Page 63 of Joy to Noel
Rolling my eyes, I say, “I knowyou’veloved having me around. I’m not sure if the sentiment is widespread.” The self-doubt slipped out before I could corral it as an inside thought, and I wish I could take it back.
Clara’s brow furrows. “What do you mean? Of course, everyone loves having you here. I mean, you know Clark—he’s not going to openly display any affection, but he’s happy you’re here. And Becky, Syd, and Abby are thrilled. Not to mention Pops and Emily and—”
Waving a hand to cut her off, I say, “I’ll give you Pops. We’re kindred spirits. But we all know you’re the real town transplant sweetheart, and I just get included in the kindness on your behalf.”
“Mads, what are you even talking about? Everyone loves you foryou,” Clara insists as she sits up. She smacks my stomach when I don’t respond, and I sit up to face her. She continues, “You have no idea how many conversations I’ve had with people about how glad they are that you’ve been sticking around. About the energy and laughter and joy you’ve brought to town by being here. You’re Becky’s favorite employee at the coffee shop, even though she knows your time working there will be short-lived as your business takes off. Your spunk is the spark the town needed to cheer everyone up again after the Pure Fur All fiasco. Everyone is hoping you decide to stay permanently.”
I fiddle with a loose string on the hem of my leggings, avoiding eye contact. “Are you just being your typical, sweet Care Bear self, trying to help me feel better?”
The movement of Clara’s hand rising catches my attention. She holds her flattened hand straight up, palm facing me. “I swear on my Hindu rope hoya that I’m telling the truth.”
I gasp. “Not your favorite plant! This is serious.”
“I’ll throw the ficus tineke onto the swear pile, just for good measure,” Clara adds solemnly.
“Wow. You’re not kidding around,” I say, a hint of a smile playing at my lips. I can’t quite hide the joy that’s inflating my heart. “Well, if the tineke is on the chopping block, too, you must be telling the truth.”
“In all seriousness, Mads, people really do love you and want you around. So, if you want to stay, I’ll help you find a great long-term housing situation. I’ll make Clark build you your own cabin in the woods next door,” Clara says.
Huffing a laugh, I say, “Actually, can we tell him to do that, just for fun? I’d like to watch his reaction.”
Clara rolls her eyes. “All right, now that we’ve officially established you as a permanent resident, what are we going to do when Liam’s time at the factory is finished?”
Her question is the pinprick that slowly deflates the joy ballooned in my heart. I sigh. “I don’t know. I really don’t like the idea of a long-distance relationship. At least, not for an extended time. I alsoreallydon’t like the idea of moving to Houston. A relationship with Liam doesn’t actually make very much sense. Maybe starting something with him is the wrong thing to do.”
I pause, trying to find words for how I feel. Clara waits patiently for me to continue. “But cutting him out of my life feelsmorewrong. It’s like my gut knows we’re supposed to be together, even if my head can’t wrap itself around how we’re going to make it work on a practical level. I guess we’ll just cross each bridge as it comes. Forge our own way forward.”
Clara smiles at me. “I have to say, I’m impressed at your willingness to go with the flow here. Are you sure you don’t have a secret Excel spreadsheet somewhere with check boxes mapping out your future relationship?” she teases, and I laugh heartily.
“Now that you mention it, maybe that’s not a terrible idea,” I quip back.
“Would Liam want to join us for Tuesday dinner this week?” Clara asks hopefully.
“Ehhh, that might be a stretch. Close friendships haven’t really been his . . . thing in the past. I might need to slowly ease him into the friend group,” I say. “But I’ll work on it.”
Clara gives me an impish grin. “If he kisses you anything like you claim he does, I have a feeling it might be easier than you think to convince him to play along with any request from you.”
After my abbreviated barre workout and lengthy conversation with Clara, I head home to get some work done on the dream manuscriptI’m editing. Elizabeth, the author, contracted me to do both copyediting and proofreading. She sent it to me last week, and I’m taking extra time to ensure I don't miss a thing.
Although I shouldn’t be surprised, I’m disappointed to see the empty driveway, meaning Liam’s probably at the factory putting in some extra hours on this Sunday afternoon.
It’s a good thing he’s gone, Madison. You need to get some of your own work done. Youhaveto nail it with this author if you hope to land more clients like her.
I decide to take an extra few minutes to make a cup of matcha for an afternoon boost of energy. Filling Liam’s water kettle and programming it to the green tea temperature, I begin sifting the matcha powder into a bowl. When the kettle chimes, I pour a small amount of water into the bowl and whisk it side to side with my bamboo whisk. Once it’s frothy, I pour it into a mug to add the rest of the water.
When I make matcha in the mornings, I usually add half milk and half water to make a matcha latte, but I settle for just water this afternoon. I drizzle maple syrup into the tea to sweeten it. Carrying the steaming mug to my bedroom, I set it on the desk and turn on all of the Christmas lights.
I pull up a snowy Christmas ambience scene on my tablet, and compare it to the hot, sunny summer outside the window.If I did move here permanently, I would sure miss snowy winters.
Turning to my laptop, I drill down my focus on Elizabeth’s manuscript. I’m about a third of the way through and loving every second. About an hour later, I’m distracted by Hamlet’s loudmeow. He’s sitting just outside the door to my bedroom, looking at me with those intense eyes of his.
Meow.
“You want to come in here, Hammie?”
Meow.
Rising from the desk, I move to the doorway and scoop him into my arms. “I suppose since we’re friends now, you can come into my room. As long as you promise to behave. Remember—no double crosses, okay?” I tell him.
