I never imagined I would end up here. Living with a drug dealer and a pothead. I had a good life, once upon a time, and it felt like a fairy-tale. Not anymore. That’s all in the past. I don’t live anymore. I just exist.
I need a fresh start. Anything, really. I’d even settle for better roommates. That’s the first call I have to make. Our lease is coming up, and while it will be tough to swing my share of the rent, I responded to an ad for a roommate in a much better part of town.
“Hello, this is Catriona Phillips. I called you yesterday about your ad for a roommate?” I sit down on my bed. “Oh, you already found someone. Okay, thank you.”
Another dead end. Just like my life.
My next call is to my mother. The conversation is fairly brief. We don’t have a lot to say to each other these days. There was a time when we would have spent hours talking about things we wanted to buy, my plans for college, and how we were going to gang up on my father so that he would take us to whatever exotic location we wanted to go on vacation.
Those days are long behind us.
After talking to my mother, I reach for my laptop and fight to get it connected to our neighbor’s Wi-Fi. He’s generous enough to leave it open so others can use it. I wish everyone were as nice as him. I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep leeching it. My laptop seems to be on its last legs, and it will be a while before I can afford a new one.
“Oh wow.” I stare at an email in my inbox, and it feels like the wind is sucked out my chest immediately.
I have an email from a woman named Holly Huckleberry. I’m scared to click on it. One night, after spending a little too long in the living room in the middle of Laura’s bong haze and drinking some cheap wine that Gina brought home, I signed up for a Mail-Order Brides service.
I never expected to get a reply. I thought it was some kind of joke, but I felt like I was as close to rock bottom as I could get.
It’s gotten worse since then.
“This is crazy…” I click the email and start reading it.
It might have seemed like a joke when I signed up for it, but Holly’s response isn’t. She’s found a match for me. A woman in a town called Snow Valley has six sons who aren’t married, and Holly believes I’m a perfect match for one of them.
A guy named Nate. He’s a mechanic, well, he owns the mechanic’s shop in Snow Valley. He’s twenty-nine. Nine years older than me. His mother describes him as a bit rough around the edges, but a genuine sweetheart once you get to know him.
I fall back on my bed and stare at the crack in my ceiling. Sometimes I have nightmares that a million roaches or spiders are going to crawl out of that crack while I’m sleeping.
My father used to always say that life is a trajectory, and if you’re doing it right, it’s always an upward trajectory. Mine used to be headed that way. Before my father lost everything. Before the guy I was supposed to marry called off the engagement. He never said he was with me because of my father’s money, but the timing sure was suspect.
My trajectory has been firmly pointed toward the ground since then.
Maybe this is how I change it.
I sit up and begin responding to the email. I could slave away in that diner for years and never get my feet under me. I’m sure they have a diner in Snow Valley. I need a fresh start anyway, and if things don’t work out with Nate, a quiet little town would be a whole lot better than this place. Who knows, maybe this is the trajectory my life needs right now.
The instructions from Holly Huckleberry say that if I sign the agreement, all I have to do is get on a plane and everything else will be taken care of. That sure does sound nice.
Nate
Theminutestickaway.A woman is going to be appearing on my doorstep today, but I’m not sure exactly when she will arrive. My mom tried to show me a picture, but I decided that I didn’t want to judge her before I got a chance to see her with my own eyes. Looks aren’t everything. It doesn’t matter how pretty someone is if they are a raging bitch. I found that out the hard way. I know my mom put a lot of thought into it and chose someone that she believes will be a perfect match for me.
Internally, I’m still struggling with it all. It still seems like insanity. I’ve just decided to let it play out and see what happens. Like my dad said, she’s coming, and if I don’t open the door, I’m going to have to leave her standing on the porch.
I don’t think I could do that to anyone, even if a few people in this town think I’ve got a mean streak big enough to do it. There are a few guys I’ve tangled with at my brother’s pub that would testify to it, and I’ve worn handcuffs after a few of those brawls.
I’m somewhat curious to find out what kind of girl my mom picked out for the self-proclaimed black sheep of the Mistletoe family.
Time continues to pass. I start to wonder if my potential bride-to-be will even show up. After all, what woman in her right mind agrees to be a mail-order bride in the first place? She’s had plenty of time to change her mind, just like I had plenty of time to warm up to the idea. I’m still somewhat bitter about being put in the situation, but I may be even more bitter about the whole ordeal if I end up sitting here like a fool all day.
As if on cue, I hear a car outside. My pulse begins to race. I made sure everyone knew not to disturb me today. If there’s a car outside my house, there’s only one logical explanation.
Catriona is here.
I walk to the door and hear soft footsteps in the gravel outside. I want to peek out the window, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I wait with my hand on the doorknob and open it as soon as I hear a knock.
She’s gorgeous. Curly blonde hair, gray eyes that look like the calming sky after a winter storm rolls through Snow Valley, and I say her name like a soft exhale. “You must be Catriona.”
