Page 50 of Stay this Christmas
She pulled out sugar and butter, whipping up a quick frosting, but I didn’t have much focus for cookies anymore.
Harper thought she needed the reliable sedan-type, some boring, sedate guy instead of me, the impractical sports car? I would prove to her I could be reliable, too. I would prove to her I could be everything she needed, if only she would let me try.
SIXTEEN
harper
Straighteningup the PT room after a session, I tried to get my head on straight, but my thoughts were in a permanent tailspin over Sam’s low-spoken words:I’ve never missed anything more. Those words had kept me up last night, tormenting me with their hope.
I’d been struggling to squash that hope back down ever since, but I couldn’t force that toothpaste back into the tube.
“Wow, it’s extra-Christmasy in here!”
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling before spinning to face Eliza. She could have given me at least a day to work through my feelings. Although, at the rate I’d been going, I’d need about a hundred days. My feelings were a box of tangled Christmas lights—tugging at them just made the knots tighter.
“I found a few extra decorations.” That I’d done it specifically to get under Sam’s skin didn’t need to be shared.
She looked around, taking in my handiwork. Then she scrunched up her nose. “Why is that Santa propped up to face the other room?”
“No reason. What are you doing here?”
“Rude.” She came closer until we were practically toe to toe, her eyes darting around as if she’d missed a gray-haired resident hidden in a corner somewhere. Dropping her voice, she said, “I think you know.”
“Don’t you have soaps to make or something?”
“I just dropped off a delivery to Bluebird Lodge and I thought, why not visit my beautiful sister, Harper, and see how she’s doing today? Since her night was so very surprising.”
She had no idea. And really, I should probably keep it that way.
“I only have about fifteen minutes before my next appointment.”
“Then get to spilling your guts.”
I shot her my best look of reproach, but she’d grown impervious to them when it came to Sam. If they’d ever bothered her at all.
Clasping her hands in front of her, she bobbed on the balls of her feet. “I need to know what happened, Harper! Please?” She dragged out the word like she used to when we were kids, the sound just as irritating now as it had been then. “Sam was at your place, wasn’t he?”
I sank onto one of the yoga balls, bouncing for a second as I settled. “Yes. We made cookies.”
She sat on a ball next to me, letting loose a witchy cackle. “Is that what you kids are calling it these days?”
I narrowed my eyes on her. “You’ve got twelve minutes. Do you want to waste them?”
Sitting bolt upright, she schooled her expression. “No, ma’am, I do not.” Leaning closer on the ball, she still acted as if someone were in the room with us ready to eavesdrop. “What is going on there, though?”
If only I knew.
“Sam found out about my New-Me List at The Broken Hammer Saturday night. He offered to help me with some of the things on there.”
Eliza’s slow smile was the equivalent of a hundredI told you sos. “I like where this is headed. But what’s with the cookies? That’s not on your list. Unless it’s still a euphemism for Twister, which I endorse.”
“Eliza, no, geez. I said I’d only let him help if he letmehelp him find the spirit of Christmas again. Or something like that.”
So far, my counteroffer seemed sort of silly. I’d had an exhilarating time in the kickboxing class, and he’d…baked cookies. But considering the small glimpse he’d given me into his reasons for disliking Christmas, the night hadn’t been entirely pointless. Maybe I could help him see that even though his parents had used the holiday to deceive him and his sister, it still held genuine goodness, too. Even though it had hurt him once, he could still enjoy it again now.
I willfully ignored how the same sentiment could be applied to me and him.
“I’m so happy!” Eliza shimmied on her yoga ball, her fists pumping in the air.
