Page 15 of Flirting with the Scrooge

I lean in toward Olivia. “I’d hate to disappoint him, but it’s not waving.”

Olivia busts out laughing. “Oh my God! The snowman is flipping you off!”

All I can do is press my lips into a tight line, holding back my smile as I frantically nod.

She doubles over with laughter. “Did he crown the snowman with your wreath, too?” She wheezes.

“Sure did.”

Olivia gasps for air next to me.

After our argument and brush with death, we went our separate ways. An hour later he came back outside and collected some sticks and used twine to MacGyver a makeshift stick hand. “At least he kept it festive. Perhaps he’s found a tiny sliver of Christmas spirit. I’ve named him Frank. Fuck Xmas Frank. Because I’m sure if he had two hands, he would show all of us exactly how many fucks he gives about Christmas.”

“Fuck Christmas Frank,” she says.

“No. No. Fuck Xmas Frank. He can’t be bothered to use the full word.” I shrug.

A chuckle escapes her. “Wait, we gave him two stick arms. What happened to the other?”

“A neighbor’s dog wandered through his yard, gnawed on his arm, and then ripped it off his body. But he didn’t leave without marking his territory. Maybe that’s why he’s so bitter about Christmas.”

“Oh! Poor Frank got peed on!” She laughs, almost hyperventilating. “Usually, that only happens after too many shots of tequila. I need to come over to your house more often. This is pure entertainment.”

“I’m glad you’re finding my neighbor from hell experience entertaining.” I grab the garment bag from her arms and walk toward the house. “I, on the other hand, just want to go back to before he got here. When my life was calm and peaceful.”

Olivia's hot on my trail. “And when you were sulking over Adam?”

I whirl around, hand on my hip. “I wasn’t sulking.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. There was so much sulking. I could practically hear you sulking from across town.”

“You can’t hear someone sulking,” I say, mostly to myself.

“I know you put on a good front when everyone was around, but I know you. At the end of the day, you came home, alone, and polished off a glass or two of wine and beat yourself up over why he broke up with you.”

Some nights it was three glasses, but who’s counting? We were supposed to be each other’s forever, at least that’s what I thought. I did everything to be the perfect girlfriend, and what did I get in return? Tossed to the side for someone else. “There is nothing wrong with a little alone time. It helped me reflect.” And agonize about what I did wrong and what I could have done to make it better. Dammit.

“There is when you’re doing it for the wrong reasons.” With her hands on my shoulders, she spins me around so I’m facing her. “Adam’s an idiot and you deserve someone better than him. Someone who will give up everything to be with you and not mold you to fit his perfect life.” She uses air quotes on the last two words. “And Fuck Xmas Frank agrees with me with his one finger salute.”

Deep down, I know she’s right. I’ve been beating myself up over this, but it’s still hard. I force a smile and give her a curt nod. All my life I tried to be the perfect daughter, girlfriend, employee, and what has it gotten me? Dumped, fired, and alone for Christmas. Maybe I need to take notes from Frank and fuck it all.

* * *

Over the next hour, I try on the three dresses she brought over and pair possible shoes and accessories. Not once did Adam or Connor enter my thoughts. I focused on me. Perhaps spending time with someone besides myself was the exact distraction I needed. After the dress is picked out, along with the perfect accessories, Olivia leaves and once again I’m left with only my thoughts.

I curl up on the couch and toss a blanket over my lap. The TV comes to life as I scroll through a streaming app to find the perfect Hallmark movie to watch. Thirty minutes pass and I have no idea what’s happening. Something about a farm. An arch nemesis. It’s as if I’ve been staring at a blank screen the whole time. Picking up the remote, I turn off the TV and reach for my tablet instead. Maybe if my eyes are busy, I won’t get lost in my own thoughts.

After I read the same paragraph three times, I know it’s useless. Each time I stop, my mind wanders to Adam and if I could have done something different in our relationship. Maybe if I tried a little harder, we’d still be together.

I slam my tablet on the cushion next to me and huff. Instead of sitting here, stewing in my own thoughts, I do the only surefire thing that will keep me occupied. Jumping up from the couch, I stride into the kitchen. I pull out my nana’s homemade cookbook and flip to her cookie recipes. I trail my fingers over the soft, worn paper and make a mental note of all the ingredients I have and which ones I’ll need. Chocolate chips. I don’t have chocolate chips.

My gaze flits to the clock on the wall. Nine o’clock. The store's only open for another hour. I can make it. I dash to my bedroom and stand in front of my vanity. With a tug on the hair band, my hair falls from the messy bun and cascades over my shoulders. I stare at myself in the mirror. Hours have passed since I removed my makeup and traded my jeans for comfortable yoga pants.

My mother always told me I couldn’t leave the house unless I was looking my best, stating, “You never know who you’ll need to impress.” I know for a fact yoga pants and a t-shirt are not looking your best. Screw it. I’m not in the market to impress anyone. So far impressing people has gotten me nowhere.

I yank a hoodie from the hanger and tug it over my head, feeling the soft fabric against my skin. This will at least keep me warm. Hastily, I shove my feet into my boots and throw my coat over my shoulders, not bothering to zip it up. As soon as I open the door to the outside, cold air blasts through me, reminding me why I should just stay home. But I can’t, I’m now on a mission. The door slams behind me.

TEN

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