Page 97 of Mistletoe Season
“Your body language at dinner,” says Mom. “I take it you two have a past.”
I shrug. I’m sure not spilling the tea now, not after all these years.
“You’re both grown-ups now,” Mom says.
I think she’s going to say more, but she leaves it at that.
Which is worse than her saying more because I feel small, like maybe I’m not being fair to Gwendolyn. Maybe I’m letting my imagination take control and reading too much into her words and actions.
Maybe it would be fun to do a little something to my hair for the holidays. Get wild, get glamorous. Start living the life I always imagined successful writers live. Do I want to write about life, or do I want to experience it?
Oh, what the heck. Why not?
“Okay, I’ll go,” I say.
***
Once I’m in bed, I nibble on my candy bar, then pull out the journal Ramona gave me and write my first entry.Every heroine faces challenges, both big and small. That’s great in fiction, but who wants it in real life?
Oh well. What doesn’t kill me...
I close the journal, shut my eyes, and dream of myself walking next door into the Davieses’ house, sleek and elegant with lavender highlights in my hair, which is twisted in a chignon. I’m wearing that famous black cocktail dress you always see Audrey Hepburn wearing in those old movie posters. No cigarette, though!
Anyway, there I am, strolling into the Davieses’ house. There’s mistletoe hanging in the archway to the living room. I pause for a moment to take in the chatting crowd. Christmas music is playing softly in the background.
And here comes Carwyn, wearing a tux. Oh, good grief, he is so droolworthy.
And he’s staring at me as if he’s seeing theMona Lisafor the first time. “Hailey,” he says breathlessly. “You look amazing. And what have you done to your hair? It’s awesome.”
“Just a little something for the holidays,” I reply.
“We’ve missed you,” he says.
“Have you?” I raise an eyebrow. I am so sophisticated.
“I’vemissed you,” he says. His eyes are burning me. He lowers his voice. “Remember all those years ago when I kissed you under the mistletoe?”
I shrug. “I’ve been under a lot of mistletoe since then.”
“And broken a lot of hearts, I bet.” He takes a step closer. “I’ve never forgotten.”
“We were just kids,” I say.
“We’re not now,” he says and slips an arm around my waist.
I wake up before he can kiss me.Nooooo.
I squeeze my eyes shut and try to get back into a dream state.Come on, subconscious, be a sport. Let me at least have Carwyn in my dreams.
My subconscious is a tease. She refuses.
I wake up the next morning feeling like I’ve been hit in the head by the Grinch. It takes two cups of coffee and an extra helping of pancakes to make me feel better.
And that’s only momentary. The feel-better ends when Mom says, “I left a message at the salon for Gwendolyn, so you’re good to go.” She smiles. “You’ll look fabulous.”
My mother is a force of nature, a sweet, well-meaning force. I remind myself that I’d already made up my mind. I’m going to do this.
Not just to make Mom happy, I realize, but because maybe it’s time I took more chances. I’ll be taking a big one on Gwendolyn,but like Mom said, we’re all grown-ups now. And besides, Gwendolyn wants to win points with Sam. Of course she’s not going to sabotage me.
