Josie came back in the room with the plate, which was now scattered with crumbs. “Look convincing?”
I dropped my arm, and Aaron took a step back. “Very. I have a few more gifts for them in the car. Can I put them under the tree?”
“Sure,” Josie said. “Would you like to stay over? Watch them open gifts in the morning?”
I thought for a second. “Sure. Thanks.”
Josie brought me a blanket and pillow, and I stretched out on the couch. When all the lights were off except the tree lights and the house was quiet, I lay there in the dark and thought about Claire. Wondered if she was asleep or awake. Wondered how dinner had gone. Wondered if she missed me. Wondered if I had the courage to go to her and ask for another chance.
Would she accept me?
I thought about what my brother had in Josie and the girls, and how nice it was to see him stepping up to be the person—husband, father, man—he wanted to be.
It gave me hope.
Twenty-Four
Claire
* * *
Five days after Christmas, I packed two bags—one with clothing, one with art supplies—and headed out of town. I was reluctant to leave right in the middle of my kitchen restoration, but I wasn’t getting much joy out of the work anyway. It had been a lot more fun with Theo around.
I was loading the bags and an easel into the car when my phone buzzed in my coat pocket. I didn’t recognize the number. Who’d be calling me at nine A.M. anyway?
“Hello?”
“Claire, it’s Theo.”
My traitorous heart beat quicker. “What do you want? And how did you get this number?”
“From the Hotties for Hire site. It’s on your membership application.”
I frowned. “I need to cancel that.”
“Yes, you do.” A pause. “I need to see you.”
“I thought you didn’t need anything or anybody.” I didn’t even know why that hurt me so much—he’d told me flat out the day we met that he had no ties to any person, place or thing and liked it that way. Had I honestly thought I might be the exception? I was such a fucking fool.
“I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t mean it.”
What? I hesitated. “It took you a week to realize that?”
“Yes, actually. It did. But I want to talk to you about it in person.”
Part of me wanted to give in and see him, but I’d learned my lesson with Theo. “Well, I can’t. I’m going up to the cabin for a few days.”
“What cabin?”
“My family’s.”
“Alone?”
“Yes, alone,” I snapped, aggravated that now he cared about my plans. “Want to know why? Because I couldn’t bear to let you ruin my Christmas Eve dinner by announcing our breakup, so I made up a lie that we were going on a romantic vacation together.”
“Let me come with you. For real.”
“Why? So you can fuck me and leave me again?” It wasn’t like me to be so crass, but he pushed all my buttons. Now he wanted to be real? Too late!
“No. Please Claire, I just want to talk. I won’t even touch you.”
“Ha! I don’t believe you, Mr. I’m Not Good At Stopping.”
“There’s a lot of snow headed our way. The roads will be bad—you shouldn’t drive alone.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
He exhaled noisily. “What do I have to do to convince you to hear me out?”
“I don’t know, Theo. I really don’t.” I hung up.
Then I burst into tears.
* * *
The drive to the cabin usually took about four hours, but snow started to fall about an hour in, so it took me closer to six. I spent the time trying to take my mind off Theo by listening to an audio book. However, my audio library was full of nothing but romance, and three hours into the story, I was annoyed and frustrated with the heroine’s reluctance to commit to the amazing guy who wanted her.
“Grow up!” I shouted at her. “Do you know how many women would love to have a man like that fall for them? I can’t even take you right now!”
I turned it off in favor of catching up on NPR podcasts, but I was still grumpy when I pulled in the long driveway that led to my family’s vacation house.
My mood improved slightly when the cabin came into view, covered with snow like frosting on a gingerbread house. We’d always called it “the cabin,” but the only cabin-like thing about it was that it was built from logs and located in the woods. In reality, it was four thousand square feet of luxury. Since my mother is afraid to fly but my father loves to get away, they built the cabin after they got married to have a place to go. My sister and I had spent every summer here growing up, and my parents planned to retire here.
Summers were beautiful, but I’d always loved winter up here too—the snow made it look like a wonderland, and the play of light and shadow as the sun shone through the bare branches of the birch trees was exquisite. I was always inspired by it, and by the tiny bursts of color when a cardinal or bluebird or robin stopped to eat at one of the bird feeders my father and I hung in the trees. First thing, I wanted to walk one of the hiking trails through the woods, but I needed to get some winter gear on first. The snow was a foot deep.
After deactivating the alarm, I let myself in the front door and locked it behind me. I took the bag with my clothes up to my room and left the bag with the supplies by the giant floor to ceiling windows overlooking the woods and frozen lake. A quick check of the pantry, fridge, and freezer told me I had plenty of staples but I’d have to hit the grocery store for milk and fresh produce. Not right this second, though—I was antsy to get outside and move my legs after the long car ride. A quick walk would be perfect, then I’d brave the slippery roads again.