Page 191 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

I laugh. “So apparently, she left part of it out.” But that doesn’t surprise me. She doesn’t strike me as the type of woman who loves the limelight.

Cal sobers. “I hear you’ve been spending time with Aidan. He’s a good kid. Thanks for helping Mary out.”

“Heisa good kid,” I say with a touch of wistfulness. “A great kid.”

Cal’s silent for a moment. “Mary’s pretty awesome too.”

“She’s amazing.”

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face, but it’s there and then gone. “I hope you’re ready to work your ass off, because this house needs a lot of TLC.”

“TLC is my specialty,” I say as I start to push the trolley down the aisle.

“Yeah,” Cal says, watching me with a sideways glance. “I can see that it is.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

MARY

After I leave Jace on Saturday, I feel shaken. Bereft in a way I can’t describe. It doesn’t make sense that I should feel this way about a man I’ve essentially just met, especially given everything I’ve gone through. I lost my parents at a young age. I lost my crappy marriage. I hurt my little sister by ignoring her accusations about our father, which I’d strongly suspected were true. And, most difficult of all, I confronted my fear for my child—because even though I love Aidan with all that I am, I fear for him because he’s different, and we live in a world that wants everyone to be the same.

All that heartbreak, all that worry, all thatfear, and still…

I feel broken because I decided to walk away from a casual arrangementIsuggested.

I keep hearing Jace say it was never about feelings, something that should make me grateful for my decision. Because it shouldn’t be about feelings. But somewhere between the multiple orgasms, the burned pancakes, and the rescue mission for Roger’s cat, I discovered Ilikehim, and not in the way you like a friend. EvenIknow that. It’s why I pushed him about his past. Because I didn’t want someone like Jace to keepsuffering for a mistake he made years ago. One I suspect he had strong reasons for.

I don’t have my car, something neither of us considered after our talk, so I just walk for a while. Walk and think. Walk and pine. Then I find a bench and sit and check my phone.

Nicole’s text is all caps:NO APOLOGIZING. EVEN TO YOURSELF. HARNESS YOUR INNER BAD BITCH. ALSO: NEW CHALLENGE EARLY NEXT WEEK. I WON’T TELL YOU THE DAY, BECAUSE I WANT YOU ON YOUR TOES. CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED.

The text makes me smile, but it’s a sad smile, maybe a little bitter. I’d felt like a “bad bitch” earlier with that jerk who’d tried to steal Roger’s cat, but it’s so hard for me to be like that in my private life. It’s so hard not to get steeped in regret.

Eventually, I take an Uber home and then meet up with my sisters at the bar for our girls’ night. Molly picked it out.

Of course, within twenty seconds of walking into the bar, Molly says (much too loudly), “You’ve had sex.Goodsex is life-changing. I always know.”

I glance around, suddenly worried Hilde might be here with the other lawyers from our office—of course, that would mean they got together without inviting me, which would be its own brand of bad—or that Mrs. Rosa could be slurping down cocktails in the corner booth, but I don’t recognize any of the other patrons. Just my two sisters, watching me as if I’d become a Lifetime movie.

“You said you’d only assume that if I cancelled on you,” I complain. “I’m here two minutes early.”

But they got here even earlier, probably to talk about me, because they each have a drink, and there’s a glass of white wine sitting in front of the empty spot next to Maisie. I have an irrational urge to dump it out and ask for…I don’t know. Maybe another margarita, or a crazy drink with a name like Sex inthe Mountains or Voldemort Got a Bad Rap. (I only have it on Molly’s say-so that such cocktails exist. Glenn would never have willingly visited an establishment with so much creativity.)

“Now I’m disappointed youdidn’tcancel.” Molly waves a hand in front of her face. “Maisie showed me a photo of Jace she found on Facebook, and that man is five-alarm-fire hot.”

Part of me wants to tell them, to tellsomeone. But I spent less than twenty-four hours with Jace, and it already feels like a dream. One where I was the kind of person who danced and had orgasms and let the wonder of unexpected happiness carry me along as if I were a paper boat bobbing in its stream, not constantly wondering when I would collapse. Besides, I’m their big sister, and I still feel it’s my duty to embody that role.

So I change the subject. “I think I’d like to take dance classes.”

My sisters exchange a look. Then Maisie turns to me. “I’m really glad to hear you say that. But, Mary, you couldteachdance classes.”

“No, I need to freshen up.” It’s on the edge of my tongue to add that I’m not good enough, that I’veneverbeen good enough, but then I remember the way Jace looked at me after he caught me dancing. With wonder. Something hums to life inside me, and I can see myself standing in front of rows of little girls in tutus, and I like it.

“Is that something you can volunteer to do?” I ask.

Molly is already nodding. “There’s a studio near me that gives people free studio time if they help out with the kids.”

That humming sensation, as if there’s a beast inside me that’s pleased by the idea, intensifies—and then sputters out. Because I can’t make a commitment like that, can I? Aidan needs me. He needs to be my sole focus. I open my mouth to say so, but Maisie beats me to the punch—

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