Page 129 of Happy After All

“Obviously I meant you needed to adjust them and make them higher,” I say.

He laughs, but that is quickly drowned out by the line of bagpipers who are playing “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” louder than I have ever heard it in my life, and this isn’t even the first time I’ve heard these particular bagpipers.

After that there’s a float, which is essentially the North Pole on a flatbed truck, sponsored by the hardware store. There is a homemade snow globe with people dressed like elves inside it, and an old farm dog dressed as Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer.

There is a section of old-fashioned cars, ballet folklórico, Irish step dancing. I polish off my churro, and Nathan gives me half of his. I want to call him a quitter, but I also want his churro, so I decide against harassing him.

During the parade, I realize that he has moved behind me and I’m leaning against his chest. Leaning against him. He’s holding me up. I sigh and let myself melt against him. I’m not afraid of the other shoe dropping. I’m not afraid of anything, not just now.

The parade ends with an aqua-colored convertible with Sylvia sitting in the front, and ...

I blink. Christopher’s sitting in the back, waving.

He is dressed exactly like he would be for one of his movies. Flannel shirt, scarf, despite the fact it really isn’t that cold, and a stocking cap.

I fold myself just slightly against Nathan’s chest because I don’t want Christopher to see me. Not right now.

Nathan becomes an even more solid wall, and I know he understands who this is.

His hold on me tightens, and the beauty of being held by him, protected by him, surpasses the stress I feel in that moment.

He whispers in my ear. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” I say. “It’s actually the anticipation and awkwardness at this point. He’s tried to call me twice. I haven’t answered. Maybe that’s stupid. I don’t know.”

“None of it is stupid. I think you’re in one of the few unique situations that a person could have in the world.”

“My ex-long-term boyfriend becoming a made-for-TV movie actor and showing up at my new hometown? Fair.” I look up at him, and I know he knows this, but I want to say it anyway. “I don’t want him.”

He nods. “Good.”

I take thatgood, and I hold it close. I turn it over in my mind like it’s a particularly shiny rock I want to look at from every angle. We walk from there to the site for the Festival of Trees and move down the line of food trucks, where I order something from every one.

“There really is nothing like girl dinner,” I say.

He lifts his brow. “And that is?”

“Having little bits of everything you might want. A great, eclectic triumph. A symphony of taste. Girl dinner is art.Sometimesit’sRitzcrackers and cheese, but it’s actually one of my very favorite things about being single. The ability to just have a meal that’s pieces of everything.”

“You can’t do that when you’re with somebody?”

“When you’re with somebody, you have to consider them.”

“They could also consider you,” he says.

It’s a reminder of why I like him so much. Putting it mildly.

“When you write a hero,” he says, “does the heroine get to choose the food?”

I ponder this for a moment. “Yes,” I say. “She does.”

“Don’t accept less for yourself than what you’d write,” he says.

His words echo in my head until we filter down to the A Very Desert Christmas venue, where a crowd is already amassing.

We head over to the location for our event, and the line waiting for us is beyond what I’d imagined. I’m not sure what I did imagine, but it wasn’t this.

There’s a big sign outside the tent pavilion for Nathan’s event, and it has both our faces on it. I stand next to the sign and spread my arms out, smiling. “We should get a selfie.”

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