And before I know it, my thoughts are so caught up on Angel, when I get into downtown Bliss, I find myself heading south towards her house rather north towards mine.
I’ll just drive by,I tell myself. See how the lights look. With the sun just starting to dip below the horizon, they’re probably on. I’ll be able to see if they’re as impressive as Angel had hoped.
If I hadn’t thought it would make things weird, I would have actually offered to put up more. I could have lined the edges of the roof with lights, and the big maple tree would look nice all decked out, too. I bet some of those stake lights I’ve seen at the hardware store would look nice along the narrow path leading to the front door. And if we really wanted to go all out, one of thoseblow-mold Santas with his sleigh and reindeer would probably look great on the porch roof.
Not that it matters to me what Angel’s house looks like. But I bet Haley would get a kick out of it.
I catch myself smiling in the rear view mirror as I remember Haley’s reaction when I finished with the lights the other night. Angel made her come out of the house with her eyes closed, and when she opened them, she actually shrieked with excitement. Then she hugged me, which was unexpected but nice, and Angel looked so beautiful when she smiled and thanked me…
The whole thing was nice. Really nice.
And maybe I shouldn’t just drive by. Maybe I should stop. Say hi.
I mean, it would be rude not to, wouldn’t it?
Who are you kidding?my inner voice of reason asks.If you just drive by, Angel wouldn’t know. It would only be rude if she saw you.
Iwould know,I reason.AndIwould think it was rude.
So I’m stopping. Decision made. I’ll just say I was headed home from GMG—which is true—and wanted to make sure the lights were all working. Which is also true.
Unless, I consider as I turn onto Angel’s street, she’s at work. I know Angel works primarily lunch shifts, but I’ve definitely seen her at Blissful Brews in the evening before. So it’s possible she’s there, and this whole detour is for nothing.
Oh really?the reasoning voice asks wryly.Because you can look at the lights without Angel being home. Unless you’re stopping for another reason you’re not willing to admit to.
Fortunately, I don’t have time to get into that sticky question because Angelishome. I spot her and Haley in the front yard from a few houses down, Angel in her bright pink jacket and Haley in a vivid blue one. They’re doing something in the snow—maybe making a snow fort?—and my curiosity is piqued as I pull to a stop in front of their house.
Haley notices me first, and she waves at me with both arms, nearly smacking Angel in the chin. A moment later, Angel turns. Surprise quickly shifts to pleasure as she sees me.
I shift the car into park and turn the ignition off, but before I can even get out of the car, Haley is racing over. “Ronan!” she shouts. “You’re here!”
Angel drops the shovel she’s holding—they’re making some kind of hill, it looks like—and hurries after her. “Haley Jean Nilsson,” Angel calls, “you do not go running towards the road like that. I don’t carewhoit is.”
Haley pulls to a stop and makes this hilarious face that clearly says she thinks her mom is being far too protective, but she’s going to humor her anyway. But by then I’ve closed the distance between myself and Haley and Angel, so the issue is moot.
“Ronan!” Haley beams at me. “You’re back! Are you here to help us again?”
I glance at the pile of snow near the front porch in confusion. “Help with what? Was the snow blocking something?”
Angel joins Haley and rests her hand on her shoulder. Then she smiles at me. “Hey, Ronan. How are you?”
My heart does a quick somersault in my chest. “I’m good. How are you?” I don’t want to say anything about her fall off the ladder around Haley, so I add, “Feeling alright?”
I did give Angel my phone number before I left the other day, for the record. “In case you start feeling badly,” I explained. “Or if something doesn’t feel right, and you’re worried.”
But she didn’t call. Or text. So I assumed she was okay. But now that I’m standing here, I feel like kind of an asshole for not following up, anyway.
“I’m good,” Angel replies. Her smile brightens. “And the lights look gorgeous. Don’t they?” She tilts her head towards the house, where the multi-colored lights are softly glowing. “They look even nicer when it’s completely dark.”
“Are you back for more cookies?” Haley asks. Then she stops and looks at her mom. “Sorry. Was that interrupting? I waited until you finished your sentence.”
Angel laughs. “No, it wasn’t interrupting. But I doubt Ronan is back for more cookies. He’s probably just on his way through town.”
Something about the way she immediately assumes I wouldn’t come to visit her has me saying, “Actually, I came to see how you were doing. And to check out the lights.”
“Oh.” Angel’s expression brightens. “Well. I’m glad you did. Would you like more cookies? Or something to drink?”
“Or he could help with the ski hill,” Haley suggests. “He’s got lots of muscles. So I bet it would go way faster.”
