Page 31 of The Christmas Letters
“Good enough,” I finally say.
He drops his hands away and takes a step backward, and I immediately feel the absence of him like a heavy weight in my midsection.
“I don’t suppose you have any interest in just being friends?” Drew asks, his expression sheepish.
Friends might actually kill me, but I smile anyway. “Maybe we just start with you saying hello the next time you see me at the hospital?”
He grins. “I can definitely handle hello.”
We say goodbye, and I make my way back to my car, thoughts spinning the entire time.
On the one hand, itdoeshelp to know Drew’s history with Daisy and better understand where he’s coming from when he says he isn’t interested in pursuing anything withme.
On the other, it still stings to feel misjudged when I’m working so hard to live a more authentic life. Drew’s hurt is making him shortsighted, and that isn’t really fair.
He might just need more time though, which means being friends might not be such a bad idea. Friends fornowdoesn’t necessarily mean friendsforever.
Back at my car, I drop my beach bag into the back, then climb into the driver’s seat. My letter from Max is sitting in the center console, and I pick it up, pulling it out of the envelope to read it one more time.
“I don’t know, Max,” I say as I run my hand over the words written in neat, boxy letters. “You said the beach brings you peace, but today, I think it only made my life more complicated.”
Chapter Nine
Drew
AsIwalkbackto Grandma Pearl’s house, several key things stand out in my mind. One, Tess is just as beautiful as I remember her. Maybemorebeautiful. And two, she reallyisn’tanything like Daisy.
The way she giggled when Roxie knocked her over, loving on the dog instead of freaking out over all the slobber. The easy way she listened without getting defensive or dismissive when I told her what Daisy put me through. Her sincerity when she talked about Preston and her efforts to create a different path for herself.
Maybe Ididmisjudge her.
Still, she didn’t deny that her family would hate the idea of us having a relationship. It’s probably a little presumptuous to worry about things like that when we haven’t even been on a date. But after Daisy, I’m not interested in pursuing something that might lead to more heartbreak. It’s easy for Tess to say that she doesn’t care about her family now, but in a year, in five years, will she care then? Is it worth the possible tension?
A thought niggles at the back of my brain. With how quickly I felt a connection to Tess, she maybeisworth it.
And I just spent thirty minutes telling her all the reasons sheshouldn’tgo out with me.
Roxie nuzzles my hand with her nose, and I scratch her ears before opening Grandma Pearl’s back gate and letting the dog pass through.
“This is your fault, you know,” I say to the dog. “Had you just minded your business, I wouldn’t have known Tess was there at all.” Roxie doesn’t look sorry at all.
Grandma Pearl was napping when I got to her house earlier, but she’s up now, sitting in the living room with a blanket over her legs and a bowl of popcorn on the side table next to her. She smiles at me as I cross through the back door. “I hoped it was you who stole my dog,” she says easily.
I bend down and kiss her cheek. “Hope you don’t mind. I thought Roxie could use the exercise.”
“She always sleeps better after you take her out,” Grandma Pearl says. She motions toward the kitchen. “Another letter came for you yesterday.” She doesn’t even try to hide the childlike glee she obviously feels in telling me.
I duck into the kitchen and slip the letter into my back pocket like it’s no big deal. Like I don’t care at all that I’ve gotten a response. Like it isn’t exactly the distraction I need to keep my mind off of Tess.
“You want to watch with me?” Grandma Pearl asks when I’m back in the living room. She holds up the popcorn. “I’ll share.”
“For a little bit, I guess.” I’m headed over to Ben’s—he’s invited some of the guys from the station over to hang out—but I’ve got some time before I need to go. I scoop up a handful of popcorn and drop onto the couch beside her. “What are we watching?”
“You’ve Got Mail,” she answers. “And I’m already halfway through, so we should be able to finish it before you leave.” She hands me the popcorn bowl and stands up. “In the meantime, I’ll pretend I need to use the bathroom so you can read your letter in private.” She pats me on the head as she passes behind me.
I can only laugh at Grandma Pearl’s not-so-subtle nudging. I wouldn’t have read the letter with her sitting beside me, but I’m not above taking advantage of a brief moment to myself.
Dear Max,
