Page 24 of A Christmas Mystery

“That was hardly what I’d call a freak-out.”

“Maybe. But still... I could have probably managed to drive home without contaminating my car.”

“It would have left a smell. So this plan made more sense.”

This plan really doesn’t make more sense than driving home like a reasonable person, but I appreciate that he’s making me feel like my behavior wasn’t irrational. “Thanks for letting me use your shower and your clothes.”

“Not a problem. Will your dress go in the laundry okay? We can wash it now if you want so you don’t have to take it home smelling like that.”

I hesitate because I like the idea, but it will require me staying here for long enough to wash and dry it. “It will. But you really don’t have to—”

He doesn’t let me finish the statement. He’s already picked up my dress and taken it to a closet in his hallway, which houses a small stacked washer and dryer.

I help him choose the wash settings and put in the detergent. I’m glad the dress isn’t like a lot of my other clothes and requires handwashing.

“Well, now I’m stuck here for a while, unless you want me to leave before it’s—”

“Are you serious, Maya?”

He sounds so baffled that I stare. “About what?”

“You really think I’m expecting you to take off before your dress is even done?”

I swallow hard. “Well, no. Probably not. But I didn’t know. I’ve never been your favorite person.”

“What do you know about who my favorite person is?”

I’m not expecting this kind of response from him. I’m used to him being grumpy and withdrawn, even when he’s trying to be civil. “I... I don’t know.”

I expect him to back down. Drop the subject. Look away. That’s what he’s always done before whenever conversation between us got serious in any way.

But he doesn’t this time. He’s looking right at me, and he doesn’t drop his gaze. “What don’t you know?”

“I don’t know... I mean, you can’t pretend you ever really liked me. I appreciate that you’ve been good to me this weekend, but you’ve never... you’ve never liked me.”

He pauses a beat before he asks in an oddly textured voice, “Is that what you think?”

An excited shiver runs up and down my spine. I have no idea where it even comes from. I open my mouth to reply and then close it again. Don’t say anything.

We stare at each other for almost a minute—about fifty-five seconds too long. Then I finally drop my gaze and clear my throat. “Anyway, thank you.”

“For what?”

“For the shower and the laundry and not acting like I’m making a big deal about nothing. And for helping me this weekend even though I’m sure you think the whole situation is ridiculous.”

“Why would I think it’s ridiculous?”

“Because it kind of is. Who makes a huge production over figuring out the mystery person who’s been writing her?”

“If he’s been writing you regularly for a year, then he must be into you. Trying to discover who it is isn’t a ridiculous thing to do.”

I’ve never actually put into words the significance of my faithful correspondence with this person, but Theo is exactly right. The most logical explanation is that he’s into me.

And the most logical explanation for my reciprocation is that I might be a little bit into him too.

That moves my mission here beyond simple curiosity and wanting to meet a challenge. And it also makes me feel very weird—because what does it say about me that I might be into a mystery man but I’m also having very weird, excited feelings about Theo?

The whole thing is awkward and bizarre and laughable. Only I could get myself into this situation.

---