Page 24 of UnLucky Christmas
I smile to myself. Janelle is probably sweating thinking about taking time out of her day to socialize, but I appreciate her willingness to be a supportive friend.
“Anyway, there are one or two more venues we could consider for the party. If those don’t work, then we need to make a decision whether we’re still going to have it or skip this year.”
I rub my forehead. “Okay. I’ll try to come up with something too.”
After I get off the phone, I open my laptop and search local venues. Admittedly, I considered asking Macy if we could use her home, but I don’t feel comfortable enough to ask her yet. Even though she’s the type of person who makes you feel like you’ve been friends your entire lives.
I pull my blanket tighter around me and reach for my phone. I send Macy a text.
Thanks again for inviting me last night. Had so much fun.
About ten seconds go by, and then my phone buzzes.
I’m so glad. PS We were just talking about you. You made quite an impression on certain people last night.
Heat fills my cheeks.
You’re making me blush over here. Chad seems like a great guy.
Wow. I’m really doing this. A few weeks ago, I was sitting in this same spot crying into a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream. The last seven months have been about Pete and me, so it feels strange not to have him around. Anyway, I have no idea what’s ahead for me, but I’m hopeful about the possibilities.
I snap a picture of my Christmas tree and pause before sending the picture to my mother. Maybe there’s a tiny part of me that’s trying to get a reaction out of her. There’s an interrogation coming soon, whether she expects it or not. I’m still trying to decipher what she’s been up to. She claimed she didn’t cheat on my father, but she’s clearly open to the idea of having a new man in her life.
My phone buzzes a few minutes later.
That tree is lovely.
I make a face and type a response.
Who are you, and what have you done with my mother?
The old version of my mother would’ve hated it. Now I know without a doubt that something is different about my mother. She replies immediately.
What does that mean?
Do I really want to do this now? It’s bad enough I’m spending my Sunday recovering from a wine headache.
Never mind.
I’ve decided I don’t want to have this conversation today. My phone begins to ring, and I cringe. I guess we’re doing this because she’ll just continue calling until I answer.
“Hey, Mom.”
“What did you mean by your text?” she asks.
“It was just a joke.”
She’s doesn’t say anything.
“Anyway, what’s going on over there?” I ask.
It’s just easier to change the subject.
“Cleaning out closets,” she says. “I have some stuff for you and your brother to look through. When can you come over?”
I frown. It’s just a reminder of the changes that are ahead.
“I’ll come over soon.”
