Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
I frowned at her strange comment. “Well, Beau is a great cook for sure.”
“Meri, why do you sound like someone kicked you in the lady hump? You’ve been dragging your saggy, skinny ass around the office all week.”
I grabbed my purse and started packing up for the day. “My ass is fat, but thanks for the compliment. And I’m fine,” I said in a miserable not-fine voice.
“Are you? Because you haven’t brought any baked goods to the office this week, and you’re usually swinging into high gear by now, determined to plump us all up by Christmas. And I still haven’t received my invite for your party.”
I sighed. “Yeah. I’m not throwing one this year.”
Shawna’s mouth fell open. “Now I know something’s up.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I muttered.
“Okay, but if it’s a question of help or anything like that, all you have to do is ask. I know you’ve been working like crazy lately, so—”
“No.” I shook my head. “It’s not that. I just…don’t have the motivation this year.”
“But you’re Miss Ing. Never stops cooking, baking, planning, decorating…”
“Well, I recently learned that my enthusiasm for inging isn’t actually shared by everyone.”
“I can’t speak for your other friends, but I always look forward to crazy Christmas at Meri’s.”
“Shawna, even you said the other day that all I ask of you as a friend is to show up at my party once a year.”
“It’s true. You’re very low maintenance.”
“But that’s my point. My party shouldn’t be a chore.” I grabbed my laptop and shoved it in my bag. “It’s supposed to be a gift—something you get to do instead of having to do.”
I knew I came off sounding like I was having a pity party for one, and maybe I was, but the joy of Christmas had been zapped right out of me this year. Then I’d met Beau and…and…
Started using him as a distraction. But the truth was that maybe it was time to move on and start focusing on other things. Things other than Christmas and Beau.
I could begin by spending time figuring out what I really wanted to do with the rest of my life. One by one, my friends were getting married and having kids. Even Kay’s little sister had busted out an entire family.
What did I have?
A storage locker filled with decorations for a house I didn’t own, for a family I didn’t have and never would if I didn’t stop my obsession for a very unavailable man.
What am I doing? Who did I think I was, pretending to rescue Beau? He was the last person who needed saving. The guy literally snapped his fingers and got a job and a place to stay. He’d taken care of himself for years with zero support. He was the least needy person I’d ever met. And here I was running around thinking I needed to save him.
“I’m really sorry if I ever made you feel that way,” said Shawna. “I love your party, and if you change your mind about throwing it, just say the word. I’ll clean, bring supplies, and do whatever you need help with. Except cooking. I suck at that. But your hot Black baker friend can whip us up some treats.”
I gave her a look. “What baker?”
She laughed. “Beau. Hello? You know, the guy who’s been staying with you.”
“Shawna…but he’s…” I was about to say he wasn’t Black, but I bit my tongue. Maybe she wasn’t well. And if not, she needed help. The sort I couldn’t give her.
I’d have to contact her sister on the way home.
“But he’s what?” she asked.
“I was going to say that he’s probably not sticking around much longer. He doesn’t stay in one place very long.”
“It’s the season for wishing, though. Right?”
“Right. See you when I get back.” I’d be off next week. “And have fun tonight.” I got my things and left.
The entire drive home, I couldn’t stop thinking about Shawna. It was one thing to forget a name or not recall someone’s eye color, but she couldn’t remember what Beau looked like. I was genuinely concerned.
I found Egypt’s profile online and sent her a DM, telling her I needed to talk. I gave her my number and let her know I’d be on the road, driving to my parents’, so if I didn’t answer, to leave a message. The reception wasn’t always great on those mountain roads.
I pulled up to my building, planning to run in, grab my suitcase and snow chains, and then hit the road. With luck, I’d beat the storm by an hour.
I entered the building, finding Jason sweeping the top of the staircase. There were little pieces of white fluff everywhere.
“Mrs. Larson buy a flocked tree again?” I asked.
“I keep telling her to get a regular tree and do that stuff inside her own place, but she never listens. Or cleans up. By the way, I just saw that old guy go into your place.”