Page 22 of A Cozy Kind of Christmas
Meg was happy for Mom. Genuinely happy. But she couldn’t shake the touch of envy—she used to feel settled with Matt.
The conversation shifted again to Meg’s plans.
“How long are you staying in Bend?” Kyle asked, spreading cheese on a cracker and passing the tray around.
“Just for a long weekend,” Meg answered truthfully. “Enough time to cover my assignment, submit a story, and maybe make a quick appearance at my friend’s birthday party.”
“And then you go back to New York?”
She nodded, carefully avoiding Mom’s ever-watching eye. “Yep. That’s the plan.”
“How do you like the East Coast?” Kyle popped a grape into his mouth. “I’ve always wondered how we Left Coasters make the shift.”
“I like it. It has a similar vibe to Europe. Italy was my favorite, although I was absolutely rubbish with the language. I never could master the accent or string more than three or four words together in a sentence. But the food and the people and the views were amazing.” Meg paused, pulling up a memory of sipping espresso in the center of the sun-drenched piazza. “I do miss these mountains, though.”
“Where do you think you’ll land next?” Kyle’s tone was casual. Too casual.
Dare she say rehearsed?
Meg was sure Mom had put him up to the question.
She tried not to bristle. “I don’t know.”
Mom cleared her throat.
“I really don’t.” Meg fiddled with her napkin, wishing she had an answer. “I’ve been journaling about it, per Gam’s advice, but so far, I’m not feeling drawn anywhere in particular. I’m leaving it up to the Universe to guide me.”
“But there must be interest from other publications?” Mom sounded hopeful. “I’m sure magazines and other newspapers must be flooding your inbox.”
“Yep, and private jets waiting to whisk me away to far-off destinations where they serve me bonbons and mimosas for breakfast,” Meg said with a hint of sarcasm, keeping her tone light. “No, seriously, I don’t know. I’m feeling like I might be ready to try something new. I’ve been with ESPN for almost ten years. Writing jobs are notoriously low-paying. Everyone thinks it’s limos and champagne, but it’s more like soup and grilled cheese.”
“I could think of worse things.” Kyle shot her a wink. “I make a mean grilled cheese and roasted red pepper soup. I’ll have you over for dinner soon.”
Mom gave him a playful smack on the knee. “Do not encourage her. She’s about to be thirty. She needs to settle down and get paid what’s she’s truly worth.”
“She seems pretty settled to me,” he pushed back.
Meg flashed him a grateful smile. She liked him. A lot. And he cooked—bonus.
“I’m content with not knowing what comes next,” Meg said, but as the words escaped her lips, she wondered if it was true.
She didn’t feel lost anymore. Writing had saved her. Building a community of like-minded people had saved her. But as for the future, she wished she had better insight. She wanted an aha moment, for the heavens to open and for gorgeous, golden light to rain down on her and deliver someone exactly like Matt Parker into her life again.
If only it were that simple.
The one thing she was sure of was that this trip was a turning point. She needed closure. She needed to say goodbye and put the past behind her once and for all if she was ever going to figure out her future.
FOURTEEN
JOHANNA
Johanna couldn’t escape Connor Howard. He was everywhere. His face was plastered on the side of buses as she weaved through downtown on her way to the airport. Those perfect pearly whites gleamed at her with a bright, cheeky smile as her cab sat at a stoplight like he was taunting her from every direction. The thing was, she knew they weren’t even veneers. Some of the other anchors and sports reporters had had subtle and not-so-subtle work done—veneers, nips, tucks, spray tans, hair implants. Not Connor. He’d been born with a set of glistening white teeth, destined to star in toothpaste commercials, and those rock-hard abs that never seemed to show the slightest sign of wear despite the fact that the man lived on cheeseburgers and buffalo wings.
Connor followed her at the airport, too. His face taking up every screen as he rattled off stats and scores on the morning sports report.
Leave me alone!she wanted to scream, but instead she slogged through the security line and tried to find a seat at her gate without a view of a TV.
Why did he have to be so damn handsome and congenial?
