Page 11 of Stay this Christmas
My work achievements gave me a glow, but I wouldn’t say I’d been having a lot of actual fun. My daily life sat so far away from adventure, the two weren’t even on the same Venn diagram.
“What else should I write down?” she asked. “Maybe you want to learn how to operate a chair lift? Get certified in CPR?”
I ignored her. I needed to try a few new things. If some of those things overlapped with a guy who had done practically everything, well, I couldn’t exactly reinvent the wheel.
“I also want to try one of the kickboxing classes at the gym on Third.”
Eliza’s mouth snapping shut gave me a whirl of satisfaction. For a minute, the three of them just stared at me in silence.
Okay, yeah, maybe it seemed out of character, the unassuming woman in scrubs wanting to learn the proper way to punch. Every day, I passed the studio on my way home from work, driving without thinking, going through the motions of my routine. The people in the classes working up a sweat and kicking the crap out of a punching bag didn’t look like they were living on autopilot. I wanted to mix it up a little, too.
“I. Love. It.” Eliza’s pen scratched over the paper.
Peeking over her shoulder, I saw she’d written‘learn to kick some butt’. Fair description.
They waited for me to share the next thing, but after those few, I didn’t have other big ideas stored away. Little ideas, maybe, things I’d enjoyed once but hadn’t thought about since my Doctor of Physical Therapy program and eventual job at Fiesta Village had sucked up all my energy.
“I haven’t gone stargazing in a long time,” I finally said.
Eliza paused, and I could practically hear her mentally debating whether or not to give me crap about this, too. Back in the Before times, Sam and I used to go stargazing all the time. We’d drive into a field somewhere, pile blankets in the back of his station wagon, and just snuggle up. It was where we’d have our deepest conversations and share our most secret selves. Unsurprisingly, it was also where we got into the most compromising positions.
Just thinking about those nights under the stars could still make me blush, stolen moments I’d never shared with anyone else.
My desire to go again didn’t have anything to do with reminiscing about that, though. I’d always loved how peaceful it could be in the dark of nowhere, watching the canopy of stars slide across the sky. I wanted a place to get away from my stresses at work, and lying out under the stars would do it. No rule stated I had to look at stars with a man, and certainly not with Sam.
Luckily, Eliza wrote it down without commentary.
“What else?” June asked.
I thought about how much Sam had to have seen and done in all his travels. So wrong to keep using him as a frame of reference, but hard not to when I had a literal globe-trotter in my midst. Gossip had put him in a dozen cities spanning states and continents—his return only highlighted the fact I’d never left Texas. I’d gone to college here, spent another three years getting my Doctor of Physical Therapy degree, and the last three working at a local retirement community. I couldn’t very well plan a trip to Italy in the next few weeks, but even a short trip would be something.
“I need to get out of Magnolia Ridge, at least for a night.”
“What about…” Eden started, drawing my attention back to her. “Giving yourself permission to make a mistake?”
“Pot, meet my friend kettle,” Eliza muttered as she wrote on the notepad.
“I make mistakes all the time.” Exhibit A: talking to or about Sam Donnelly.
“I mean more like going into something that’s uncertain, knowing you might not get things right.”
One big caveat to hanging out with Eden was the way she saw right through me and had no problem calling me out. She was uncanny that way, and I kind of hated it, but I couldn’t argue the point, either. Not convincingly.
Uncertainty and I were not friends. I liked to know what was coming, and how I would handle it. I liked predictability. But that was part of the wholestagnantproblem, wasn’t it? I could predict exactly what was coming, every day of my life: more of the same.
I nudged Eliza with my knee. “Okay, write that down.”
“How about conquering a fear?” June suggested.
“That’s the whole list,” Eliza said without looking up.
“I’m notafraidof doing these things. I just haven’t done them yet.” I sounded too defensive for it to be entirely true.
The implication I’d been cowering in my house afraid of the world irritated me, but I couldn’t fully refute it, either. Whatever I’d rather call it—dedication to my work, comfort in familiarity, simply being too busy—a dull thread of fear wove through it anyway. Fear of failure, fear of letting people down, fear of looking foolish—all still real and valid fears, even if they weren’t the stuff of horror movies.
“You’re not afraid,” Eden agreed, picking at a muffin. “You’re like I was a year ago. Happily living in a little bubble world. It’s notbad,but you want better.”
“Or like I was,” June added, “living in the too-big bubble of Austin, not seeing the ways I wasn’t being fulfilled. But you see it now, and you’re making changes.”
