to say hello to the Curtises and secretly hoped that they had some breakfast leftover because I was starving. I found Mr. Curtis restringing some lights that apparently had died, and Mrs. Curtis was making gingerbread cookies in the kitchen.
“It smells great in here,” I said as I entered the kitchen area. The kitchen wasn’t grand or fancy, but it was just the right size for a bed and breakfast. There was a swinging door next to the refrigerator that led to a small dining area with three small four-top tables that barely fit the space.
“Well thank you, London,” Mrs. Curtis beamed at me. “Would you like something to eat? You never came down for breakfast.”
“Sorry about that. I was up late last night.” I felt like I was telling her that I had stayed out past curfew, nearly forgetting that I was a paying guest at the cottage. It was all too homey and comfortable. And Mrs. Curtis had such a motherly aura to her.
“Well, what can I get for you?” she asked.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’d hate for you to make something just for me.”
“Well, why not? You are the only guest right now,” she said.
“I am?” I looked around as if I’d find some people hiding behind the curtains or something.
“Yes,” she said, opening the refrigerator and peering inside. “I’m afraid business has been slower lately.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Well, I’m sure it will pick up.” This was just something to say. I had no idea how tourism worked and if things would pick up. I could only hope they would.
“Yes, me too,” she said.
After making me a cranberry turkey sandwich that was one of the best things I’d ever eaten, I headed back up to the room to figure out what I was going to do. I needed to see Miss Anna Cate, but I kept procrastinating. It felt like it would be too hard and too final.
Around two in the afternoon, after going back in forth in my head, I realized that this whole trip wasn’t going to work and called the airline to arrange to change my ticket. I got all the way to the end of the process, and even had my credit card out to pay the change fee, but for some reason I couldn’t pull the trigger. So I canceled the changes and decided that I’d give it another day before doing anything.
Not long after hanging up with the airline, my phone beeped with a text from Andy asking me if I wanted to meet up after he was done with work. We agreed on a time, and I finally had something to do. At least there was Andy.
It was weird to be getting texts from him again. Back in high school that was our main mode of communication. Sometimes we’d stay up late into the night texting each other, using those awful flip phones that took forever to type anything out. But it was new and it was novel. At least for us it was. He was the only one I had that kind of relationship with back then. There were a lot of things we did together that I didn’t do with anyone else. Like during the summer, we used to sneak out of our houses and play at night. I think our parents knew but pretended like they didn’t. It was innocent fun, anyway.
I got ready and grabbed my camera, which I had brought with me but had yet to take any pictures with, and headed into town. Maybe I’d stop by the falls and snap some pictures. It was one of my favorite places to take pictures. And then, of course, I’d manipulate the photo, taking the bright colors out and making it darker, but still beautiful. Just beautiful in a different way.
My first stop was the bakery in the grocery store where Mrs. Mitchem was busy decorating a couple of cakes. One for a birthday and one for a Christmas party. I snapped a couple pictures of her creations—not to manipulate and change like I usually did, but to have for myself. I had a few pictures of the bakery when I worked there, but they were mostly of me and Piper acting like idiots, or Andy goofing around.
I also reloaded up on sugar cookies, because why not. I was going to have to go on an all veggie diet when I got back to San Francisco anyway. Might as well enjoy myself while I was here.
I still had an hour before I was meeting up with Andy, and I’d been putting my visit to Miss Anna Cate off long enough. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see her—I did, with all my heart—but I worried that seeing her sick would be too hard. And I was also slightly nervous that she, too, wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t think my heart could handle that. I’d always felt like Miss Anna Cate got me—that she saw through my high school goth exterior and right into my soul. She never judged me, she just loved me, which was exactly what I needed back then. I still needed it.
I started walking over to her small house, not too far from the community center where she volunteered most of her time. I took pictures here and there as I went. It was a nice day, only a slight chill in the air, which added to the ambiance of this little town. I was wearing off-white skinny jeans with a light beige cable knit sweater and cropped heel boots in chocolate brown.
I’d actually taken a little extra time getting ready because I had the time, and I also wanted Andy to see me looking like a normal person and not in my PJs. It was odd that I wanted to make an effort—I mean, this was Andy, my best guy friend growing up. He’d seen me at my absolute worst.
I stood at the doorway readying my hand to knock, feeling butterflies doing back flips and somersaults in my stomach. I was so nervous to see what lay beyond that door. How sick was she? There was only one way to find out.
I heard the rattling of the doorknob and then saw it turn as the door creaked open.
“Miss Anna Cate?” I asked as the door opened wider.
There she stood in a soft pink robe, silky white pajamas, and bunny slippers on her feet. She looked tired and a bit worn around the edges—her face was slightly swollen, as were her hands—but for the most part, she was still Miss Anna Cate. I felt sudden relief at the sight of her. Seeing that she was
still whole gave me hope, and I felt emotions trying to push out from behind my eyes, but I held them in. Not that Miss Anna Cate couldn’t handle my feelings—she’d always been a shoulder to cry on when I was younger—but because I felt like I wanted to be strong for her.
“Well,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “If it isn’t Miss London Walsh standing on my doorstep.”
She opened her arms and I carefully put my arms around her, not wanting to exacerbate any pain she might be having. But when she hugged me tight, I figured I didn’t need to be so cautious, so I reciprocated the hug, holding on to her tightly.
“Let me look at you,” she said as we pulled out of the hug. She grabbed one of my hands as if I might fly away if she let me go, and she stood back looking me up and down. “Don’t you look lovely, my dear,” she said. “You’re all grown up.”
It was then that a tear did escape and travel down the side of my face. She recognized me. And I didn’t think anyone had ever called me a grownup. I was constantly being told to “grow up” by my family, and even I didn’t think I was making grown-up choices these days.
“Come in, let’s have some tea,” she said as I walked in the door.
She gestured for me to take a seat in a dark gray wingback chair in her living room while she clanked and shuffled around the kitchen, humming to herself all the while. I looked around the space and memories of being here came back to me. Practicing for the pageant, Piper, Ashley, Lexi, Morgan, Olivia, and I all gathered around the upright piano while Caitlin played for us. The piano was still in the same spot. The cover was even open, as if someone had played it recently. So many memories here with my friends, so many memories with Miss Anna Cate. The melancholy feeling was back again.
“Here you go,” she said, setting down a tray on the coffee table that filled the space between the couch and the chairs. “So, tell me about you.” She settled into the couch across from me, pulling a blanket over herself as she did. I felt a twinge of sadness run through me. The room was stifling hot to me, and yet she was cold.
“I’m doing pretty good,” I said.