Page 30 of Snowed

“Where to?”

“One twenty-five Liberty Street. Hoboken. And if you step on it and get me there before eleven, I’ll pay you double.”

CHAPTER 6

Joy

“Well, I certainly can’t blame you for picking him.” My grandmother handed me back my phone.

We were in our own corner of the living room at my parents’ holiday party. I’d just finished showing Grandma some of the doctored photos Nolan had been posting after telling her the story of my holiday-card fiasco. Grandma and I had a very honest relationship, and she was the only person here I felt comfortable admitting everything to.

“Why did you stop responding to him?” she asked. “Seems like he’s been trying hard to get your attention.”

I sighed. “I feel like he’s just having fun and is not really interested in more with me. Plus, he’s dating someone else. So why bother entertaining anything when I’ll only end up disappointed?” I shook my head. “I regret even starting this whole thing.”

My grandmother sipped her spiked eggnog. “You know, before I lost your granddad, I always thought I’d need a man to be happy. And while I miss him like crazy, I wouldn’t dream of dealing with anyone else now. I’m happy being by myself, enjoying my life without having to answer to anyone. I know you’re in a much different place than an eighty-year-old woman, but one day, maybe after you have kids and a family of your own, you might look back at this time in your life and miss the independence. So make the most of it. Be proud of it.” She lifted her cup in a salute. “Screw these guys.” She chuckled. “Okay, maybe only Davis. Fuck Davis. The other one seems to be funny and a sweetheart.”

I cackled. When my grandmother said the F-word, you knew it was serious. Grandma had never liked my ex, never believed he was good enough for me. He was, in her words, “a tool.” Her feelings had only escalated when she’d found out he was dating someone from the office. Her advice tonight, though, had shed light on the reality of the situation. Being attached to someone else isn’t what gives a person value. And you don’t need to rely on another person to find happiness.

“You’re so right. I’m a successful woman. I’m healthy. I don’t have to lie about my life to make it seem better—not to Davis or to anyone else. As long as I’m happy, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

“Learning not to give a fuck comes with age, baby. It’s okay if you make mistakes along the way. You’re still young.”

“Thanks for the kick in the ass, Grandma.” I lifted my eggnog. “Fuck Davis!”

My grandmother and I were both laughing when my phone chimed a moment later.

Davis: Merry Christmas. Hope you’re having a good night. Tell Nolan I said hello.

I cracked up again. He must’ve sensed us talking about him.

I couldn’t type fast enough.

Joy: Merry Christmas! Nolan and I broke up.

The three dots moved around as he responded.

Davis: Gosh. Really? At Christmas time, too. I’m so sorry to hear that.

Joy: Don’t be sorry. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. That’s been the case ever since our breakup, to be honest. Don’t take it personally. I’m happy you’re happy now too. Everything has happened the way it was meant to.

Davis: Well, I’m glad for you then.

Joy: You have a good Christmas Eve with Hailey.

Davis: Thank you. You have a good one as well.

It felt so freeing to have “broken up” with Nolan, thus ridding myself of the lie I’d created.

There was only one problem. While I now realized I no longer needed a boyfriend for appearances, I did miss talking to Nolan for no other reason than he made me smile. And he certainly wasn’t bad to look at, either. I wished he and I had met under different circumstances. It would’ve also been nice if he weren’t dating someone.

But it was Christmas Eve, and I didn’t want to spend the rest of this night looking back at all of the things I regretted in the past year. I vowed to do better in the new year and truly embrace the freedom I had now to do whatever I wanted. Go wherever I wanted. Maybe a cat café in Tokyo—but for real this time. The world was my oyster!

Later, I was preparing a plate of food for myself at the buffet table when I heard a commotion over by the front door.

The next thing I knew, my grandmother came traipsing toward me in her ugly Christmas sweater holding a handsome man’s hand. Not any man. My man. Well, my fake man.

Oh my God.