Page 34 of Happy After All

I shoot Jonathan a look, and he only smiles at me with innocence I know is fake as he takes a step closer to his husband, and the two of them tilt their heads to the side and feign interest in Albert’s rant.

When Solis and Juan get back from work, they fix plates, and Elise starts to sing “Happy Birthday,” and everyone—even Albert—pauses to sing too. The kids are screaming more than singing.

I think I might cry. I do a little. If my eyes being watery counts as crying. Because finding out my ex is coming to town knocked me on my butt, and the specter of Chris feels intense. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize the festival.

Christmas is supposed to be about miracles and stars aligning.

I can’t even figure out what all this is. A cosmic joke?

“You’re the best, Amelia,” Elise says, setting the pie down on a table in front of me.

“Thank you,” I say. “My birthday istomorrow.”

“I know,” says Elise. “What’s wrong with birthday week? Start treating yourself early.”

“I love that for me, but it so happens I’m treating myself to a favorite at tomorrow’s dive-in.”

“Wish I could be there,” Elise says, smiling. “My boss has me manning the front desk.”

“You don’t,” I say. “It’sDie Hard.”

“How are you doingDie Hardin front of the kids? Is this Dive-In Way Way Way After Dark?”

“No,” I say. “I found it at a yard sale. It’s like one of those old CleanFlicks edits?”

“Good God, the movie is going to be five minutes long.”

“I previewed it. Now he says, ‘Yippee ki-yay, motherscratcher.’”

Elise cracks up and starts cutting the pie, which creates a small line of guests to sample her cooking. After she hands out the last piece, she looks over at me meaningfully.

“Room thirty-two is being cleaned,” Elise says casually, pretending to examine her nails.

I take another large bite of pie. “Yes. It is.”

“Random guest or ... is he coming back?” She looks far too interested.

I narrow my eyes. “You know, other people do reserve that room.”

“I guess so. But he has it blocked out often. Also, you’re in a weird mood.”

This is the drawback to having best friends. Best friends who actually care for you and notice your moods and want to offer support. I really should have thought that through. I sigh. “Yes. He is coming back. Tomorrow.”

Elise is way too amused by this, her laughter making her bracelets and earrings jingle in time with her movements. “No way. For how long?”

“Until the day after Christmas.”

“That’s . . . Wow.”

“I know. Especially since our last interaction—our last major interaction—was hostile.”

“Because he thinks you’re hot,” she says.

“Maybe. Though why should I care about that if he’s just going to be a jerk?”

“Good question.” Elise sits there drumming her nails on the table, thoughtful for a moment. “I know he’s very protective of his anonymity,” she says slowly. “What if he would do an event?”

I blink. “What?”

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