Chapter 31

When I finally reach my house, Trudy, Paisley, and Addy pounce on me the second I walk in the door.

“What took you so long?” Trudy asks.

“Yeah, where does he live?” Paisley asks. “Macon?”

“And how could you forget we're doing a girls’ night?” Addy puts one hand on her hip.

I drop my purse on the kitchen counter. “Merry Christmas to all of you! It's so good to see you. Sorry you had to wait for me.”

I walk across the kitchen and into the family room, where I plop onto the sofa. Trudy trails behind me, Paisley bounces, and Addy practically stalks, but they all reach the family room and sit down next to me. Trudy takes the other end of the couch, and Addy and Paisley each claim a chair.

“If we're going dancing,” I say, “there's not much of a rush. It never picks up before nine-thirty or ten.”

“Not on a Sunday. It starts earlier, because it ends earlier. People have work to go to. Which isn't the point,” Trudy says. “I lined up one of the nurses from the hospital to be my sitter so I could see you, not so I could sit at your house and tap my feet.”

Paisley rolls her eyes. “No one cares about waiting a little while. And we ate some of your frozen sugar cookies while we waited, so thanks for that.”

I chuckle. “Of course you did.”

Addy taps her fingers on the arm of the chair impatiently. “Now, details. Who's this Luke and how did you meet? And when? Paisley wasn't very forthcoming.” She scowls and I realize she's jealous that Paisley knew about someone she didn't. A jealous Addy is a crabby Abby. I smile at my rhyme.

“I met Luke at Bentleys the other night while I was waiting for Shauna.”

“Wait, why were you waiting at Bentleys?” Trudy asks. “I didn't know that.”

I sigh. I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but I think that prohibition really was meant for people at the office. Obviously I need to discuss it with my friends and family to make a decision. “Shauna offered me a promotion. Actually, she offered me her job. She's moving back to London.”

Paisley gasps. “What? So the move to accounting was…” She waves her hands in the air. “A lie?”

I can’t suppress my smile. “Shauna made me promise. I can’t believe you didn’t sniff this out, honestly.”

Paisley crosses her arms and huffs. “I mean, I did. But you still should have told me.”

Trudy has been following our interchange like a golden retriever eyes a tennis match, but now her eyebrows rise. “So will you take it?”

She knows I love my job; I love running numbers and doing returns. I don't want her to realize why I'm taking it, so this needs to be convincing.

“Yep,” I say. “I'm taking it. Because it's the chance I've been waiting for. It's more hours, but they're evenly spread, not just focused on tax season.”

Paisley glances from Trudy to me and back again, but she doesn't say anything about my reasons. I practically cry with relief.

“Congrats on the promotion,” Addy says. “I really have been out of the loop.”

I shrug. “It's not a big deal, honestly.”

“Um,” Trudy says, “you just said it's the chance you've been waiting for.”

“Is it more money?” Addy asks.

I nod.

“Why didn't you group text us and like shout and gush and brag?” Addy asks. “That's why you have friends. So we can celebrate.”

I shrug my shoulders. “I guess I didn't want to annoy you guys.”

Addy shakes her head. “Well that backfired. Now I'm annoyed you didn't tell me.”

I roll my eyes. “Well, get over it, because I met a guy named Luke that night, while I was waiting on Shauna. He was funny, and pretty persistent. I finally gave him my number.”

Paisley grins. “And he's super hot.”

“Wait,” Trudy says. “You've met him?”

Paisley smiles and tosses her hair. “I loaned her my dress the night they met. Then I've been texting her about it non-stop, and she showed me a photo he sent. He’s blue eyed, and he has the most beautiful smile I've ever seen. Oh, and he's tall. Did I mention Mary says he's tall?”

I roll my eyes. “The point is, between work stuff and Sub-for-Santa, which Foster's shutting down for good this time, I haven't had time to update anyone. Plus, Trudy, you've been busy with your stuff.”

“How's Troy?” Paisley asks. “I've been praying for the little guy.”

Addy throws her hands in the air. “What's wrong with Troy?”

I glare at Trudy. “You've got to tell people. About all of it, or no one can help you, goofball.”

Trudy looks down at her black boots and mumbles something even I can't hear.

“I can't understand you,” Addy says. “What's going on?”

I take pity on poor Trudy. “Chris left, and shortly after she found out he had a girlfriend, she discovered Troy's got Type I diabetes. It's been a rough few weeks.”

A tear runs down Trudy's face. “I don't wanna talk about any of it, though. I'm sick of thinking about it, and crying about it, and wallowing. Tonight I need to have a little fun.”

I stand up and brush my hands on my jeans. “Speaking of, I'll go change. You guys can psychoanalyze me on the way to Flare, okay?”

“Oh, we will analyze,” Paisley says. “You're not getting out of this conversation. I want to know what you were doing over at his house all day. I thought this was casual and not long for the earth.”

“Wait,” Trudy says. “What?”

Paisley's jaw drops. “Oh em gee, did you stay the night at his place last night? Is that why you were over there?”

I pull up short and pivot on my heel to refute that. “Of course not. We've only been out a few times.”

“Well, then what did you do?” Paisley calls. “A day date is odd.”

Paisley, Trudy and Addy follow me back to my room and start expressing opinions on every outfit I pull out of my closet.

“Not the black dress,” Addy says. “It's too dark for your complexion.”

“Thanks for that.” I toss the dress in the corner. Goodwill bound, apparently.

“Not the yellow,” Paisley says. “You look like a banana.”

“Oh my gosh,” I say. “Where were you guys when I was buying this stuff?”

Addy shrugs. “We're here now.”

Finally no one objects when I slide into brown pants and a bright, emerald green tank top with an ivory, chunky, off the shoulder, knit sweater flung over the top.

“Perfect,” Trudy says. “Not trying too hard, not too hot or cold, and lots of texture. I love it.” She tosses a long, black leather necklace with a huge silver heart pendant at the bottom over my head. “Let's go.”

Once they're all loaded into my car, Trudy in the front seat, Pais and Addy in the back, Paisley picks up again. “Enough deflecting. What were you doing today over at Luke's house?”

My fingers grip the steering wheel so tightly, my knuckles turn white. “We were shopping.”

“Shopping? For what?” Paisley asks. “Wedding rings?”

“Oh my gosh, Pais,” Addy says. “Knock it off.”

Paisley glares at Addy, which I can see through my rear view mirror.

“We were shopping for our Sub-for-Santa families.”

“You roped him into that?” Addy asks.

I shake my head. “He signed up for it himself, before he ever met me. In fact, we went on a date before I realized he was even on the list. It was a little awkward when I did. That's one of the reasons Paisley knows all about him. Someone signed him up to be sponsored, actually, and he signed up to take a family.”

“It was obviously a mistake,” Paisley says. “He didn't need to be sponsored.”

“Wait a second.” Addy's eyes widen. “If someone thought he needed to be sponsored. . . Does he have kids?”

They all know that's a deal breaker for me.

I sigh melodramatically. “He's a master electrician and runs big jobs, like the Citibank building construction downtown that's just finishing up. But he travels for work, so he and, yes, his two kids, live in a travel trailer, which is why a well- intentioned lady from his church thought he needed some help.”

I brace myself, ready for the barrage of criticism. I know they mean well, so I'll deal with it.

No one says a word.

I was ready for jokes, good-natured criticism, or even chastising. But silence? Do they think he sounds that awful?

“His kids are actually kind of cute,” I say.

“You think everyone's kids are cute,” Trudy says. “Even Troy, and he's a nightmare.”

I pat her hand. “Troy's not a nightmare. He's high spirited.” And probably not disciplined quite as much as he should be, but that doesn't seem helpful to say.

“You don't want kids. Ever,” Addy says, unhelpfully.

“No, I know that,” I say, “but the thing is—”

“Wow, if you're considering him even though he has kids?” Paisley smiles smugly. “You're smitten. Like a little baby cat. You're a smitten kitten.”

I shake my head. “No, it's not like that Pais. I already told you, he's moving in like three weeks or something. So it doesn't matter. I can like him, and interact with his kids, and it can't go anywhere.”

Trudy's fingers grip my free hand hard. “Where's he moving to next? Because you can't leave.” Panic floods her voice and her eyes stare at me wildly. “I need you. Troy and me, we both need you.”

I squeeze her hand back. “I'm not leaving, Trudy. I promise. He's leaving for Kentucky, and I won't be going with him. I'll be here for you no matter what. I always will.”

“Today you went shopping with him and his kids?” Addy asks. “Like all day long?”

“Nah, only part of the day. I went over after lunch, and we did Sub-for-Santa shopping, and then we got dinner.”

“Where'd you go?” Paisley asks. “Somewhere good?”

I toss my hair. “We had the two kids with us, so we went to Chuck-e-Cheese.”

Addy laughs. “Oh man, you must really like him.”

I suppress my grin, because she's right. I do, probably way, way too much.

“All his daughter wants for Christmas is a puppy,” I say, “and she can't have one because they live in a trailer. It's too hard to have a dog when you travel so much, and they just don't have the space. And you guys, I saw some kind of puppy adoption event on my way back home today. I actually stopped in and looked at the puppies. I know it sounds crazy, but when I saw the SPCA sign, it felt like, I don't know, like maybe it was some kind of divine message or something.”

Silence again.

“Okay guys, say something.”

Paisley shakes her head slowly, which I can barely see out of the corner of my eye. “Girl, I don't know what to say. We've wanted you to find someone for forever, but.”

“This all sounds pretty crazy to me, too.” Trudy's eyes won't meet mine.

I pull into the parking lot behind our favorite nightclub. Flare's music is always good, and they don't allow cigarettes anywhere on premises. Which is kind of funny, since the name sounds like a place that would be all about flames.

“We're here,” I say.

“Yep,” Trudy says. “We are.”