Page 12 of Not Like Christmas At All
Gen: Caroling was fun. What’d everyone think of Liam?
My bed shakes as Pebbles rolls over, her long limbs sticking straight in the air as she settles on her back.
LOVED him! Miller and I both agree you need to date him.
I know better than to ask what Lincoln thinks of him, but it crosses my mind. Luckily, I don’t need to.
It seemed like Lincoln’s date didn’t go as well as yours did. Ashlee had the personality of a sardine. He was in a pissy mood the second we were ready to carol.
Interesting…
I can’t date him, he lives in Northern California.
So there’s these really great methods of transportation called airplanes…
I’m not a long distance kind of gal.
We stop texting, but I know it won’t be the end of our conversation.
Forcing myself to get out of bed, I pad over to my window, pushing open the curtains. The sky is dark despite it being mid-morning, storm clouds covering every square inch of blue. Spinning on my heel, I walk back over and pick up my phone, toggling over to the weather app.
One hundred percent chance of rain, and is that…snow?
That can’t be right.
In disbelief, I open a different weather app on my phone, convinced the first one is wrong, but sure enough, small little snowflakes illustrate this app as well.
I’ll believe it when I see it.
With a stretch, I throw my phone back onto my bed, accidentally hitting Pebbles in the paw when I do. She groans in protest.
“Sorry, Princess Pebbles, I didn’t mean to!” The baby voice is thick as I look at my dog from across the room, my lower lip worried as though she completely understands my words andmannerisms. Nevertheless, my apology seems to work, and she makes herself comfortable again.
When I’m dressed in my favorite pair of yoga pants and oversized Christmas sweatshirt, with fuzzy socks tugged up to my knees and my hair piled on top of my head in a messy bun, I leave the room with only one ambition: coffee.
The rest of my apartment is cool, and I shiver, making a pit stop to crank up the heater before finally indulging in a steaming hot cup of Christmas cheer. The gingerbread creamer today has me moaning a happy hum as I take a sip and melt onto my couch.
It’s too quiet in my house as I sit, looking out the window again and taking in my view of San Diego.
I love living here. There’s so much to do year-round, and so many opportunities at every turn.
For a fleeting moment, I’d thought about leaving—uprooting myself, and starting over somewhere fresh, especially when I finished nursing school—but I couldn’t picture myself anywhere else.
My mug is almost empty when my phone starts beeping repeatedly from my bedroom, notifications dinging as my phone receives text after text.
Part of me wants to ignore it and stay unplugged for a little longer, but a sinking feeling in my gut spurs me to stand.
I’ve barely made it back through the threshold of my bedroom when the phone begins to ring.
The name of the hospital’s chief, Rebecca Grady, flashes across my screen.
This can’t be good.
Doctor Grady only calls when there’s a staffing emergency,especiallywhen she knows it’s someone's day off.
“Hey, Chief!” I keep my tone chipper, hoping my instincts are off and I’m not being called in. Shecouldbecalling about anything—a paperwork error, a question…wanting recommendations for a book. The sky’s the limit, honestly, but I know I’m too optimistic. I should be preparing myself for the worst-case scenario.
No more days off for me.
