Page 19 of Stranded in A Small Town Christmas
We look like we’re—
“Can you send that to my mom, since her number’s in your phone?” Donovan asks, yanking me away from thoughts that are only going to get me in trouble. “And to my phone, too? I don’t have it right now, but hopefully I’ll see it again someday.”
I hand him my phone and watch as he types his number into my contacts. He sends both pictures to himself, and then he types a message to his mom and attaches them. I hear the whooshing sound, and then he mutters a curse.
“I didn’t mean to send her both,” he says, and it’s clear he’s mostly talking to himself.
I’m not sure if he wants to hide the fact he’s stuck in Charming Lake with a woman whose company he’s enjoying or if he’s afraid his mom will join my mom in trying to play amateur matchmaker. Either way, I pretend I didn’t hear him.
He hands my phone back to me. “I’m ready for one of those allegedly unnaturally good snickerdoodles, I think.”
Chapter Twelve
Donovan
* * *
I’m not surprised when the flip-phone in my pocket buzzes not even two minutes after I sent the text to my mother from Natalie’s phone.
I hadn’t meant to send both photos. I hadn’t been thinking straight because the photo Lyla took of Natalie and me had knocked the wind out of me. It was like an image of a life I could never have, but that I’m starting to think I really want.
And my mother is going to see that. Instead of saying I’d stayed with a nice family who owned an inn and leaving it at that—nursing my regret about what could have been privately—I was going to have to explain Natalie and our almost instant connection to her.
Well, instant not counting the meeting at the airport, of course. I hadn’t been at my best at that moment.
“I have to go back to the inn and grab the rest of the popcorn,” Natalie says just as my phone buzzes a second time. “It’s in a bag, which is light, so you go ahead and get your snickerdoodle and I’ll meet you there.”
“Don’t you want help?”
“It’s popcorn. I’ve got this.”
I want to go with her, but I also want to find a reasonably quiet spot to call my mom. I’m afraid if I don’t respond to the text messages she’s sending to the flip-phone, she’ll resort to texting Natalie’s phone. That could be an embarrassing disaster.
“Keep walking that way and you’ll find the Santa Fund bake sale on the left.” Then she’s gone before I can say anything else.
Instead of heading straight for the cookies, I walk between two buildings to find the closest thing to privacy I can get in the middle of a Christmas fair. Mom answers on the first ring, so I know she still had her phone in her hand.
“Donovan?”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Who is that woman? Where are you?”
“Her name’s Natalie. She was the one giving me a ride to Stowe when the weather turned, and she runs the inn for her family. The town’s having their Christmas fair, and they lured me here with the promise of snickerdoodles.”
“I see the promise of a lot more than cookies in that picture.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. “Don’t, Mom.”
“But—“
“I’ll tell you all about it when we get home. But I need you to promise when you and Judy pick me up on Sunday—tomorrow—that you don’t say anything to embarrass me. They’re nice people. I cracked a joke and we were laughing. That’s all.”
“Fine. Go stuff yourself with snickerdoodles, and you can tell me about it on the plane.”
“Love you.”
I slide the phone back into my pocket and lean against the clapboard siding for a moment. Tomorrow. I’m leaving tomorrow, so by tomorrow night, Natalie Byrne won’t be a part of my life anymore. And no matter what her motivation was for inviting me in, I know my life is going to feel pretty empty for a while.
