“Yeah, Skye, the mob loves a paper trail.”
“Oh,” she deflates, “Right. But all these texts are a trail.”
“They change numbers and contacts. I never see or hear from the same person twice. Plus, I don’t care, give them all of it. I just need a little bit left to fix Gran’s place. Please, Skye, I just want it to be over.”
“Okay, girl, okay. We’re not giving them all of it but we will give them exactly what they asked for most recently. The remainder plus an extra 100K, which makes me sick but if I tell dad and we get our lawyers involved, which is what I want, it will become a whole thing in the press, then we’re in bed with the mafia and tied up in court—”
“No! No, I know and I don’t want any of that. That’s why I didn’t want anyone to know.”
“Okay, I get it.” She taps around on my phone for a while and eventually sits back. “There. Done.”
“Thank you,” I say, taking a sip of wine.
“What the hell is this that popped up? CalledThe Albumand it’s filled with Theo?”
“Exposure therapy,” I reply, my voice sounding as dead as I am starting to feel.
She considers what I said, “To get over Theo?”
“Yup, to remember that love sucks and men suck and I shouldn’t be fooled again. Ha! Didn’t work, did it?”
“Mmmmkay I’m going to go ahead and suggest you delete this. It’s time.”
“That’s fine. I don’t care. I want to sleep now.”
“You’re headed home in the morning, right? Want me to stay with you tonight?”
I sit back up, “Wait, Ben took his plane. How am I getting home?”
“We’ll take care of it. You go to sleep. I’m just down the hall and I’ll check in on you, okay?” I don’t sit back so she grabs my shoulder. “I’ve got you, Janie. The group text is already all over it.” My eyes go wide. “I just said Ben was called away and you need a ride. Don’t worry. Just sleep.”
“Alright.”
I lay back and ask God to knock me the hell out.
Thankfully, by some Christmas miracle, He listens.
45
JANIE
Bah freaking humbug.
I don’t know what’s worse, the tackiness of Juniper Falls as a grown adult or the absolute over-the-top cheerfulness of my tiny hometown as an adult who’s been dumped on her ass just in time for Christmas.
“It’s the latter.” I mutter to myself as I walk down Juniper Street. Everyone has their stores decked out from top to bottom, tourists are here, music is blaring from all directions. If I hear Merry Christmas one more time I’m going to scream. And not a cute startled scream I mean full on exorcist style, fists clenched and jaw unhinged, just unloading on the poor person who dares to greet me.
I chuckle, looking up to imagine it, then stomp my left foot into a deep puddle.
“Ugh, come ON!” I yell at the world. I pull my completely soaked boot out of the hole and carry on. At least now as I trudge over to see Harper I’ve got a stomp-squish-stomp-squish thing going on.
Perfect.
“Merry Christmas!”
Oh, it is ON.
I turn, inhaling, about to blow, but then I take in the most adorable elderly couple I’ve ever seen. They’re both sporting brand new red and green Juniper Falls scarves. Ben bought it before we went sledding and made sure he was photographed init. The petite Black woman is greeting me but her husband, a bit paler than her and taller than her, is still a very handsome man. He's looking at her so lovingly, I can’t do it.
