Page 30 of The Bright Side of Christmas
“Just make sure you give that little nugget a big hug for me.”
She gives me a grateful look, then grabs her things and makes her way out the door. I sit on the stool where she was, purposefully avoiding Hallie’s eye from beside me.
“Oh, so youcansee when people are too tired and should get some rest. Interesting,” my best friend muses.
“A blind person could see that she was exhausted and needed rest, Hal. I was just sitting here, might as well let her get some sleep.”
“Or, call me crazy, you could have let her handle her own issue like an adult and gone home yourself and gotten some sleep.” I roll my eyes at her dramatics, but her face isn’t joking. “I’m serious, Wren. You look completely shot.”
“Gee, thanks,” I deflect, but the truth of the matter is, Iamexhausted. The kind of exhausted that’s bone deep, the kind where when you wake up, you don’t even feel a little better, the kind that you just know will take a week of solid sleep to get over.
Unfortunately, I have so much to do that I can’t afford to indulge in the luxury. Today, after school, I spent hours organizing and categorizing the gifts we currently have for the Angel Tree, and then I made a list of what still needed to be purchased using the cash donations we’d received. Celine helped me for the first hour, but then she got a call from her sitter that her youngest had a fever. I told her to head out, and I’d finish myself, but it meant I barely had thirty minutes between getting home and Hallie picking me up to unwind and eat a quick dinner. Then I was back out the door to help Natalie decorate for her fundraiser as I’d promised.
Hallie has been giving me the side-eye since she picked me up, so I’ve been trying to avoid her and another lecture about taking care of myself. Partly because I don’t want to hear it, and partly because it reminds me of a different situation involving Adam and the mixed feelings I’ve had over the past few days.
I went to bed almostearlythe night Adam hung the lights, but the next two nights, I stayed up late getting more items off my to-do list. I told myself it was because I had work to do, and it was true, of course. I finished the decorations andbegan prepping for the school holiday party, then moved on to organizing my own shopping list and completing a few gifts.
But if I’m being honest, a part of me kind of wanted to see if Adam would do anything if he saw me up late again. If he’d storm into my house again, throw me over his shoulder, and toss me into my bed.
What would happen if I did tell him to kiss me?
Or even more curious, what would happen if I asked him to curl up in my bed with me?
Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how delusional I’m being at that moment—I haven’t had to deal with any of those what-ifs, because I haven’t seen him since that night he hung up those lights. Clearly, I haven’t been on his mind at all, though he has been on mine. In fact, when I do finally lie down in bed, I’ve been finding it hard to sleep, my mind continually running through that almost-kiss, the way he felt pressed up against me, the way he seemed so sure wewouldat some point kiss.
Except then he ignored me.
Stupid, hot, frustrating Scrooge of a neighbor.
“It’s Nat’s fundraiser. I have to be here.”
Hallie rolls her eyes at my excuse.
“Yes, and you helped set up and handled the donations for and assembled all of the raffle gift baskets. Now you can go home.” She moves, sitting on the stool beside me behind the raffle table. “I’ll handle this. Get some sleep.”
I shake my head. “I’ll be fine. Plus, when I head home, I have to finish that quilt.” I’d been putting off finishing the binding since it’s so time-consuming and boring, but once I do, it will be one more thing off my list.
“A quilt?” she asks with wide eyes.
I sigh, remembering I didn’t tell Hallie about that one.
“It’s a favor for my mom,” I say, picking at the cocktail napkin that came with my Shirley Temple. Even though a real drink would take some of my anxious edge off, I have far too much to do to risk the potential sleepiness.
“Are you kidding me?” She turns fully toward me, and the genuine concern on her face makes me suddenly concerned for how bad I mustactuallylook. “Wren, you can’t keep this up. I know this is kind of your thing, stretching yourself too thin for everyone around you, but this is next level.”
She’s right, though I won’t tell her that. What good will it do? Even though I have more on my plate than I can handle right now, there’s no fixing it. Things have to get done, decorations have to be made, lights have to go up, and I have to help everyone. It’s what I do.
“I just need to get through the holidays,” I say, trying to put on what I hope is a cheerful voice. “Once the holidays are over, I’ll be able to relax. It’s temporary.”
She looks over my face, a hint of disappointment flashing there. Her voice lowers before she speaks. “You know, this used to be your favorite time of year.”
Her words settle in my gut, but my brow furrows in confusion.
“What are you talking about? It still is.” She tips her head, giving me a look, and I shake my head in denial. “My favorite time of year is Christmas, you know that. That hasn’t changed. I love it. It’s magical; you know that. I’m having fun.”
“Is it? Because you look and sound miserable.”
“No, I don’t.” She raises an eyebrow. “I don’t! I’m just…” I take in a deep breath and look around to ensure no one is watching us before whispering my confession. “I’m a little overwhelmed. It’s a lot. I don’t know how my grandmother did all of this on her own.’
