Page 20 of Ten Christmases Without You
“Only the couple texts I mentioned.”
Madison pursed her lips. “I’d have thought you two would’ve carried on over the year.”
“I was working.”
Madison rolled her eyes. “You’re always working.”
Emmy shook her head. “How else will I pay the bills?”
“You make life harder than it has to be sometimes.”
“How so?”
“Don’t look at me with that sour face. It wasn’t meant to be a critique. I just meant in general.”
“In general? So I make life hard on myself a lot?”
“You’re barely scraping by in New York, working a job that’s beneath you. Why?”
“The city appeals to me.”
“I think, deep down, you like it because it reminds you of Mom.”
Emmy flinched in shock. “What?”
“Mom was a creative, big-city woman before she cashed it all in. She lived in Paris, for goodness’ sake. You’ve struggled the longest with her passing. I wonder if you’re putting yourself through this to feel closer to her.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she said, although Madison’s observation hit harder than it should have. “If I wanted to feel close to her, I’d have gone into design, but I didn’t. I’m carving my own path.” The words withered on her lips. Herpathwasn’t quite as smooth as she’d thought it would be. There were times when she wondered if she’d chosen the right direction.
“Why, then, when you can work a PR job anywhere in the country? You might make less, but your rent will also be less outside of a major city, so your quality of life would improve.”
“New York has tons of promise,” she countered, feeling blindsided.
“There’s promise in other places, Emmy. You know that.”
Just then, Emmy’s phone pinged. It was a text from Charlie:
Hey! O’Hare is having some sort of technical issue, and my flight was canceled. I’m trying to get on another plane, but it’s madness. I’m about fifty people deep in line at the rebooking counter. Hope to see you soon.
“Oh, no,” Madison said as Emmy texted back that she hoped he’d make it home okay. “He’s stuck in Chicago? That’s awful.”
“Yeah,” Emmy said, trying to hide her disappointment.
Even if he got a flight, he’d have to wait for boarding, make the trip, and then get to the house. She wouldn’t see him tonight. She smoothed the small creases in her new blouse at the bend in her arm, but it didn’t matter anymore if it got wrinkled.
So much for the perfect Christmas.
CHAPTER NINE
“Dinner,” Aunt Elsie called.
Madison stood up from her spot next to Emmy on the sofa. “Don’t be so gloomy. Charlie getting stuck in Chicago is a tiny setback. We’ll check on him throughout the night to be sure he’s okay. But right now, we’ll refill your sparkler, eat until we feel like beached whales, and then have a girls’ night instead.”
“What about Jack?” Emmy asked.
“They’ve got football on. He’ll have plenty to keep him busy. And there’s always the family ping-pong tournament.”
“I made a promise to myself that I’d try to participate and hang out with the family.”
