“Do you really think that you’re going to be able to do that?” Hope asked. “While living in Mountain Springs and while being a member of our family?”
Hope was four and a half years older than Noelle, and she was married and had three kids. So they were at very differentpoints in their lives, yet Hope was her best friend. Or, at least they had been as adults, even if they weren’t even close to best friends as kids. Now, though, Hope was the person she could share anything with.
Noelle sighed and rubbed her forehead. “It might take a lot more work than I was anticipating. Why did I have to slide on that ice and make my car inoperable right now, of all times?”
She’d bought her car three years ago for her birthday after falling instantly in love. She was the cutest car, not too big, and was the perfect Christmas red. She’d named her Elfie right on the spot.
The only bus stop that would take her from Mountain Springs through the canyon to Golden was right in the middle of everything. And to get to it from her house, she had to walk right down Main Street, so there was no avoiding it all. If she had her car, she could take a wide drive around downtown. She could find a path between her home and work where she could bypass it all.
“I might be skipping all the Christmas festivities, but I’m still going to buy presents for everyone. So there’s no way I can afford to fix Elfie anytime soon.” People were important, even if Christmas wasn’t for her anymore.
“So, what are you going to do?”
She shrugged and squinted through the snowflakes on her eyelashes and all the falling snow to see if the bus was close. “I’ve decided I need to get a side job so I can save up enough for the repairs. Lots of places are hiring temporary help at this time of year, right?”
“Yes,” Hope said, dragging out the word. “Lots of places. Like places where people do their Christmas shopping.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” Noelle shivered and switched her phone to her other hand so she could put the one that had been holding it in her pocket. “What am I going to do? I can’t just waituntil after Christmas to get a second job. I don’t want to wait that long to get it fixed, and that’s when businesses are least likely to hire.”
“I don’t know, but I’ll keep an ear out for you.”
She perked up when the bus lumbered around the corner, heading her direction. “Thanks, sis. My bus is here, so I’ve got to go.”
“We’ll miss you tonight!”
“I’ll miss you, too.”
But she wouldn’t miss the big reveal when they turned on all the lights and everyone ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the big tree and everything else they were setting up. Nope, not one bit. All of that excitement and anticipation for Christmas had left with Gran-gran. She turned her back on all of it—the decorations, the people setting it up, the Christmas music—and climbed into the bus.
She took a seat in the middle right as a Christmas song came on the radio. The six people seated in the back started singing along to it like they were carolers standing outside someone’s house, bringing joy and all that. Noelle pulled her hood a little tighter around her ears and tried to pretend like it was just winter. That’s all they were doing—singing winter songs.
She could do this. She could one hundred percent skip Christmas this year.
two
JACK
As Jack Meadowsneared his sister Rachel’s small house, he could see that the eight inches of snow that had fallen during the day covered her driveway and walks. Even though Mountain Springs was only a thirty-minute drive through the canyon from his home in Golden, it included a two thousand foot climb in elevation. He sometimes forgot how much more snow that meant that his sister got than he did. Snowplows had cleared the roads, thankfully, so he parked in a mostly clear spot in front of her house.
He responded to a few urgent work emails on his phone, then got out of the car, pulled on his hat and gloves, and opened his trunk. This time of year, he always kept good boots in his trunk for days like this. He traded his dress shoes for the boots, wishing he was wearing something other than suit pants, and tucked them into his boots. He would have to remember to leave a pair of jeans at his sister’s for times like these.
Then he trudged through the snow and entered her garage door code. He grabbed the snow shovel, switched on the outdoor lights, including the Christmas lights, and then went to workshoveling the snow from the sidewalks and driveway and piling it on the already two-foot-high pile of snow in her grass.
His mind was on work as he shoveled, which wasn’t different from any other time of day. He loved having his own ad agency, but it definitely took every bit of his focus while he was awake. And remembering the dreams he’d had last night, he had to admit that his laser focus didn’t really sleep when he did.
Eventually, he finished, stomped off his boots, and traded them back for his dress shoes. Then he pulled his car into the driveway, just in case the snowplow needed to come by again while he was inside—the skies didn’t look like they were quite done covering the world in white.
As he walked toward Rachel’s front door, he marveled at the Christmas lights on her house and trees. A neighbor must’ve put them up. He and Rachel never once had Christmas lights growing up. He wondered if she had asked for help or if a neighbor had just felt extra Christmassy and wanted to spread it to others.
He used his key to unlock the front door. The moment he had it open, his five-year-old nephew Aiden shouted “Uncle Jack!” and raced toward him, launching himself into the air as he neared, clinging to him like a starfish. Jack gave the kid a tight hug. Their golden retriever, Bailey, had followed right behind him, giving a single bark before panting, wagging her tail.
“Hey, buddy! How are you doing?”
“Good,” Aiden said as he slid back to standing on the floor. He grabbed Jack’s hand and pulled him toward the open kitchen and family room. “Momma and I were hoping you’d come. She’s extra sick today.”
Oh, no. He should’ve left work early. When they got to the family room, he saw Rachel sitting in the recliner, looking pale and weak—worse than when he’d seen her yesterday. He immediately went to her side. He knew that this round of chemowas a tough one, but he hadn’t expected her to look quite so sickly.
“Why didn’t you call or text to let me know you weren’t doing well? I would’ve gotten off work earlier and brought food.”