“That wasn’t her goal,” I say. “She just wanted a fun place to hang out, and it was great for that. My goal is different.”
“You know I saw something about that book of yours,” Grammy says. There’s a smile in her voice.
“How?” I ask her. “Where?”
“One of the ladies on my morning show was talking about it,” she says fondly. “Unicorns at a space cadet school. I mean, what other book could it be? Sounds like a lot of kids really love it.”
“David called me yesterday,” I tell her. “He says it’s outselling any of their previous books.”
“Just like you knew it would,” Grammy says, and I can hear the smug little smile in her voice.
“I thought it might,” I allow modestly, but I’m secretly glad she believes in me so much.
“But you’re still miserable,” she says kindly. “So I suppose the trouble is that young man, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I sigh.
I could tell her it’s no big deal, or that we weren’t even really dating. But she knows me, and she knows when I’m heartbroken. I guess I didn’t need things to be official to get my heart smashed to bits.
“This should be one of the happiest days of your life,” she scolds, echoing the same thought that’s been bouncing around my head all day. “What’s the matter with him? Is he the type of man who can’t stand to see his partner succeed?”
“I don’t think so,” I say, surprised. I honestly hadn’t even thought about that. “He said it was because of Meg.”
“His daughter,” she says. “Well, I understand that it can be hard to date when you have children.”
“But that’s the worst part. I love Meg,” I admit. “And she hangs out here with me all the time, without her dad.”
“Maybe she likes you as a friend of her own,” Grammy suggested. “But she doesn’t want to share her dad with you, or you with her dad.”
“That could be right,” I say. Though a little voice in the back of my head says that Meg wanted there to be something between Roan and me.
“Is there any chance this means you can make it toFlorida for Christmas?” Grammy asks. “Or are you thinking the shop will be busy right through Christmas Eve?”
I open my mouth to answer her, but right at that moment music starts playing outside, loud enough that I can hear it in the shop.
“What in the world?” I say, heading for the nearest window.
That window happens to look out on the tree lot, where Roan is hosting his Thank You Party tonight. I knew he was planning on giving out free hot apple cider, gingerbread cookies, and little mistletoe bouquets. But I don’t remember anything about music.
“Can I call you back, Grammy?” I ask.
“You sure can, sweetheart,” she tells me. “Anytime.”
I put the phone on one of the bookcases and when I get to the window I’m surprised to see Roan strumming his guitar and singing for all he’s worth.
There are a bunch of people there, holding paper cups of cider, eating cookies, and staring at Roan like this is high entertainment.
I’m close enough now to recognize the song is “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.”
He stops strumming and gestures for me to open the window.
Against my better judgment, I relent and open it, letting in a blast of cold air.
“I’m sorry, Taylor,” he calls to me loudly. “I’m an idiot.”
“Yes,” I say sweetly. “You are.”
I move to close the window again as the people below smile and murmur to each other.
