Page 6 of UnLucky Christmas
I’ve replayed my conversation with Pete over, and over again. I’ve wondered if I should’ve handled things differently. I guess I could’ve asked more questions, although I’m not sure I want to know the real answers. There’s a part of me that still wonders if he met another woman. I shake my head in hopes to empty the negative thoughts continuing to swirl around in my mind.
I turn down another aisle, and my eyes land on two adorable little throw pillows that sayjoyandmerry. Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something. I drop them into my cart.
“Aren’t these the cutest?” says a high-pitched voice from behind me.
I turn around to see a tall, gorgeous woman with long platinum blonde hair and an adorable plaid mini skirt. She’s holding up the same pillows I just picked out.
“They are,” I agree. “Although I probably don’t need any more holiday pillows.” I second guess myself and reach into my cart to remove the pillows.
“Oh honey, there’s always room for throw pillows. I’m convinced they give off a positive endorphin our bodies desperately need.”
I give her a weak smile. “In that case I should fill this cart. I need all the positive endorphins I can get.”
She nods her head. “I’ve been there. But this time of year makes everything better. Get the pillows and don’t feel guilty about it.”
“You’re right,” I exclaim.
“Of course, I am,” she says as she snaps some pictures of the décor with her phone and quickly types something.
“Which of these cake stands do you like better?” she asks, pointing to the shelf.
I study the selection and point to a white stone with gold trim.
“Great choice.” She takes another picture and types something.
“And it has matching serving dishes,” she adds. “These are perfect for today’s post.”
I give her a curious look, which she must notice.
“I have a holiday Instagram page,” she tells me.
I nod knowingly. “You must be an influencer.”
Her eyes light up. “Yes.”
I tell her I’m a social media director for my company.
“Ah. So, you know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m Macy by the way. My page is Macy’s Merry Holidays and more.”
I open the app on my phone and sure enough Macy has over fifty thousand followers. Good for her.
“I’m Whitney Cortland. It’s nice to meet you.”
Macy and I begin discussing our favorite holiday things. I tell her about our Christmas party and show her a picture of the new tree I ordered.
“I feel like we were meant to meet today,” she exclaims. “People like us need to stick together. Did you know that some people think it’s insane to get this excited about the holidays? Such a bunch of grinches.”
I laugh. “I’ve heard that a few times.”
“They can judge all they want,” Macy declares. “I did a dedication post to all the grinches last year, and it was a hit. Thankfully, my husband indulges me. He enjoys the holidays like any other person, even though he doesn’t share the obsession with me.”
The mention of her husband reminds me I no longer have a special person in my life. I force a smile.
“Well at least he supports your obsession.”
“Exactly.”
Her phone begins to ring, and she holds up a finger while she answers it. I continue to browse the selection, adding a few more things to my cart. The concept of retail therapy is legit, and there are worst things I could use to help me deal with my breakup.
