Page 55 of Saved By Noel
No
ME
See you next week, Clark!
HOTTIE McSCROOGE
Looking forward to seeing you.
I mean, looking forward to the whole deal.
I mean, NOT looking forward to the Christmas spirit torture. But looking forward to the morale boost for the town.
ME
I know what you mean.
Chapter thirty-three
Clara
“Do you need me to pick up anything from the store on my way?”
“No, honey. We have plenty of food. Just come hang out with everyone,” my mom responds.
“I’m sorry; I was trying to get ahead on some work since I’m going to Noel next week. I totally forgot to make the strawberry pies,” I say, blowing out a breath. “But I could stop and pick up some other desserts.”
“Care-Bear, stop worrying,” my dad’s voice calls out. Speaker phone strikes again. “The neighbors are making homemade ice cream. We’ll have plenty of sugar. Just get over here and eat before we do fireworks.”
“Dad, it’s illegal to shoot off fireworks in Overland Park,” I chide.
“I mean, technically . . .” His voice trails off.
“Daaad? Need I remind you that you’ve already taken one trip to the emergency room in the past year?”
“I didn’t buy any fireworks, but I can’t be responsible for what other people in the neighborhood have planned.” He sounds smug.
I sigh. “I still feel bad that I’m not bringing anything. I should have set an alarm last night.”
“Clara Jane.” My mom’s voice has switched to scolding mode. “We’re glad that you get to go to the cabin next week. No one is going to go hungry because you forgot the pies. Please, just come straight over.”
“Okay, okay,” I acquiesce. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I arrive at my parents’ house empty-handed, still feeling guilty about it. A proper block party setup spreads from their front yard to the two neighbors on either side. The unmistakable smell of burgers grilling fills the air, along with the lingering scent of the multicolored smoke bombs the kids have been lighting. I greet my parents and their neighbors, fielding questions about work, the cabin adventure, and, inevitably, my love life. Such is the fate of a single adult.
Mom heads inside to bring out a fruit salad now that the food is ready, and I follow her. “Need any help, Mom?”
“I got it, honey. I don’t need any help. You go back outside and enjoy yourself,” she responds.
Her comment pokes the bear of confusing emotions I’ve been burying ever since Clark told me to stop helping people all the time. To go after what I want. “You know I enjoy myself more when I’m helping,” I try to joke. “It’s not a good time if I’m not pitching in somehow.”
Mom cocks her head as she regards me. “You’re allowed to justenjoyyourself sometimes, Clara. Why do you think you have to be helpful in order to have a good time?”
I manically spin the ring on my finger, hoping to divert the panicked energy her question prompted in my mind. Unfortunately, my mom knows my tell, so one glance at my handhas her setting down the bowl of fruit and crossing the room to me.
“What’s going on, honey?”
I chew on my lip. “It’s just something Clark said to me when I was in Noel for the float trip. I can’t get it out of my head.” Mom eyes me, silently urging me to continue. “He basically accused me of pushing to help where I’m not needed instead of doing what I really want to do.”
