ChapterOne
Sienna
“There she is!”
I brace for impact as my mother and grandmother descend on me in the arrivals area at the Denver airport.
It’s two days before Christmas Eve and the Gibb family matriarchs are decked out in matching Christmas sweaters, but their expressions are totally different. Nana looks like she’s just robbed a bank and thinks I’d be the perfect getaway driver, and Mom looks relieved I didn’t get lost on my layover in Salt Lake City.
My mother loves me so much, I know that, but as the baby of the family—and the only one not yet married—she also judges me, fusses over me, and finds something to criticize every single time we’re together.
It’s just a matter of time until—
“Darling, have you not been sleeping? You look terrible.”
There it is. “Thanks, Mom.”
“I don’t mean it like that. You’re so beautiful, but…”
“Nobutrequired. I’m fine. Rough flight, that’s all.”
That wasn’t all. The last thing I did this morning before leaving Oregon was drop a resignation letter on my boss’s desk, and tear out my heart in the process.
The only way I could do that with any bravery was when I was about to leave the state for the holidays.
Now I’m in Colorado, and I’m filled with a complicated regret I cannot entertain. Do I look terrible? Sure. Because I lost my heart to a man who will never want me the way I want him, and thatsucks.
And when I go back to Conception Ridge in a week, it’ll be to a small one-bedroom apartment and no job, no reference letter from my last employer, and no prospects. That all sucks almost as much as the broken heart I’m secretly nursing.
The aching hole in my chest is very distracting.
I could be an absolute Scrooge this Christmas, but my family can’t know the full extent of my woes, so…I have to put on a happy face.
Fake it ’til you make it, the festive edition.
“I’m grateful we’re all together as a family this holiday.” That part is the honest truth.
“It’s a shame Jake couldn’t come with you.”
And there it is. The other thing I’ll have to deal with all week…dealing with questions and comments about my imaginary boyfriend, who I never should have invented.
“Let go of the girl,” Nana says, pushing Mom out of the way. “Let me squish her, too.”
“Hi Nan,” I say gratefully.
She gives me a bright-eyed, mischievous look. “How much trouble can we get into this week?”
The giggle I let out as we embrace is the first light feeling I’ve had since last night. “So much. Do you have your flask on you?”
“In my bag.”
My mother gasps. “Mother!”
We both laugh at her exasperated snap.
“What? The girl is twenty-one now, it’s all right.” Nana pulls out the flask in question, we have a quick sip, and I refocus my energy where it is needed—on the week ahead.
* * *