“Call me when you’re ready to talk,” I say. “And call me even if you’renotready to talk but you need help. I can bring more groceries or medicine or whatever you need, no questions asked. And…and tell Rex…” I stop, my throat closing around the words.
“I will,” Liam says quickly. “I’d never keep you two from each other, Joss, no matter what happens between us.”
I’m barely able to meet his eyes for fear I’ll lose what little composure I have left, so I simply nod. I’ve made it halfway down the porch steps when he says, “Drive safe, Joss. The plow hasn’t been by yet and the roads are probably icy.”
I continue down the stairs, raising a hand to acknowledge I heard him. I’m pretty sure we just broke up—as much as you can break up when you’re not officially together—but even now he’s concerned for my safety and well being. That, as much as anything, makes me want to let loose the tears I’m holding back. And makes me want to take a machete to the strings holding me to Honeywell.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
When I left Liam’s place a few days ago, I was tempted to turn for the road out of town instead of Cherry Lane. There was a huge part of me that wanted to put Honeywell Hollow in my rearview mirror. I couldn’t do that to Mae and Rex, though. Or to Liam, despite what happened. Running away would have cemented in his mind that he was right about me, and I didn’t want him thinking for a minute it was easy for me to leave this town or the people I’ve grown to love. Him included.
So I went home, and that’s where I’ve been for the last several days. I’ve convinced myself it’s a quarantine of sorts; I feel fine, but I don’t want to spread germs around, especially this close to Christmas. The solitude I came to Honeywell for isn’t as wonderful as I expected it to be, but that’s likely because I know what I’m missing now. I’ve spoken to Rex and Mae on the phone—my heart dropped into my stomach the first time Rex called me and Liam’s number flashed across my screen—but mostly I’ve been using this time to think.
And, as usual, once I started thinking—about my past, present, and future—my brain wouldn’t shut off.
I stayed in a loveless marriage for too long because it was safe and familiar. I’ve coasted along in my career for too long, taking roles I’ve enjoyed with people I’ve (mostly) genuinely liked, but I can’t remember the last project that truly excited me. I came to Honeywell to ‘figure some things out’, thinking I’d learn to enjoy my own company again, ponder my career, and maybe take up a hobby. Love wasnoton the agenda. My desire to be a temporary hermit was smashed to smithereens almost immediately and now here I am, attached to this town and its people.
I’m basically the heroine from one of my own movies. I’m the closed-off Scrooge of a woman who flees from her life in an attempt to escape the holidays and the pressures of reality only to discover everything she’s been missing in a quaint small town. I’ve played this role a dozen times—it’s what earned me the Queen of Christmas title. But it turns out reality is a million times better than any fiction.
In my movies, this would be called the ‘black moment’. The couple has a blow-up or there’s some obstacle keeping them apart. Of course, being short and sweet movies, the problem is usually resolved within minutes, sometimes with a grand gesture and sometimes with the characters having a revelation. The CEO who wants to build a strip mall where the Christmas tree farm is realizes the error of her ways and convinces her company to build elsewhere. The grouchy Christmas-hating single dad recognizes the importance of family, love, and the festive spirit, and goes all out to make the holidays extra special.
So if this is my black moment, it’s time for this Scrooge to come up with a plan. I need to prove to Liam that being in Honeywell is more than just ‘playing house’ for me, more than a blip on the timeline of my life. He was right when he said we had something special and could be amazing together. Now I have to hope he still feels that way.
I’ve learned my own strength and worth over these past few weeks, so whether Liam decides he wants to pursue a relationship or not, I know one thing: he was right about Honeywell being my home. Whatever happens between us, I’m going to find a way to make this town a permanent part of my story.
How I plan to do that involves Natalie, Selma Melissa Graham, and the Pascal sisters. The filmmakers literally rewrote their script with me in mind; I think it’s safe to say they’ll be willing to work with any requests I may have.
*****
“Were you ever planning to tell me you’re doing a press conference with Selma, or was I meant to find out with the rest of the world when it aired?”
Since Nat and I are on a video chat, I make sure to give my eyes an overexaggerated roll at her theatrics. “I’m telling you now, aren’t I, Natalie? It’s not my fault I haven’t been able to get a hold of you. And Ididhave my people call your people…”
Natalie throws her head back and laughs. “You did, you did. So I understand I’ll be seeing Honeycreek in person sooner than expected? Can’t you come to Toronto for the interview?”
“It wouldn’t work,” I tell her. “Ithasto be here. It’s a long story, but you and Selma will both be here soon, and I’ll tell you then.”
Nat purses her lips, which I recognize as an attempt to hold back an argument. Finally, she asks, “Does this have anything to do with the hot handyman you’ve been seeing?”
I swallow a sigh at the mention of Liam. I haven’t seen or heard from him since the day I left his house. When I first arrived in Honeywell I couldn’t go anywhere without running into him, but now he’s nowhere to be found. I’ve wanted to call him or drop by his place countless times, but I ultimately decided to give him the space he clearly needs. That hasn’t stopped me from asking Nathan and Mae about him every time I’ve talked to them, though.
“Yes,” I tell Nat. “But not only him. This is formetoo. And for Honeywell. I promise I’ll explain everything when you get here and it’ll be worth coming all this way.”
Nat’s eyes narrow at the screen, giving me the sense she’s scrutinizing my face. I expect another joke or a string of rapid-fire questions. Instead, she gives a decisive nod. “Okay, Joss. I’ll be there. You can count on me for whatever it is you have planned.”
*****
The clicking of camera shutters greets me as I climb out of my car. A small crowd has already gathered, some of them with professional cameras and video cameras, and some with cell phones. I smile and wave as they follow me down the sidewalk, firing questions and comments at me.
“How do you feel about Alan’s engagement so soon after your divorce?”
“Do you have anything to say to Alan and his new fiancée?”
“What are you doing in a place like Honeywell Hollow?”
“Is it true you’ve called Selma Melissa Graham here to finally bury the hatchet?”
“Give ussomething, Josslyn. You must have something big planned to call the media here just days before Christmas.”
