Page 4 of Hensley Manor
“I saw the way you looked at it,” Lance said, sitting at my kitchen table. “I never took you for a snow globe collector, but I don’t know. You usually don’t show interest in much, so I wanted to get it for you since you seemed to like it. Thought you could display it somewhere and, hopefully, it’ll give you some Christmas cheer.”
I tilted it upside down and then watched the snow fall on the manor. “Thanks, man. But you didn’t have to.” My cheeks heated. I was weird about receiving gifts. “Not sure why I even picked it up in the first place. I can pay you back for it.”
“You’re not paying me back. It’s called a gift.” He stood up and came over to give me a one-armed hug. “I gotta go or I’ll be late. Try not to be a bitter bitch today, okay? Christmas is not your enemy. Repeat that a million times if you have to. And hold the snow globe while you do.”
I scoffed. “I don’t see why you want me to be a Christmas freak like you.”
“Because it makes me happy,” he said. “And you could use some of that happiness. Have you given any more thought to the party? Please say you’ll come.”
“I don’t know.”
Every year, Lance’s parents threw a massive Christmas Eve party at their house. Well, mansion would be more the word. The house was so big that the hundred or so people that attended the party could all be inside at the same time, some in the sitting room, others in the dining room, and the rest in the larger parlor where a fifteen foot Christmas tree always stood, surrounded by gifts for everyone in attendance. I hadn’t attended the party in two years, but Lance still asked me every December.
“Mom wants you there,” he said, touching my arm. “So do I. Just…tell me you’ll think more about it?”
His parents had been incredibly kind to me over the years. Some rich people were snotty and self-absorbed, but they were givers and never asked for anything in return. Much like their son.
“I’ll consider it.”
“Okay, good.” He flashed a smile and stepped toward the door. “Talk to you later, C.”
After he left, I walked into the living room and placed the snow globe on the coffee table. I sat on the couch, drinking the coffee he’d brought for me. Lance might’ve been a little spoiled and obnoxious at times, but he had a good heart and was a much better person than me. I wished I had his positive outlook on life. He was charismatic and loved people, whereas I tended to avoid people and preferred staying at home.
I wasn’t introverted or shy. I had just…given up, I guess.
Before I showered, I let the water heat in the old pipes and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn’t recognize the guy staring back at me. My eyes were the same, and although my jawline was sharper than it used to be in my teens, my face hadn’t changed much.
But I wasn’t who I used to be. In high school, I’d been like Lance. I had laughed a lot, whored around, partied, and dated a few guys. I’d even liked the holidays.
I had been happy then.
Everything was different now.
After I showered, I started a pot of coffee, as the one Lance brought wasn’t nearly enough, and cooked breakfast. Once the scrambled eggs were done, I popped bread into the toaster and poured a mug of fresh coffee. I took it all into the living room and ate in front of the TV.
A weather advisory flashed across the top of the screen, saying a winter storm was approaching. The snow hadn’t stopped falling since last night. I’d say the storm was already here. Good thing I didn’t need to go anywhere today.
Hours later, though, I realized I couldn’t stay cooped up in the house any longer.
I bundled up in my heaviest coat, shoved on a beanie to cover my ears, and put on gloves. I didn’t know where I was going, but I needed to stretch my legs. As I left the apartment, I gazed upward and saw it had stopped snowing for now. More was expected to come periodically through the next day or two and people were advised not to drive unless they absolutely had to. The salt trucks hadn’t started on the roads yet, but I was sure it wouldn’t be long until they did.
I lived within walking distance of downtown, and for some reason, that’s where my feet carried me. Even though snow was piled on the roads and the air was immensely cold, there were still people out in it. They held shopping bags and laughed as they passed me. Another family ducked into the café, probably to snag a warm meal and reprieve from the biting cold.
For a brief moment, I remembered a time when I’d been like them. Mom had fussed at me to put on my gloves and Dad had let me wear his, which were way too big, because I’d forgotten mine in the car. My sister had wanted to be a ballerina and gushed over a dancing studio that advertised tickets forThe Nutcracker.We hadn’t been perfect, but we’d been happy.
“Hello again.”
I halted on the sidewalk and turned around. The older woman from last night stood in the doorway to the antique store, waving at me. I debated on whether to keep walking or not. My mom had raised me better than that, though, and she would be disappointed in me if I was outright rude to someone. So, I lifted a hand and waved back.
“Hey.”
“Would you like to come in?” she asked, nodding with her head to the inside of the store.
So I can be brutally murdered? No thanks.
“Um, thanks, but I’m heading home. Maybe some other time.”
“Did your friend give you a gift today?”
