Page 78 of Babies for the Christmas Grump
I never want to let her go. Is that crazy?
I’ve never felt this way. But I want to keep hold of her, to tug her close to me, and to remain this warm forever.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Sunny
December 17th
I’m buzzing.
No, seriously, there’s an actual jitter in my stomach as I stand in the lobby of the hotel, glancing at the clock every few seconds. Marjorie is about to arrive, and even though I know she’s always late, I can’t help it.
I’m just so ready for her to get here.
Tinsel winds between my ankles, brushing against my legs like a tiny, warm anchor. I kneel for a second to scratch behind her ears, letting the soft purr under my hand calm the jitter in my stomach.
It’s ridiculous how much Marjorie’s energy makes all of this, everything, feel lighter. The second she steps through that door, I know everything’s going to shift.
Her chaotic, optimistic, and borderline-manic vibe is precisely what I need. I’ve been drowning in spreadsheets, contracts, and hotel problems for days, and frankly, I’m this close to pulling out my hair.
I pace in the lobby, imagining what ridiculous outfit she’s wearing this time. Last week on FaceTime, she wore a neon pinkscarf with a fur-lined hood that made her look like she belonged in a circus.
The door swings open, and there she is.
She bursts in, hair a little wild, carrying a giant duffel bag that looks like it’s been through an emotional rollercoaster. The moment her eyes land on me, her lips curl into that vast, grin-inducing smile of hers, and it’s like someone flipped a switch inside me.
All the tension I’ve been carrying for the past week starts to fade away.
“Sunny! I made it.” Marjorie announces loudly as she flings her arms wide in a dramatic show. “Thank goodness. That was one hell of a journey. But totes worth it to see my BFF.”
She tosses her bag onto the nearby couch with an exaggerated flourish, as if she’s just saved the day.
“You’re late,” I tease, though I can’t help the smile that stretches across my face. “I was about to call for a search party.”
She drops onto one of the chairs in the lobby, wiping her brow dramatically. “What can I say? Traffic’s a nightmare. The Uber from the airport took forever. And then I almost got distracted by a donut shop on the way here. But don’t worry, I stayed strong. I only got one for myself and none for you.”
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms. “You’re the worst. I can’t believe you didn’t bring me a donut. After you promised me and everything.”
Marjorie just shrugs, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “I’m kidding. I have one in your bag. But I also have something way more valuable.”
I raise an eyebrow, but before I can ask what she means, she stands up with a flourish, as if announcing her entrance to a Broadway show.
“Ready to save your life?” she asks, bouncing on her feet. “It’sme, of course.”
I let out a dramatic sigh. “I don’t even know what you have in mind, but I’m ready for anything at this point.”
“Perfect!” she says, as if she’s just been handed the keys to an entire kingdom. “Gala prep starts now.”
I can feel it already, that familiar rush of excitement that only comes when I’m with her. Marjorie has this magical ability to make everything an adventure.
No problem too big, no task too overwhelming. We dive in, no hesitation, no second-guessing.
“Alright,” she continues, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “what do you need help with first? Flowers? Decorations? Psychic intervention for Ryder’s ridiculous spreadsheets?”
I can’t help but laugh at that last suggestion. “Ryder might need a psychic to read between the numbers for him,” I mutter under my breath, though I’m only half-joking.
“Well, obviously I have to meet him while I’m here…”
