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The Holiday House Swap

Page 66

by Lauren Appelbaum

Not that flying back to her home across the country wasn’t a real reason.

Miserable, Arden stared at her phone. It was out of arm’s reach so she wouldn’t keep checking it. Not that there was anything to check. She hadn’t received so much as an email.

She had sort of thought that Sam might text her to ask if everything was okay. But maybe he hadn’t even realized anything was amiss. Maybe she’d iced him out in her head, but he hadn’t noticed that she was acting any different. Maybe he didn’t know her that well after all. In which case… fine. It didn’t really matter, did it? Arden needed to let go of him, of this thing they were doing, and it was none of her business how Sam felt about any of it.

So she would focus on her list. What did she, Arden, want to do? After a moment of feeling sorry for herself, she decided to cross Elliott Bay Book Company off the list. She would need a new book to read after finishing the memoir, and it was a pleasant enough way to pass the afternoon.

A short bus ride later, she entered the shop. The internet had told her it was one of Seattle’s most famous bookstores, and it did not disappoint. It was packed full of cheerfully rickety bookshelves, crammed with books of all different genres.

Arden paused to examine a table of new fiction. When she looked up, there was a man wearing a blue beanie with his back to her, examining the books on the next table. Her heart skipped. But a moment later, he turned, revealing a face that was very much not Sam Keller’s.

You’re being silly, she told herself. He’s still at work across town.

But as she gravitated toward the romance section near the back of the store, skimming covers that promised true love and happy endings, Arden had to admit that she wanted to see Sam again. Just one last time. To say goodbye.

She didn’t want their—whatever this was—to simply fade away after a lackluster date at a museum. She wanted to end it right. It had started with a memory that she would cherish forever, and she wanted it to end the same way.

She bought a romance and a thriller by one of her favorite authors—hey, she liked what she liked—and sat in the café to send a message to Sam.

Arden: Can we meet up when you’re done with work?

She idly watched people in the café come and go, waiting for a response.

What if he just never responded? Would she text again, or call him, or would that be the end of that?

After a very long five minutes, he finally replied.

Sam: Sure. Want me to meet you at Phoebe’s?

Arden: Actually, is your place okay?

She felt weird inviting herself over, but she wanted to be able to leave after she’d said what she needed to say.

Sam texted her his address and said he’d be home by five.

When five o’clock rolled around, Arden stepped onto the sidewalk outside Phoebe’s building. It was pitch-black outside. The beautiful day had been short-lived. She shivered, pulled up the collar of her coat, and walked the two blocks to Sam’s apartment.

He buzzed her in, and she took the elevator to the third floor. Normally, she would have taken the stairs, but she didn’t want to risk getting sweaty. She had showered, blow-dried her hair, and carefully applied some barely-there makeup. She’d read enough magazines in her adolescence to know that, whenever possible, you should always look your best for a breakup.

She sighed heavily as she rang Sam’s doorbell. If only the circumstances were different. It was beyond strange to be in the position of breaking up with someone she was barely dating and whom she would have preferred to keep dating if it had been possible.

But it wasn’t possible. And for all she knew, she was taking this way too seriously. She and Sam had never defined this thing they were doing.

“Hey!” Sam beamed at her. He looked so happy, it made her slightly dizzy. Clearly, they were not on the same page. Yet again.

“Hi.” She offered a tentative smile as he waved her inside. “Nice place.”

He gallantly took her coat and hung it in the small coat closet. “Thanks. I live with Alex—you remember them from the Hanukkah party. But they won’t be home until later.”

Arden glanced around the space. It was clearly an older building, with quaint crown molding, and windows rippled with thick, aging glass. Sam and Alex had decorated the living room in a mishmash of colors and styles—a pair of plaid sofas, a red-and-blue Persian rug, brown curtains, and an eclectic art collection on the walls. It was so different from Phoebe’s apartment, but the effect was cozy.

“You live with your sibling?”

“Alex shared their last apartment with their ex. When they broke up, I offered up my spare bedroom. It worked out well for both of us, because I don’t love being alone.” Sam half laughed.

Arden turned to look at him fully for the first time since arriving. He had changed into a pair of slouchy black sweatpants and a maroon band T-shirt. He looked so soft and huggable, Arden had to resist the urge to do just that.

Maybe, said a sly voice in her head, one last hookup for the road? To say goodbye?