Page 2 of Tee the Season
“Is old Mr. Patterson all set to play Santa again this year?” she asks, glancing toward the window where fat snowflakes have started falling.
“He still claims it’s the highlight of the season.”
I think of Aunt Mae’s face every year when Mr. Patterson settles into that reading chair in his red suit. The way her eyes light up, how she always makes sure to get a photo with him. She’s had a thing for Santa since I was a kid. Not for Mr. Patterson specifically, just for the whole Santa vibe. The deepvoice, the authority figure, the generous spirit, and knowing smile.
I can see it. There’s something about a man who knows if you’ve been naughty or nice, who delivers exactly what's on your wish list, that’s unmistakably sexy, but I shake off the thought as Leah continues.
“I saw him at the post office last week with a cane, and with the weather forecast…” She trails off.
My hands still. “What forecast?”
I’ve been so busy I haven’t even checked the news.
“Nor’easter. They’re saying it could dump two feet starting tomorrow night.”
I groan as unease slithers through me. The event is in three days. “Hopefully, they’re wrong.”
Leah fiddles with the ribbon on one of the fake presents as I climb down the ladder and pluck one end of a long pine garland from the next tub. I get the sense she wants to tell me something but is hesitating. She looks around, as if making sure there’s no one within earshot. Maybe, she’s pregnant. My grip tightens as the idea blossoms. She’s not drinking a latte…
Suddenly, I’m full of energy.
“What’s new with you?” I try to be casual, but her gaze snaps to mine. I don’t know why I thought she wouldn’t pick up on the excitement in my tone; after all, my best friend can read me like a book.
“Actually, I stopped by to—”
“To tell me you’re pregnant!” I exclaim, dropping the garland, my eyes wide.
“What? No,” she replies, confusion sweeping over her features. “I’m not pregnant.”
“Oh.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“You know I’ll make the best auntie when you have a little one, though, right?”
She rolls her eyes. “You’ve only told me that a dozen times since Hays and I got engaged.”
I huff and pick up a snowflake ornament. “I only mentioned it once. Or maybe twice.”
“But, speaking of auntie’s… I actually stopped by to invite you to dinner tomorrow night.” There’s something in her tone that makes my pulse skip.
“Okay,” I reply, drawing out the word as I try to puzzle out why she’s making a big deal of a dinner invitation when we get together at least once a week, either at her place or at mine upstairs.
“Rory’s going to be there.”
The ceramic stack of books ornament slips from my fingers, but I scramble to catch it before it hits the ground.
“Rory? In Starlight Bay?” Something flutters in my chest. It’s probably just indigestion from the leftover chicken casserole I scarfed down an hour ago.
“Just for a couple of days. Apparently, he and Hays do their annual planning for the upcoming season this time of year.” She’s observing my reaction. “I thought it might be nice, the four of us. But only if it’s not weird.”
I force myself to hang the ornament with steady hands, despite the way my heart knocks against my ribs. “Why would it be weird?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Leah’s voice is dry. “Maybe, because you two had mind-blowing—”
“It was one night,” I interrupt, cutting her off. I climb back up the ladder to give myself something to do with my hands. “We’re both adults. We’d had some drinks, danced, and then had some fun. End of story.”
“Right.Fun.” She hands me another ornament. This time, it’s a snowflake made from pages of poetry. “So dinner’s fine?”
