Page 35 of Ten Christmases Without You
“I wish I could be more like her.”
“You are. You just haven’t realized it yet.”
She huffed out a laugh. “I hope I realize it soon.”
The buzzer on her apartment door sounded. That was weird. She wasn’t expecting anyone. “Hey, Dad, someone’s at the door. Can I call you back later?”
“Of course.”
She said her goodbyes, abandoned her breakfast, and went over to the peephole to see who it was. A snow-dusted woman stood in view, holding a large garment bag.
Emmy opened the door, leaving the chain lock in place. The woman looked familiar. “May I help you?”
“I’m from The Garnet & Petticoat a couple of blocks over.”
That’s how Emmy knew her.
“We don’t usually do deliveries, but this is a gift. He paid double if I’d drive it over to you.” She held up the garment bag.
He?Emmy unchained the door.
The woman handed her the bag, along with an envelope. “He emailed me this and asked me to pass it along to you.”
“Thank you.”
Emmy shut the door and gasped as she unzipped the garment bag.
The green dress.
She draped the garment bag over her arm, then opened the envelope and read the message.
Emmy,
You lit up so much when you talked about this dress, and I couldn’t let it be sold to someone else. Anyway, I thought it might be good for New Year’s or something. You’ll find a way to get use out of it, I’m sure.
Happy Holidays,
Charlie
Emmy hung up the dress on the outside of her closet door and stared at it. It truly was stunning. What was she going to do with it? She’d missed her work party, and New Year’s was tomorrow. She didn’t have any plans.
She clicked on Charlie’s number and called him. When the phone pulsed, her heart pounded along with it.
“Hello?”
“Hi. It’s Emmy.”
She sensed his smile on the other end from the little breath that came down the line.
“So I got a gift at my door just now.”
“Please tell me it’s the correct dress.”
“Yes. How do you know where I live?”
“Well, I considered asking Madison, but I thought she might spill the beans. I messaged Adrienne. So are you going to wear it somewhere great tomorrow night?”
“Absolutely,” she lied. What else could she say?No, I’m a sad loner, and you’ve wasted your money?“You didn’t have to do this.”
