Page 15 of A Cozy Kind of Christmas
That wiped the smile off his face.
“Wait. Jo—I?—”
“Don’t.”
She took a breath, trying to contain her rage.
“You think you can show up with flowers and everything’s going to be fine? You could give me every flower on the planet—it wouldn’t matter. This is about trust. You went behind my back and interviewed for a promotion you are completely underqualified for, by the way. And now you show up at my place in the middle of the night acting like I’m the one being unreasonable.”
He looked stunned, even hurt. But she didn’t care.
“I have an early flight,” she said, using every ounce of control to keep her voice steady. “And like I said, we’re not a thing. Hookup or no hookup. This is done.”
And yet her hand moved like someone else was controlling the strings. She watched herself reach out in slow motion and grab the bouquet. Before she could second guess it, she yanked the flowers out of his hands and slammed the door shut. She waited for a minute, watching through the spy hole. Connor hesitated and started to knock again, but then he changed his mind and hung his head as he walked away.
The flowers were stunning. She took them to the kitchen, found a vase, filled it with water, and fluffed them up, tossing the attached card on the counter.
That was close.
Too close.
Connor had a hold on her.
A frustrating, undeniable, impossible-to-shake hold.
She would shake it no matter what it took. He’d come for her job. Time to end him.
The morning couldn’t come fast enough. She needed a flight and as many miles between them as possible.
TEN
MEG
Mom had moved a couple of years ago, and since Meg hadn’t been home in a while, the drive to her house perched above the Columbia River felt oddly familiar and entirely different. They breezed past soggy lawns with deflated Christmas blow-up decorations and houseboats with twinkling lights and golden stars on their flat rooflines. Gam regaled Meg with stories about her healing clients. “You’ll never believe what a trip we took last week,” she said from the front seat, adjusting her seat belt so she could turn to face Meg.
When Gam talked about “trips,” she was speaking metaphorically.
Meg caught Mom rolling her eyes with a little glimmer of a grin. She sharpened her focus on the drizzle ahead and remained quiet. That was quite an improvement. Mom used to snap whenever Gam drifted into anything in the mystical territory, but Meg had come to realize that parent-child relationships were complicated and that despite their differences, Mom and Gam deeply loved each other.
“My client has been stuck,” Gam said with a twinkle in her eye. “We’ve been working on finding new ways for her to connect to her spirit guides and higher self, and I must admit,this particular situation has tested me. My client has been resistant to going deep and letting go. I’ve tried everything—Reiki, drumming, working with my tarot decks—to no avail. You know my methods. I don’t direct; I guide. But I’ve had to sit on my hands with this one.” Gam wiggled her fingers, adorned with turquoise and topaz rings, and winked as she pretended to stuff her hands under her seat. “Yesterday, we finally had a breakthrough. I took her on a journey to the most beautiful winter forest. We meandered along a gurgling steam, and you’ll never guess who showed up!” She held up a finger and wiggled her brows eagerly. “I’ll give you a hint—it’s a power animal.”
“A hawk?” Meg asked, eyebrows raised.
Gam had a deep connection with hawks. They appeared practically everywhere she went, gliding over her deck every afternoon, showing up en masse at family picnics, and even swooping past the windshield on random drives down the highway as if to say,Oh, hi, we see you.
“You would think,” Gam said with an eager nod. “But no! A snowy owl.”
“A snowy owl?” Meg asked, leaning in closer. “What’s the significance of the owl?”
Mom flicked the wipers on high as she turned off the freeway, rain battering the windshield.
“The snowy owl is a harbinger of spiritual growth—wisdom, enlightenment, and a shift in perspective,” Gam responded with a touch of reverence.
Meg stared out the window as a blur of evergreen trees streaked by.
Wisdom, enlightenment, perspective.
Yeah, she could use all those this weekend.
