“Thanks, boy,” I said, scratching between his ears.
I started sketching, attempting to capture the coziness of my surroundings. A two-foot fake Christmas tree with silver garland sat on the dresser, a recent addition that hadn’t been there yesterday. The soft glow of the tree’s tiny lights added a touch of holiday cheer.
At seven thirty, James and Marley came in briefly to say hello before heading to work, coaxing the dogs out to the backyard. Since Oscar snored like a buzz saw and Bambi farted like he’d just eaten chili with a Brussels sprout chaser, it didn’t pain me to see them go.
Maureen showed up five minutes later, holding colorful mugs shaped like Christmas presents in each hand. Steam swirled up and faded into the cool morning air, the spicy aroma of tea filling the room.
I gestured toward the little tree.
“Marley insisted,” Maureen said. “A bit of Christmas in your room. To keep your spirits up.”
“The sweaters she wears every day aren’t enough?”
Maureen laughed good-naturedly. “You haven’t seen anything yet. She and James have matching holiday pajamas. Footie ones.”
I could easily picture it. “And you? Any adult onesies with candy canes or snowflakes you’ll be modeling for me?”
She made a face before asking, “Are you up for some chai?”
“I think so. I don’t feel nauseous anymore. Just need to get my strength back.”
“How do you take it?”
“Plain.”
She set the mugs down on the nightstand, then sat in the chair as I passed her one of my sketchbooks. I stayed seated on the bed, propped up with pillows against the headboard. “You can look. Honestly, the ones I did in the past few hours are probably the best. I meant it when I said inspiration doesn’t come easily, but this morning it has.”
She took the pad from me and opened it, studying each drawing carefully before turning to the next page. “That’s like me and my vid—” she started, before stopping herself. “Me in Coleman Creek. I feel the creative flow here, too.”
“Were you about to say videos?” I grinned. “I know all aboutFashion Vibes.”
Her mouth dropped. “You do?”
“James spilled the beans by accident a few months ago.”
She put the sketchbook down and reached for her mug. Blew over the top of it. “Which clips did you watch?” she asked.
I hesitated as my cheeks heated. “Um…all of them.”
“All?” Her eyes went wide.
“Maureen, you wouldn’t speak to me. You wouldn’t even let us be in the same room together. I wanted the piece I could have.”
Inhaling slowly, she placed her mug on the dresser next to the tree. She ran her hands back and forth over her thighs. “Well, what did you think?”
“Honestly?”
“Of course.”
“Seeing you as Francesca reminded me why everything that happened between us five years ago matters. Who you are. Why neither of us can let it go.” I reached out and pulled her chair closer to the edge of the mattress. “It reminded me how much I like you.”
Maureen hmphed. “You realize I’ve murdered you a thousand times in my head. Not to mention all the things I’ve said to you out loud.”
A rough laugh escaped me. “I remember. You swore you’d never forgive me.”
“And I meant it.”
“But you don’t anymore?”
