Page 7 of The Christmas Letters
“How was Paris?”
“Um, not as glamorous as it sounds? At least not for me. I was kinda going through something, so I mostly just stayed in and ate a lot of bread.”
“I guess there are worse places to live when you feel like binging on carbs.”
“That’s definitely true. Tell me something else about you,” Tess says. “I like the sound of your voice.” She pauses. “Well, not just your voice. Any voice will do. The distraction is helping.”
Her words spark something deep in my gut; it’s been a long time since I’ve felt a flare of attraction, and it doesn’t make sense that I’m feeling one now. Tess could be eighty for all I know. Or worse, seventeen. Though, she doesn’tsoundeighty. And surfing in Bali, traveling to Paris…that makes me think she probably isn’t seventeen, either.
“What do you want to know?” I ask.
“Are you from Charleston too?”
“Born and raised.”
“How long have you been a paramedic?” she asks next.
I do some quick math in my head. “Almost five years.”
“Any siblings? Spouses? Kids?”
I chuckle. “You want to know about pets and girlfriends too?”
I catch movement in my periphery and look over to see Ben staring at me, a ridiculous expression on his face. He lifts his arms and wraps them around himself, sliding them up and down and swaying back and forth while he makes fake kissing sounds.
I roll my eyes and wave him away. I’m not about to admit to Ben I’m feeling even a tiny bit of attraction. He’ll turn any situation into an opportunity to meet women, but I’m determined to keep this interaction professional. My job is to keep Tess calm. That’s all I’m doing. Just how much I’m enjoying myself is entirely irrelevant.
“You can tell me about the flowers growing in your grandma’s flower beds if you want to,” Tess says. “Anything is better than what I have to entertain myself in here.”
“You don’t have your phone?”
“Weirdly, I don’t. I left it in my car when I ran into Vera’s to grab coffee. Come on. Where were we? Siblings?”
“No siblings for me. I’m an only child. No wife. No kids. No girlfriend.”
“Wow,” she says. “And you lost your parents? That…I mean, do you have anyone?”
My gut twists with a familiar pang of loneliness. “I do all right,” I eventually say.
“Sorry. Was that a totally rude question? As soon as it came out, I wished I hadn’t asked.”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind you asking. I have good friends. My grandmother. Lots of extended family.”
“Extended family is good,” she says. “Actually, my best friend is my cousin. She’s having a baby in a couple of months, which is amazing. A tiny bit weird, but mostly amazing.”
“Why is it a tiny bit weird? Just that she’s having a kid?”
“Well, yeah. We’re the same age. I don’t feel like we’re adult enough to be thinking about motherhood, but she’s totally going to be a mom. That’s just part of it though. The other part is kind of a long story.”
“You got somewhere you need to be?” I ask playfully.
She takes an audible breath. “Okay. Here’s the thing. I’m going to tell you a story, but you can’t judge me for it. And you have topromiseme you aren’t judging since I can’t see your face to know for sure.”
“Okay. You have my word. No judging.”
“So…my trip to Bali. It was supposed to be my honeymoon.”
“Whoa.”
