Page 20 of Feels Like Home

Christine

It’s beena week since Andysaved me from Margarita Madness. A week of random pop ins at Dreamin’ Beans, shared texts, and phone calls. After the night at the docks, him opening up to me about how he was allowing his anger over everything that was happening to take over, how it was affecting his relationship with the boys and he was growing increasingly bitter, we both started checking in. I’m not sure either of us even realized we were doingit.

Then, it was just a common courtesy call of thanking him for helping me get home safely after I had stupidly gotten wasted at El Charro. I don’t know what any of us were thinking. We hadn’t made a plan for how we would get home, and considering every single one of us were three sheets to the wind, it was not only stupid but incrediblyirresponsible.

Andy being Andy had just shrugged it off, laughed about it the next day, and told me that he and Josh had gotten all our vehicles home. I didn’t even remember giving him the keys to my car, but apparently I had when I was bent over, heaving out mountains of chips and salsa and tequila, all while Andy stood back, gagging but being the supportive friend that I’ve come to… I don’t know.Like?

But then I realized it wasn’t just me doing the checking in. It was Andy popping in often at Dreamin’ Beans. So often, in fact, that if I didn’t see him by noon I wondered what waswrong.

When my phone pings with a text, I look down and mutter, “What in theworld?”

Andy:Mayday!Mayday!

Before I can even type out a response, my phone startsringing.

“Yes?” I answer, trying not tolaugh.

“Do you have any idea what the dateis?”

“Uhh.”

“December twentieth, Christine. December. Twenty,” he says, drawing out the wordtwenty.

I giggle. “And?”

“And? Are you kidding me right now? Do yourealizethat Christmas is in just a few days?” His voice is coming out higher than I’ve ever heard it before, which almost makes me laugh, but I hold itback.

“I’maware.”

“Are you also aware that I have nothingready?”

I gasp. “Andy!”

“Christine!” hemocks.

“Hey, don’t mock me,procrastinator.”

“Are youready?”

I hear a car door shut in the background, followed by an engine startingup.

“Ready?”

“For Christmas! Come on, keepup!”

“Keep up withwhat?”

“Shopping! We need to shop!” he shouts, panic clear as day in hisvoice.

I lean back against the counter, still facing the front of the shop so I can see if someone needs refills, or be aware of new customers comingin.

“Shopping,huh?”

I hear him blow out a breath. “I’m so glad you get it. We need to shop. We need toChristmas!”

“I don’t think saying we need to Christmas is at allcorrect.”

Clearly, I’ve been spending too much time with Carlynow.

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