Page 22 of Christmas Comeback


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I set off for James and Marley’s engagement party, thinking about taking another risk.

Chapter eight

Maureen

“Oscar, watch Bambi do it, okay? C’mon, Bambi. Shake.”

James’s labradoodle obediently lifted his paw and let me tug it up and down a few times. I rewarded him with a candy cane–shaped treat from the side table.

“Okay, Oscar. Now you. Shake.” Marley’s Labrador looked at me curiously and angled his head to the side, tongue lolling out lazily. “Shake,” I implored. He tilted his head in the other direction and used his hind leg to itch the back of his neck. I sighed. “I think your dog is broken,” I called to my sister in the kitchen.

One of the best parts about staying with Marley and James was their two dogs, both of whom fell into the “loveable but dopey” category, although James’s had a few more tricks.

I stretched lazily on the green tufted couch. I’d been here for over a month with no imminent plans to depart. Crashing with my big-hearted sister had done a lot to soothe the restlessness I hadn’t realized I’d been feeling.

Kolya’s had shuttered at the end of summer, and I became unemployed. Although I’d felt like a failure at first, that sensation quickly evolved into relief. I’d known for a while I was unhappy. Managing and buying for a high-end boutique—working in elite fashion—didn’t spark my passion. I’d learned a ton and would always be grateful for the opportunity, but I didn’t want to build an unsatisfying career in fashion merchandising just because those were the words on my college diploma. I was only thirty-one years old, too young to give up on the idea of being genuinely fulfilled by my work.

Regrouping in Coleman Creek had proved to be a wise decision. Especially this time of year. My hometown always showed well during the holidays. The corny displays in business windows and over-the-top lawn decorations lifted my spirits in the way only familiar things could.

The season had also exploded inside the house. Marley and James had three enormous trees—two upstairs, one downstairs—covered in ornaments, and photographs from Christmases past lined every spare inch of the bookshelves. My eyes caught on one picture, probably twenty years old, of my sisters and me in matching reindeer pajamas. I hadn’t taken any of our older family photos when I moved to Seattle, so I loved unlocking these memories.

“Do you want sour cream on top or on the side?” Marley appeared in the kitchen archway.

“On top is fine.”

I stretched out my fingers and closed one tab on my laptop. No more work today.

I’d taken a flexible remote position handling insurance claims. I’d been working since age sixteen, had done everything from cashier to landscaper to cater waiter to process server, and I’d accepted this job more to feel like a productive member of society than to pay the bills. Thanks to my mom’s inheritance and Marley buying Miranda and me out of our childhood home, my finances were stable. While I figured out my next career step, claims processing kept me busy and put a little extra money in my pocket.

Of course, Marley and James wouldn’t let me use that money to pay rent, so I compromised by keeping their fridge fully stocked. I’d also bought new linens and end tables for the guest room and paid a company to clean up the backyard for their engagement party. They’d been particularly grateful for that last one—school activities kept them extremely busy this time of year, sending hedge trimming and leaf blowing to the bottom of their priority list.

I knew they were glad to have me, but it hadn’t all been smooth sailing.

I’d messed up last week when I came home with a Christmas tree bought fresh from the Coleman Creek High School lot.

Seeing the noble fir propped up against the garage door, Marley lamented, “But I wanted to go tree shopping with James.”

Whoops. I’d unknowingly thrown a wrench into my sister’s plans to couple-bond with her fiancé. In my defense, it hadn’t occurred to me that getting a Christmas tree could be some big, romantic production. It was simply one of those necessary holiday chores—they didn’t have a tree yet, so I bought a tree. Done and done. I hadn’t realized something so perfunctory could be anexperience.

Except the moment that thought crossed my mind, it hadn’t rung true. Our mother had raised us on these types of rituals. There had been plenty of Christmases during my childhood where Marley, Miranda, and I darted around the lot, playing hide-and-seek while our mom wandered around, trying to find the perfect tree. I’d just forgotten.

“But didn’t you say you and James wanted two trees?” I’d asked, her sad face making me feel like crap.

“Yes.” She sniffed.

“Well, I only got one, so you two can still go pick out the other one together.”

Some of the tension left her features as she walked closer to the tree I’d purchased. “Hmm. That makes sense. It would be easier if we only had to tie one to the car.” She lifted a branch. “And this one is very pretty, nice and full.”

“Seriously, Marls. I’m sorry I didn’t ask first, but I appreciate you letting me buy one. Bren and I used to just put up a little fake tree. Lugging this monster to my car and getting needles in my hair trying to strap it down really made me feel like I’m home for the holidays.”

She’d cracked a smile, unable to stay grumpy for long. “I guess I can’t argue with that.” Her face lit with mischief. “Maybe I can talk James into getting a third tree—you know, since we’re having the party?”

“Why not?”

The next day, she and James had gone together to pick out the second tree. And the third.

Teasing my sister reminded me how much lighter I was in Coleman Creek. Bren had moved in with Chase at the same time I’d lost my job, keeping me from renewing the lease on our apartment. Coming home to figure out my next move had felt like surrendering at first, but now I was grateful.