Postmark Christmas

by Katie Bachand

  “And just how might you know that?”

  Aimeé drank, feigning innocence, and Rachel stared at Casey.

  “He was on a dating site a couple of years back. Not mine,” Casey tried not to sound offended, “but it was easy enough to get ahold of some information.”

  “You haven’t dated since the fall festival date disaster. We decided to give you a little break, but it’s time to get back out there.”

  Grace groaned and covered her eyes with her hand. Rachel was referring to the last date she’d been on. He'd taken grunge to a level that bordered on just plain dirty. She tried to be kind, which he misread, and by hour two, he was professing his love-at-first-sight feelings. More than his smell made it uncomfortable.

  At her recall, Grace reiterated, “No. But I would like you to explain. Why me, why now?” She couldn’t figure out why her well-intentioned friends would think this was a good time for her to begin dating again.

  “Honey, the fall festival date disaster was over a year ago.” Rachel said.

  “And,” Aimeé joined the barrage, “we made a promise to your mom.”

  “About what?” Grace was surprised. What did her mom have to do with this?

  “To look after you. To make sure you still looked for love. For as long as we can remember, you've always wanted a family. It doesn’t just happen without some effort. It was what your mom asked of us when your dad passed away.”

  “You are cold and ruthless. Pick on this one or this one?” Grace sloshed her drink in Rachel’s direction first, then Aimeé’s.

  “Rachel can’t, that’s why I brought the second bottle of wine.”

  “Then, why not you?” Grace pressed.

  “I’m promiscuous and French. I take lovers, not husbands.”

  Unfortunately for Grace, everybody seemed satisfied with that response. And Casey? Well, Casey didn’t need to explain. Casey didn’t believe in relationships. She called herself a realist. After she had witnessed her parents tear each other apart with no regard for her, and often using her as a pawn, she didn’t believe in eternal bliss. And she often reminded whoever was willing to listen, that almost fifty percent of married people would agree, because if they weren’t going through a divorce already, they would be.

  Nodding to herself, Grace gave her friends an answer, “Look, I’m busy with work, and truth-be-told – dating is exhausting. I’m still a romantic, I still love the idea of being in love, holding hands, building a life with somebody…” she drifted off, trying to push away those images she so desperately wanted to be her reality, and continued, “But if it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be. I don’t want to force it. Especially with everything that’s going on at work right now.”

  Casey lifted her glass to toast her friend’s unsettling viewpoint on dating and love, “I’ll cheers to that.” Their glasses clinked, filling the silence until Casey edged in for one final shot: “Right after you meet for drinks tomorrow.”

  “Hypocrite,” Grace said

  “I accept.” Casey smiled at a victory she knew she’d won.

  Knowing there wouldn’t be a way to get out of this date with her stubborn friends leading the charge, Grace’s head fell, defeated, and she agreed. “Fine. But only one. And when this one doesn’t work, there can be no more snooping, no more logging into other people’s online dating accounts, and definitely no more dates without my knowing.” Her finger pointed at each girl in turn as she spoke.

  The girls sipped in triumph, not doing much to hide their smiles behind their quickly emptying wine glasses. Rachel shuffled around in her bag then slid a five across the table to Casey.

  “What?” Rachel asked defensively, seeing Grace’s narrowed eyes. “I never thought you’d agree to it.”

  “And you, what’s your explanation?” Grace demanded, looking to Casey.

  “I knew we were catching you in a moment of weakness. And knew Aimeé would bring out the big guns and mention your mom,” Casey said matter-of-factly.

  Grace rolled her eyes.

  “I can’t talk about this anymore. I’m going to leave it at this and only say it once. If this ends badly, I mean like, serial killer badly, I’m coming back to haunt all of you for the rest of your – what I’ll make terrible – lives.” She looked directly at Aimeé. “And worse, ensure you have terrible sex for the rest of your lives.”

  “Terrible sex, huh?” Rachel asked. “You’re a real ball-buster.”

  “I’m going to need another glass. Hey,” Grace said, gesturing toward Rachel, “start explaining why Rachel can’t date.”

  The hesitation was brief, but it was enough. Grace and Aimeé traded glances with each other after seeing Casey’s eyes. Her expression said she wasn’t quite sure if she was supposed to talk about Rachel’s love life. Meaning there was one. The realization came to the two of them before Casey could get a word out.

  “You’re seeing somebody?” Grace all but cheered while throwing her hands in the air. “This is exciting! What’s his name? What does he do? Is he cute?”

  Rachel shrugged and tried for nonchalance, “His name is Richard. He-”

  “His name is Richard?” Grace didn’t let her go any further.

  Anybody else would have been offended, but Rachel just laughed because she tended to agree that Richard was a pretty unfortunate name.

  “It’s a minor setback for what seems to be a generally good guy. I’m going to tell you his last name, but you have to hold back your comments until I have finished. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Aimeé agreed for the group knowing she would be able to compose herself. The others, probably not.

  “His name is Richard Dick.”

  Snorts came from Grace and Casey as they painfully tried to stifle their laughs. Aimeé wasn’t as lucky. The wine she sipped spewed over the table and sent cabernet droplets flying. Uncontrollable laughter had the girls holding their sides and wiping tears out of their eyes.

  Rachel waited while her friends composed themselves. She rolled her own eyes and tried to hide the humor she shared. Out of duty, she felt like she couldn’t fully participate. She should defend Richard a little.

  “In an effort to keep the floor, I will not be saying his name anymore. He is an engineer. He’s cute in kind of a nerdy way but has a solid foundation. I do not love him yet, but I’m not completely counting it out at this point. I like to believe love does not have to be at first sight, so maybe it will happen over the course of our relationship when we are both ready. He’s a maybe.” She took a breath but saw more questions coming, so hurried on, “We’ve only gone out twice. Once was for coffee and the next was for dinner. So far, he’s getting pretty good at conversation, and I think come date number three he won’t just awkwardly stare at me when we aren’t saying anything. I would say as far as dating and attraction go we are moving in the right direction. I would like him to make it to date number five before I let you all meet him because I would like to fully see how I feel about him at that time without having you yahoos influencing my decision. Now, you may speak.”

  The floor was open. Rachel must have covered a lot of ground with her opening statement, as silence was now filling their close-knit space. After what seemed like minutes of blinking at each other, Casey pulled the crumpled five bucks out of her bag and slapped it in front of Aimeé who gleefully picked it up and put it in her apron. Rachel stared at Aimeé, eyes jokingly narrowed.

  Aimeé shook her head slightly, “What? I told Casey you weren’t in love with him.”

  Grace jumped in. “See how it feels? Come on over to my side of the fence.” She topped off their glasses and clicked hers to the one sitting in front of Rachel.

  CHAPTER 4

  The walk home offered cold and much needed fresh air. A few leaves fell and swirled, swished, and crackled as they scraped the ground before getting swept up into another gust of wind. Grace lifted her head to breathe in the Fall weather that was settling in. The street lights glowed in bright halos on the sidewalk
, guiding her three-block walk home. Not a lot of people understood why she didn’t drive much or why she chose to live within walking distance to work, but at this time of night when the streets were quiet and the night was hers alone, it made perfect sense.

  The hours, sweat, and tears spent at work over the years might have been grueling, but it afforded her the old brownstone. With a little love and a couple of big checks, it had become her sanctuary. The price was steep, even for its rundown condition, but the moment she saw the three-story skinny brick building, she knew it had to be hers. It reminded her of old New York. Rustic, romantic, and utterly charming.

  The fresh air had all but eliminated her three-glass buzz. Okay, maybe four. But she only had one more day; then she was officially on vacation. As she walked up the steps to her massive wooden door, the sobriety set in and she could not believe she’d given in to her friends to go out with a stranger. She was losing her strict don’t-let-people-push-her-around attitude she’d worked hard to build over her years in the corporate world. There was a time to cave a little and a time to hold firm – tonight was a night she should have held firm.

  The lock clicked as the key turned and let her in. She flicked the entry light on and what seemed like a million little crystals danced across her walls. Her shoes clacked to the floor and her bag made a dull thud as she set it on the black and white tile of the foyer. The fireplace sparked to life with a flip of a switch, and warmth filled the room.

  She sat to enjoy it, even if getting up early tomorrow would be terrible. It would be hard seeing as she wasn’t as young as she used to be. The thought of her younger self had her smiling. The one who’d had dreams of buying a place like this. The one who’d had fantasies about one day sharing it with a husband. They would host friends and family for drinks, dinners, and holidays. They would share stories and laugh together, cheer during big games, or gossip about the latest at work. The bedrooms on the third floor would be just enough for their family of four. One master suite big enough for a bassinet, and two little rooms that would transform from nursery to hideaway as their babies grew into teenagers.

  It wasn’t a feeling of sadness or longing as she slid into her leather armchair. She just thought she’d be there by now; that she’d have those things. She thought her dad would be there for it. She would give everything to watch her husband and her father shake hands. To have known a blessing for marriage had been asked. Then, to have her father watch her become a mother. The fantastic way she would feel seeing the pride in his eyes as he sat with his grandchildren.

  “I guess sometimes it just doesn’t go according to plan,” Grace said to herself as she stood to turn out the fire and the lights. And that, she thought accusingly to herself, is why your irritating friends have set you up on a blind date, and you drunkenly agreed.

  If you love Conflict of Interest, head to Amazon.com for your copy today, or if you’re reading from your eBook, simply click the link below!

  CONFLICT OF INTEREST

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  KATIE BACHAND is a Minnesota-based author. Postmark, Christmas is the perfect holiday romance novel – and by far her most cherished. Christmas is Katie’s favorite time of the year. So snuggle in with a delicious cup of hot chocolate, put some holiday music and the tree lights on, and enjoy!

  KATIE is the author of Conflict of Interest, the first in the four-part series, Taking Chances. In the Business of Love, the second book in the series, will be coming out in the Spring of 2020. Be sure to read an exclusive excerpt from the first in the series Conflict of Interest found at the end of this book.

  KATIE lives with her husband, son, and golden retriever in beautiful Minneapolis, Minnesota. She hopes in her novels, and in life, you find great friendships, great love, and great appreciation for the wonderful world and people around us.

  Visit Katie on her website https://katiebachandauthor.com

  Visit Katie on any of your favorite social media outlets by following the link below, or searching KATIE BACHAND on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, and Twitter.

  https://linktr.ee/katiebachand