Page 78 of Through the Snow Globe
“And how do you know about my office neighbor?” Rochelle sounded increasingly suspicious.
“You’ve mentioned him before,” Diana said.
“I don’t think so. In fact, I’m pretty certain I haven’t.”
“Hmm. Well, happy birthday, Ro,” Diana said, changing the subject. “I’ll call you later.” She disconnected the call before Rochelle could ask any more questions. Then she stepped back into Linus’s closet. Her gaze caught on his silly ties that hung there on his tie rack. He hadn’t used that hiding place this time. Why not? She knew he’d bought the snow globe already. Eloise had said as much. So it had to be here somewhere.
Browsing through his shirts of various shades of blue, pink, and purple, she noticed a box on his wire shelf above his vast collection of sport coats. She reached up and balanced on her toes to grab it. With a grunt, she pulled it to her and placed it on the floor at her feet. She lifted the lid and peered inside where Linus kept a few old things from his childhood. There, among photographs and letters, old awards from grade school and a movie ticket stub from their first date, she also saw the wrapped gift for her.
Her hands shook as she grabbed the gift-wrapped box with a big sealed envelope and her name on the front.
Bingo.
She carried the box to the bed and leaned over it, hesitating because Rochelle was right, this was wrong. Opening a gift before the giver had even given it was a sure way to end up on the naughty list like Dustin. At this rate, though, Linus would never get a chance to give it to her. She had to open it. But first, the card. There hadn’t been a card when she’d found this gift before now. At least something had shifted in the universe.
Diana tore open the envelope and pulled out the folded card. “Forgive me, Linus,” she said as she opened it and read.
My love.
This is the first of what I hope will be many in your snow globe collection. It’s okay to get attached and to want more. To start off small and grow. That sounded good in my head, but on paper, I just sound mushy, don’t I? Regardless, I propose we start a second collection, the two of us. Let’s collect all the tiny moments—the good, bad, and boring—and let them gather, like the snowflakes in this globe, to equal our forever. I promise I will be there for you when it counts. I promise I will never leave. You can count on me to love you, no matter what comes our way. Always.
Yours,
Linus
P.S. Someone smart once said the world was his oyster. I say it’s really a snow globe.
Diana blinked away her tears and pulled the gift toward her. Then she slowly peeled the paper back, carefully, not wanting to rip it in case she needed to cover her crime. But if what Mrs. Guzman said was true, tomorrow would be Christmas—a lonely one without Linus.
Diana flicked her gaze at the card. He’d just promised to be there for her no matter what, but he wouldn’t be. A promise, by nature, was meant to be broken. That was her experience.
She slid her finger under the lid of the box and wriggled it open. Then she peered down at the snow globe inside. The little town of Snow Haven was quiet below. As ridiculous as it sounded, all she needed to do was turn this globe upside down, shake it, orun-shake it, and get back to real time.
She reread the card. Linus wanted to start a snow globe collection for her. He’d wanted her to get attached. To commit. To buy-in to forever. Those things didn’t come naturally to Diana. Grandma Denny had made sure of that.
“Don’t ever depend on someone else if you can help it. And don’t let people depend on you either. That way life hurts as little as possible.”
Why was she still taking advice from Grandma Denny? Grandma Denny had done her best by Diana, but Diana could make different choices now. She wanted to depend on Linus, lean on her friends, and share her life with those around her. She wanted to get attached to her patients and to a silly collection of snow globes. And she wanted the happily ever after that Linus had offered her.
Diana left the gift in the box, picked it up, and stood. She had to see Linus before she shook this snow globe. If this day was all she got, it was time to say goodbye.
She grabbed her keys and hurried out the door, running into Mrs. Guzman on the way. The gift box shifted and nearly dropped from her hands, but Diana snatched it back to her midsection.
“You’re in a hurry,” Mrs. Guzman said. “Where are you off to?”
“The toy store, to see Linus.”
“Is that the snow globe you were asking me about?” her neighbor asked.
Diana hugged it more tightly to her side. “It is.”
“Oh, dear. Well, then, I guess tomorrow is Christmas. I hope future me did all her shopping.”
“I’m sure it’ll be okay.”
“It always is. Better hurry. It’s going to snow.” As Mrs. Guzman said it, something wet hit Diana’s arm.
She looked down at the crystalized drop. “I think that was a flake.” She looked up and laughed softly. “It’s snowing!”
