Page 8 of Grinch Girl

I let out a long sigh and stood up. Greta had never been the meddling type before, but maybe she was getting bored with her usual projects. “Let’s make the shopping list.”

Her face fell slightly, so I forced a laugh and an accepting nod. “We can talk about my life improvement plan when I bring over the groceries tomorrow,” I promised.

“I’m holding you to that, Jane,” she warned.

The follow-up chat never happened though. Greta went into the hospital the following day and never came out.

In the weeks after her passing, I thought about this conversation almost hourly. Because the fact was, after Greta passed, I had a lot more time. Greta had been right to nudge me. My life needed big changes. It was time for me to stop floundering around, to take charge of my own destiny, as cheesy as that sounded.

And, hell, the framework Greta provided seemed like a very solid springboard:

(1)Work that’s more meaningful than just a paycheck

(2)A community of friends or a place you’re happy to be

(3)A relationship with a nice man

True, running Greta’s shop wasn’t exactly my dream job—but carrying on her legacy was definitely more meaningful than just a paycheck.

And I probablywouldbe happier if I settled into the Falworth community instead of constantly feeling stifled and rolling my eyes and battling futilely against small-town life. Oddly,Single Bellswas going to be a huge opportunity for me. Creating the web series and working to save the town’s small businesses would certainly go a long way toward establishing myself in the community.

Despite my wide independent streak, I was open to a relationship, open to sharing my life with someone. My intent with Michael may have been a bit ambiguous so far, but I was ready for my signals to get a lot clearer; next time, instead of coffee, I’d ask him out for dinner.

I’d promised Greta I’d improve my life—and I would do it. The plan was in full swing.

*

Man, what aday. The busiest Black Friday I could remember, that’s for sure.

First, Sean and I went to the Best Buy in Vienna and fought through deal-crazed shoppers to sweet-talk the manager into letting us borrow a bunch of film equipment. It wasn’t easy; I had to promise to take the worst Geek Squad house calls for the entire month. But at least now we weren’t going to be doing a web series using nothing but iPhone cameras.

I sent Sean home to look after Bruce and to watch video tutorials on how to use the cameras, lighting equipment, and editing software. In high school, he’d been part of the club that filmed area sporting events and stage musicals, so he wasn’tcoming in cold. But this was going to be a much more nimble kind of shooting. He’d need to move fast. I’d help him edit the footage, but he quickly needed to get the basics of everything else down pat.

Now, the hard part: finding contestants. It wasn’t like I had a huge pool of willing people who made sense. I had a tiny town’s worth and I needed to find singles in different age groups.

I drove my car in an aimless loop through the town center, trying to get ideas. Carol hadn’t been kidding. There were at least a dozen workers in the square right now. Some were building the ice rink partition, while others constructed the vendor booths and stalls for carnival games. I wasn’t the only one gawking either. A lot of cars and trucks were circling the chaos, dozens of locals wondering what the hell was going on. By dinnertime tonight, word would have spread: Falworth Christmas was back.

I needed a place to work, but I didn’t want to head to the diner quite yet. Through the windows, I could see Carol pacing, waving her arms, talking on the phone. Michael sat in a booth, phone stuck to his ear as well, paperwork on every square inch of the table in front of him. The two waitresses were running around the rest of the place, filling coffees and taking orders. Almost every table was full. No doubt the place would be busy all day as people wandered in, looking for gossip about the construction.

I parked and went into Jim’s pub, which was completely empty. No one was even bartending, which meant that Carol had taken over Jim’s day too. He was probably back in the office ordering kegs for the Christmas Village and figuring out how to get around any town ordinances that would theoretically prevent those beer sales.

I plopped on a barstool, pulled out my laptop, and got straight to work. I didn’t even take off my leather jacket.

I knew all the popular local Facebook groups, and I spent a solid hour crafting a post to intrigue local singles looking for love and fame. Then I sent out emails to people I knew better, explaining the concept and the reasoning.“I realize this is a weird way to help our struggling small businesses, but Falworth is a weird place”was how I signed off.

Not exactly eloquent. I rubbed my eyes and peered over the bar in case Jim had magically appeared to get me a Diet Coke.

“I don’t think there’s anyone working.”

I was so surprised at the sound of a man’s voice just a few feet away that I jumped on my stool and slammed my knees into the bar. “Jesus!” I barked, whipping my head around.

He sat four stools down, scrolling through his phone. “Sorry.” He did not sound sorry in the slightest. “I assumed you heard me when I came in and sat down.”

The stranger had a British accent, dark hair, funky glasses, and wore both an expensive cashmere sweater and a bored expression. He couldn’t have looked less local if he’d tattooedI’m from awayon his forehead. “Do you know the Wi-Fi password, by any chance?”

Of course I did; I’d installed it. “Nope.”

OK, that was unnecessary.Don’t piss off the tourists, Jane.Jim’s pub couldn’t handle a one-star Yelp review from some asshole.

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