Page 3 of A Beary Merry Christmas

Slipping my phone back in the pocket of my sweatpants, I headed to the checkout desk. I had a lot to do in a short amount of time, the last of which would require a miracle. I was a bear on a mission, though. And anyone who had ever underestimated me quickly discovered that, when in beast mode, I was unstoppable, especially when it came to getting what I wanted.

And I wanted Lora.

Chapter Three

December 19th

Lora

“Thanks for staying with me last night, Share Bear.” I set a steaming cup of coffee on the counter for her.

“Are you kidding me? Do we even need to do the math on how many times you’ve been there for me versus me here for you? Girl, I’ve had triple the shitty nights and you’ve never bailed.” She picked up the mug and proceeded to customize it with sugar and half & half.

I rolled my eyes, placing the carafe back in its home after pouring my own steaming cup. “It’s nothing to keep score on, and you know it.”

“Exactly.” She passed the sugar and creamer towards me. “You’re my best friend, Lo. Hell, you’re more of a sister to me than my own. It’s what we do, not for gratitude, but out of love.” She sidled up to me, throwing an arm around me, holding her morning brew with her other hand. “And I lovers you.”

A chuckle escaped me as I leaned into her embrace. “I lovers you, too.” Tears stung my eyes. I hadn’t known Sharon long in best friend years. I worked at the same call center she did while finishing nursing school. The moment we met three years ago, we clicked, and had become almost inseparable overnight. We were different in many ways, but there was a strong foundation of respect that allowed us to agree to disagree, to support the other person’s choices, and to be honest yet kind with our honesty. I trusted her more than anyone.

“Subject change,” she declared, breaking away. She power-walked to the living room. “Did you buy smaller clothes or have I gained that much weight since the last time?” She fidgeted with the tank top that seemed to continuously be rolling up over her full figure.

“I haven’t bought new clothes in forever.” I sat down on the sofa, hugging the dark liquid between my palms.

She scrunched her nose. “Figures. Tammy’s on a mission to make us all fatter by New Years just so she can sell her side business to us on January 1st. She’s brought in pastries three times this week.” Giving up on the snug top, she plopped down on the other end of the couch. “It’s a brilliant plan really; half of us in that place have a sweet tooth the size of Texas.”

I snickered. “You’re not as bad as some of them. Penelope used to stock her drawers with Little Debbie snack cakes weekly because she ran through them all in a week. Right before I left, I’m pretty sure she was averaging a box a day.”

Pursing her lips, she cut her eyes at me. “You can laugh because you don’t understand our struggle. Have I ever told you that I secretly hate you for that?”

“A thousand times.” I beamed. Witnessing her upset, realizing that she was no doubt kicking herself mentally for every time she caved, I softened. “Look, we all have our vices; some are just easier to hide than others.”

“What the heck is your vice? I’ve known you for how many years now and have never seen you struggle with an addiction.” She took a sip of her coffee, loaded with twice as much sugar as my own, I was sure.

“Regret.” I swallowed hard, dropping my gaze to my full cup.

“Regret?” she echoed, shifting in her seat. “How can anyone be addicted to regret?”

Working my bottom lip, I glimpsed at her. Her brown hair was in disarray, her glasses slightly lopsided; her shirt was still rolled up, and the leggings were all that concealed her plush stomach, yet I never ceased to see her beauty. I was able to find the beauty in most things.

Except in Gran’s death.

“I replay Gran’s last few weeks in my head over and over. If I would have taken her for a second opinion, or made her go to the hospital sooner, she would still be here today. It was pneumonia, not cancer, for crying out loud. She-” Tears stung my eyes as my chest constricted, making it harder to breathe. I bounced my right leg, trying to calm my mounting anxiety. Every time I thought about it, I kicked myself all over again. She didn’t have to die when she did.

Sharon scooted closer, setting a firm hand atop my thigh, halting my movement. “You can’t change what’s already happened, honey. And you can’t have a future when you’re living in the past. She wouldn’t want you to stop living just because she did.” She carefully wrapped an arm around me.

A bitter chuckle escaped me as sorrow rooted itself in my core, the tears finally breaking free and gliding rapidly down my cheeks. “Stone said the same thing.” I swallowed past the tightness in my throat. “He said a lot of wonderful things that have me feeling like a complete fool for believing him now.” I felt my features twist as I fought for control. “I really didn’t see it coming.” I shook my head in dismay. “I was so blind and, just, dumb.” Stretching, I set my mug on the coffee table. Sitting back, I swiped at my cheeks. “Am I so desperate for an ever-after that I can ignore altogether the signs that point to potential unhappiness?”

“Honey, you’re thirty. We all get a little desperate at that age. Hell, I’m more than a little desperate at forty. I’m beginning to think it’ll never happen, and that’s far worse. You still have time; you still have hope. I’ve got a cranky cat that hates to cuddle and a dead-end job laden with weight gain opportunities.” She gently shook me. “But you have hope, Lora, the hope I wish I still had.”

A small smile broke through my upset; it wasn’t genuine, though. It was to cover the fresh bout of pain blooming for my friend. “That’s really sad, Share Bear.” Blindly, I snagged her hand, sniffing, attempting to subdue my emotions. “But if I can’t give up, then neither can you. Remember, I need to get my spring wedding in a field of wildflowers and you deserve your fall country wedding. If we stop now, we’ll never get either one.”

She straightened, scooting just enough to turn sideways and face me. “It sounds awful, but I look forward to that day more than I look forward to the man.” Her eyes turned glossy. Sharon hid her pain far better than most, and she had a past that would have broken most people by this point.

My heart cracked at the edges. Grabbing her hand, I gave it a little squeeze. “Only because no man has come close to being worthy of sharing that day with you.”

Staring at the black TV screen across the room, she sighed. “Maybe you’re right, about me and you.” She briefly crushed my hand in return. “Listen, honey, you did react differently to Stone. I’m not usually an advocate for the whole wait-and-see phrase, but, he did seem to make you happier than I’d ever seen you, and I think, of all the men you’ve chatted with, he’s proven the most and therefore deserves the benefit of the doubt.” Releasing me, she stood, peering down at me. She mashed her lips together in determination. “But only for the next forty-eight hours. After that, he’s chopped liver in my book.”

This time, my smile was genuine. “Thanks.”

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