Page 13 of A Miracle for the Reserved Flyboy

Chapter 5

KRISTA

Hangingup the phone with Gary, Krista immediately fired off a text to Susan, her fingers practically flying over the keys.

Hey, pretty lady! So… how did it go with our handsome Air Force pilot?

The reply didn’t take long, but the response wasn’t exactly what Krista had expected.

Ugh, total disaster. Hold on to your britches—you need to know something about your ‘fantastic flyboy,’ because, oh my gosh, it was anything but fantastic!

Krista blinked at the screen in disbelief, her mind racing.What could have possibly gone so wrong?She waited, her eyes glued to the three little dots hovering at the bottom of her screen, signaling that Susan was still typing. The dots seemed to linger, drawing out the suspense to an almost unbearable degree. Krista could tell by now that whatever Susan was about to send was either going to be a well-thought-out assessment or, more likely, a rant she’d been bottling up since the date ended.

Then the message finally came through.

Yeah—complete dud. D.U.D. That guy was so uptight he might as well have had a yardstick shoved somewhere an excavator couldn’t reach. I have NEVER had such an awkward, uncomfortable date in my life! I’m telling you, Krista, that man almost made me swear off dating completely. It was like he hadn’t spoken to a woman in years, let alone flirted with one. I mean, did you know he hasn’t been on a single date in over three years? Not one! I almost feel sorry for the next woman who gets him, because it will be like dating a human brick wall. No charm, no finesse, no anything!

Krista’s eyes widened in shock, but the text kept going.

Oh, and let me tell you, it only got worse! When I tried to lean in for a good night kiss—you know, a simple peck—he literally turned green, bolted for the nearest patch of grass, and threw up! Yep, vomited! Right there! It was so bad I almost wanted to join him! Krista, if this is what I can expect from your matchmaking skills, I’m begging you, please, don’t sign me up for another round of ‘who’s-who’ dating disasters. Next time, could you at least ask if they’re actively looking for a relationship or just a woman who can validate their parking ticket? Because Gary was definitely more the latter.

Krista gasped, covering her mouth with her hand as she read the last few lines. She scrolled back up, re-reading parts of the message, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Holy cannoli,” she whispered, stunned. This wasn’t the Gary she knew. How could such a charming, funny guy turn into… well, this? She’d been so sure that he and Susan would click, and yet the whole thing had seemingly imploded.

"Gary, Gary, Gary…" she muttered to herself, trying to process it all. The image of Gary throwing up after a kiss was too wild to picture, but she couldn’t ignore Susan’s vivid description. The poor guy must have been a nervous wreck. Still, Kristacouldn’t shake her confusion—how could her charming friend have turned into such a… disaster?

Just as she started typing a sympathetic reply, her phone buzzed again with another message from Susan – still ranting:

Girl, you owe me BIG for that one. Next time, I want a background check, a personality quiz, and a minimum of three references before I agree to meet another guy you set me up with.

Krista stifled a laugh, feeling a bit guilty, yet amused.I’m so sorry! I had no idea it would go like that… He’s normally so charming, honestly!

Yeah, well… NO!

He owes me a new pair of shoes after that date—I mean, they’re practically ruined from dodging the splash zone!

Krista didn’t text back. It was really hard to say anything after that because she wasn’t going to buy the woman a new pair of shoes, nor did she want Gary to know she’d texted Susan. It would only feel like she was snooping in – and she was.

“Curious,” she whispered, staring at her phone in confusion. “He didn’t mention any of this… I wonder why?”

The next morning,Krista huddled in her cozy, cluttered living room, a needle and thread in hand as she worked on the last-minute repairs to the costumes for the town's upcoming Christmas play. She was surrounded by scraps of colorful fabric, ribbons, and stray sequins scattered across the coffee table. The play was set to take place at the annual Christmas event in the town square—a beloved tradition that would unfold just days before Christmas Eve. She could almost feel the festivity in the air already, with the smell of peppermint and cinnamon likely tobe wafting around, mingling with the laughter of townsfolk and children squealing in delight.

Every year, people gathered in the heart of town to celebrate. It was a true winter wonderland filled with the warmth of community. There were tables brimming with homemade goodies, cocoa stations with enough whipped cream to float a sleigh, and a petting zoo that delighted the younger crowd. The usual horse-drawn carriage rides might be a bit of a gamble after the mishap a few years back when one of the old wooden wheels gave way, resulting in a memorable firetruck ride through town instead. Last year, even their resident ‘elf’, Cade, had surprised everyone with a musical number that ended with him down on one knee, proposing to his now-wife, Beary, in front of everyone. Krista grinned at the memory; she’d have to work hard to top that kind of surprise this year.

This season, she’d volunteered to help with the Nutcracker performance because it was one of her favorite tales, and, well, it kept her busy. Christmas break, while lovely in theory, often left her a little too aware of the empty spaces in her life. Her parents didn’t help either, always over-eager to find out why she wasn’t bringing anyone home. It wasn’t as though she didn’t appreciate their concern, but with each passing holiday, their questions only grew more creative.

This morning had been no different. Over breakfast, as she buttered her toast and sipped her coffee, her mom cleared her throat—a surefire sign that something awkward was coming.

"You know, Krista," her mother began, her tone careful, yet with a hint of awkwardness. "Your father and I… well, we consider ourselves very progressive people."

Krista raised an eyebrow, not exactly following. “Okaaay? Where’s this going?”

Her mother leaned in, her face hopeful yet strained. “Well, if there were something big you wanted to share with us, you know you could, right?”

“Uh, like what?” Krista asked, confusion thickening her voice.

Her mother hesitated, looking for the right words. "Like… let’s say, if you were driving a green car and you actually preferred a blue car… you’d know you could tell us, right?”

Krista blinked, then glanced outside, where her red car was parked. “Mom, my car is red.”

---