Unfortunately, during our pajamas and chocolate popcorn movie marathon last night, I’d made the mistake of telling them James would be coming over tomorrow.
I’d only mentioned it because they’d admitted to feeling bad about not being able to stay longer. I’d let them stew a minute before assuring them it was all good. They were off the hook because I had a friend coming over the next day to help decorate.
But in my attempt to relieve my sisters of their guilt, I’d inadvertently opened up a whole new line of questioning. I thought I’d dropped the information casually, but they must have heard something in my voice because the interrogation that had started last night continued today.
My sisters would apparently never run out of questions about my newfriend.
Oscar weaved between my legs as I went to the refrigerator to pull out the butter dish, nearly knocking me over. I steadied myself against the countertop as he sat and tilted his head endearingly, like he hadn’t just tried to take me out. My older sister used the tip of her ballet flat to rub under the dog’s chin as she brought up James yet again.
“Okay, so let me get this straight…” Maureen licked the mixer paddle clean of chocolate mousse. “You’ve known him for three months, and you’ve basically been spending all your time together?”
“I mean, that’s a bit of an overstatement—”
“And he doesn’t have anywhere to go on this holiday weekend—no family or anything—so spending time with you is his default?”
“I already told you. His family’s in Seattle. And he’s divorced, no kids, plus new to town. Don’t read too much into him coming over. He just didn’t have anything else to do.”
“You keep trying to play it off, but I’m calling bullshit. You must really like him if you trust him to help you go through mom’s Christmas decorations.”
It was bad enough that my own feelings about James had gotten muddled the past twenty-four hours. Maureen’s cross-examination wasn’t helping. “Look—we click, okay? And he makes me laugh. So, I know if he’s here with me when I open the boxes, it won’t be just about me remembering mom. It’ll also be about me having fun with James.”
Miranda had been letting me and Maureen spar, but at that, she hoisted herself on the counter and sat facing us. “Yeah. Pretty sure we can guess exactly what type offunyou’ll be having.”
“Oh my god. I told you it’s not like that!”
“But why not? If he’s so great?” Maureen jumped in. “Is he a troll or something?”
I laughed. “No. Definitely not. He’s cute. Big guy cute. You know, like a football player.”
“Well, now I’m really bummed I can’t stay around to meet him,” Maureen said. “I’ll admit you’ve got me curious.”
“For goodness’ sake. He’s just a new teacher at the school, and we get along and have become friends. End of story.”
At least, it was the end of the story until I figured out how I wanted to spin the narrative. My sisters were as bad as my meddling co-workers.
“If you say so.” Maureen didn’t sound convinced, but the beeping of the oven saved me from further analysis.
Getting up before the sun had given me plenty of time to reflect on that moment in the hallway with James yesterday. I thought about how he’d been wearing what I knew to be one of his favorite t-shirts—a tan long sleeve from the South by Southwest festival ten years ago. He had an extensive collection of shirts from places he’d been. The furthest I’d ever traveled from home was a trip to Disneyland at age eleven. James had told me once he’d learned to surf in Australia during a semester studying abroad. I’d only seen the ocean a handful of times. Even if I felt something more than platonic toward James, it was difficult to envision a scenario where he returned my interest.
I was kind of a case study in not being able to hold someone’s attention.
I knew James respected me. He’d shown me in every way possible that he appreciated my friendship and enjoyed spending time with me. But I reasoned that the novelty of the small-town girl would wear off. I could only imagine the type of sexy, exciting women he’d dated in the past. Meanwhile, everything about me was mid—medium build, medium height, medium brown hair. I’d never bought makeup from anyplace other than the drugstore, never worn eyelashes or gotten anything waxed. Even when I’d lived in Portland, I hadn’t had much interest in festivals and museums and farmers’ markets. I’d always been the person who was perfectly happy to grab beers at the same bar every weekend. What did I have to offer someone like James?
Friendship, that was what. And when he inevitably expanded his social circle, I’d be happy for him too. That was, if he even lasted in Coleman Creek. He seemed content to be here, and often said so. But I still wondered if the luster would fade. Maybe he’d get tired of sticking out.
There was no way to predict the future. Somewhere between basting the turkey for the dozenth time and peeling the potatoes, I’d decided I would simply enjoy my friendship with James for as long as it lasted. And if I felt more sparks, I could ignore them.
“I’ll pull the casseroles out and slice the turkey so we can eat,” I said to my sisters.
“I’ll finish setting the table,” Miranda said. “It smells delicious.”
When things were ready, I gave Oscar a Kong with frozen pumpkin puree inside. He trotted toward his bed to huddle with it. I’d had the red fox lab for over four years, since he was a puppy. I’d grown used to his big, pleading eyes. But my sisters were still suckers and had been sneaking him bread cubes and bits of turkey all afternoon. No doubt the reason his doggy expression bordered on smug.
As we took our seats, I giggled at Miranda’s crane-folding attempts with the napkins. Another remnant of our childhood.
“A for effort,” I smiled at her, unfolding a cloth into my lap.
Conversation flowed easily. Maureen detailed the new personal shopping and styling service her store was providing, as well as some upcoming trips she had planned to meet with designers. Miranda talked about finally getting a coveted slot on a rafting trip through the Grand Canyon next summer, and about the four different men she’d been on dates with recently, including a moderately well-known influencer she’d had to sign an NDA for.