Page 1 of The Jinglebell War
CHAPTER ONE
Blue
“The problem with romance books is they all end with the main characters trapped in these happily ever after fantasies that will never live up to the hype.” I’m fully aware I’m speaking out against the majority opinion, this is a romance book club meeting after all, but I just can’t be quiet any longer. “I want a romance that ends with freedom.”
“So you don’t want a romance book.” Alice sits cross-legged in the comfiest armchair in the room, a plate of Peach’s cookies on her lap. She’s the youngest of our group, my cousin Cherry’s sister-in-law. Like me, she seems firmly anti-romance in real life.
We’re in Cherry and Xavier’s small cabin in our chosen home of Yuletide, Colorado, and I’m covered up and snuggly in one of his grandmother’s heinously ugly crochet throw blankets.
“I do,” I say. “I want all those falling in love, serotonin, pheromone good feelings. Those are the best. But ending upwith two people arguing over whose turn it is to take out the trash just ruins it all.”
“Tangled up in Daisiesended with Marissa hopping on a plane with her fiancée to see the world,” my sister Peach says around a bite of snickerdoodle. She’s on the couch, her legs stretched out over Cherry’s lap. She’s wearing a pink, oversized sweater and leggings, her dark hair in a loose bun, her make-up on point as always. “That sounds like freedom.”
“And inRoses are Ruined, Jebediah and Capshaw sail off together to their own deserted island,” Murphy Mae says. Tonight, she’s in the rocking chair Xavier’s grandfather made, and she’s wearing a worn sweatshirt, with the name of the high school where she coaches girls’ soccer. She’s somehow more beautiful now that she’s five months pregnant. She truly does glow. “That gave me the best feelings.”
I roll my eyes. “Give Jebediah three hours and he’ll be complaining that Capshaw left her dirty clothes on the deck again, and Marissa’s need for routine will ruin her romantic getaway on the first day.”
“Love isn’t about it being fun all the time,” Cherry says. Her chestnut hair is silky and thick and looks adorable in two buns on either side of her head. I try not to be jealous, but I definitely have hair envy. My hair isn’t even half as thick as hers and it’s naturally a dishwater blonde, which is why I regularly dye it pink. “It’s about two people figuring out how to love each other through the dirty clothes on the floor and their need for routine.”
I shudder with a full-body cringe. “Ugh. No, thank you.” Books make romance sound so wonderful, but I’ve never seen it in real life. Sure, Cherry’s been happy with her husband Xavier for two years, but they’re still in their honeymoon phase. Peach and her fiancé Nick have been together for a year, but they’ve only been living together for a few months. I would never tell my sister or my cousin that I see doom in their futures, but I’mready to pick them up off the floor when it happens. “I’ll take my casual flings over ‘romance’ every single time.” They don’t need to know how long it’s been since I’ve had a casual fling.
“So you’re not going to make a real-life romance happen like your sister and your cousin did?” Alice asks. Both Cherry and Peach had novel-worthy romances, though neither went the way they’d expected.
“Nope. My only goal is to have no romance at all. I’m good with the books. I don’t need it in real life.”
“How about you?” Cherry asks Alice. “Don’t you want to have a real-life book romance?”
Alice smiles. “I’m with Blue on this one. Flings with tourists are way more fun than getting serious.”
Cherry glances at me, but I shake my head. Cherry is rooting hard for Alice to realize our favorite barista slash artist Finch is head over heels smitten with her, but I’m firmly in the camp of leaving it alone. If Finch had a shot with Alice, she’d have noticed him already. People don’t suddenly develop an attraction for someone they’ve known all their life.
“Well, I have some news.” Peach smiles, her eyes lit with mischief. She slides a hand into the bag next to her and pulls it back out, presenting a stack of cards with SAVE THE DATE emblazoned on them. “I’m getting married.”
Everyone cheers, but my heart sinks. I grin and congratulate my sister along with everyone else, guilt washing over me because I don’t feel as happy as I should. Nick is a kind and loving man and he treats Peach like a queen. I couldn’t wish for a better guy for her.
I am happy to see her so happy, but I’m so afraid her happiness isn’t going to last.
I’m so glad she has Nick, but I’m also terrified of what will happen when she loses him.
Setting an actual date is serious. It means lawyers and paperwork and pre-nups. And when it doesn’t work out, not through any fault of their own, but because romantic love never lasts in real life, I don’t want my sister to have to litigate the end of her love affair or to endure a stale and passionless marriage.
Peach is one of the nicest people in the world, she deserves every happiness, and I don’t think I can handle seeing her broken-hearted.
Selfishly, I also feel like I’m losing her. She’s always told me her big news first. She’s always talked to me about everything and now she’s announcing her wedding date to the whole group. I’m just one in the crowd.
First, she doesn’t tell me about the date for her wedding, next, I’m the last one she tells that she and Nick are adopting a dog. I’ll be on the outside.
I’ll be the sister who dog sits sometimes and shows up for holidays when my job, as mayor of Yuletide, allows.
But I hug my sister. I take a glass of champagne when Cherry pours it, and I toast to the happy couple. I discuss wedding plans and pretend I’m not hurt that they’ve already chosen a date for next summer without talking to me about my availability. Of course, I’ll cancel the spa retreat I had booked as a surprise getaway for me, Peach, and Cherry, but they could’ve asked.
Murphy Mae and Alice leave for home, Save the Date cards in hand, leaving us to the wedding talk.
“How far along are you in the planning?” I ask as we settle back into our seats.
Peach bites her bottom lip and fiddles with the hem of her sweater. “We already have it pretty much planned.”
“Okay.” It’s okay. This is her wedding. She can do whatever she wants. Of course she can. But what if she’s paying too much for the venue or didn’t make a contingency plan for badweather? I push my smile wider and breathe through my nose until I feel some semblance of calm.
