Page 31 of Jingle Bell Jilt
I pick up the remote and scroll through the first subscription but realize quickly that will take forever. Instead, I pull out my phone. It will be way easier to Google it than check every service.
I look at the list and smile. I wonder just how many movies Evan will be game to watch. There are at least half a dozen of them that we can watch between my streaming services and his. And those are just the ones that start at 6:30. But I settle on three. One is only about an hour long. So if he gets back here pretty quick, we can watch them all and still be in bed before midnight.
I leave the TV on whileJeopardyplays in the background. It’s a rerun of a college tournament. I have no clue about most of the categories they’re answering, though. I lay my head back, breathing in deeply before I call my mom. I’m suddenly so tired. I can’t believe I’ve been up since four o’clock. It’s exhausting work ignoring all my problems. After the holidays, I will unpack all the emotional garbage and really examine my life—make an educated decision about my future. But for now, ignoring is good.
My eyes drift shut, and there’s an absolute nothingness there— “Mama, I’m coming home.” The Ozzy Osborne song plays loudly on the couch next to me. My eyes slowly flutter open.
It’s my mom.
I grab my phone and answer the call, but I let my eyes close again. “Hey, mom,” I say. “I was just about to call you.”
“Shay, are you okay? I expected you to call this morning. I haven’t called sooner because I thought you might be sleeping, but I’m starting to worry.”
I want to be annoyed, but I’m really just glad to know that someone loves me enough to worry. I’m not going to lie, Nathan blowing off our wedding has made me question if I’m even loveable. “I’m sorry I forgot to call this morning, Mom. I’ve been really busy today.”
“Busy?” She asked incredulously. “What could you possibly have to do that kept you too busy to remember to call me?”
I bite at my lower lip. “Well, this place had no Christmas decorations. And it felt wrong. It isn’t Christmas without at least a few decorations.” It isn’t a hard decision not to tell her about my current living situation. She totally wouldn’t understand and would probably catch the first flight to Orlando to rescue me from Evan, who she would’ve convinced herself is a serial ax murderer or something.
“You bought Christmas decorations? That sounds expensive, Shay. I know you just got your advance for your next book, but you should probably watch your money. You’re not combining your income with anyone anymore.”
I let out a hard sigh. “I know, Mom. It cost me all of forty dollars from the dollar store and Walmart. Even I can afford that much. They’re all DIY things. And I’m already plotting another book. So, I can pitch it to my editor once I get back home.” It doesn’t matter how many times I tell my mom that I’m making a living writing middle-grade books, she still believes I’m on the brink of poverty—living paycheck to paycheck. Which I’m not. I actually have a pretty impressive sum in the bank. And a healthy amount in a ROTH IRA account. All that’s to say I have a financial planner and I’m doing just fine. But she still worries. I guess that’s her job, though, right? To make sure I’m okay?
“Oh, that’s good.” She pauses, and I know there’s more she wants to say. “So how are you feeling? You sound happier than I expected. But then you’ve always been good at pushing your feelings aside until you just can’t anymore.”
She isn’t completely wrong. But it still kind of irritates me that she brings it up. “I’m fine, Mom. I barely remember what’s his face’s name.”
“You see? Is that really the healthy way to deal with it?”
“Would you rather I stayed in my room and cried for the next week or two? Is that the healthy way to deal with it? I think moving onishealthy. And that’s what I’m doing. I’m moving on.”
“But it’s only been two days. I’m pretty sure it takes more than two days to move on,” she says, and I can picture her I-know-of-what-I-speak face.
“Maybe that’s how you deal with it. But I’ve wasted more than two years of my life on him already. I don’t plan to waste another second.”
“But I’m not certain he’s over you, Sweetheart. I think he may have just gotten cold feet.” She sighs like she wants to say something but can’t decide if she should. “He called here for you this morning.”
“You didn’t tell him where I am, did you?” I don’t know why, but my heart speeds up. It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong. I paid for all of this, and I’m the one out the money if I canceled.
“No, I didn’t tell him. He said he went over to your apartment but you wouldn’t answer the door for him. I said that you probably just needed some time.” I smile at my mom, even though she can’t see. She has my back. Even if I don’t always like everything that it entails.
“Yeah, I do. Like the rest of my life.”
“Honey, don’t be spiteful.” She is frowning at me; I can tell by her tone.
I snort. “Mom, he embarrassed me in front of all our friends and family. And need I remind you how much money you and Dad spent on the wedding? And for what? Nada. Zilch. Zero. You still have one daughter unmarried.”
“Yes, Maryeshayne. I’m perfectly aware of how much money your father and I spent. You don’t need to remind me.” She sounds like she’s angry at me, not jerky Nathan who flaked on the wedding.
“Well, maybe you’ll remember that the next time he calls to find out why I’m not answering my door for him.”
She sucks in a deep mom breath. “I don’t know why it has to stay a secret that you’re there.”
“He lost the right to know where I am at any given moment when he didn’t show up to the wedding. And I don’t want him showing up here, thinking he can make everything all better.”
“You see? That right there makes me think you’re still open to reconciliation.”
“Nope. I’m not. Not even a little bit. Not even a sliver of light can shine through because I’m so closed off to the idea.” I pull my feet up under me and pull a sweatshirt that’s draped over the couch onto my legs.
