Page 83 of The Holiday House Swap

“Oh…” Renee made an exasperated tutting noise. “Hon, it’s not that simple.”

“What do you mean?”

“Marrying your dad gave me you. I would never change that even if I had a million do-overs.”

Arden smiled. She knew her mom loved her, obviously. And this didn’t exactly answer her question. But it was worth the phone call just to hear her say that.

“Thanks, Mom. But, like, would you tell your younger self to do it, knowing how it ended up?”

She paused, and Arden could hear the sizzle of something cooking on the stove.

“I would say that it was a learning experience that I needed in order to get where I was going. And your dad, I mean, we both know he isn’t perfect. But there was plenty to love about him at the time. Although now I know enough to look out for some red flags—or some green ones.”

“Like what?”

“I would look for someone who truly saw me. As a person, a person with my own mind, not just as someone to argue with. At first, he love bombed me, and then after the shine wore off, I was just someone for him to tolerate. I would tell you—I mean, my younger self—to find someone who can’t believe his luck that he gets to be with you. Because you shouldn’t be in the position of trying to convince a man of your worth. He should see it without you lifting a finger.”

Arden swallowed. She had never told her mom how she felt about Peter Blake, how she’d spent years trying to get him to notice her, but it felt like Renee knew. Or maybe it was a pattern Arden had unknowingly learned from her mom.

And then she remembered what Sam had said about how he couldn’t believe his luck on the day they’d met.

“Thanks, Mom. This was really helpful. I’m glad I called you.”

“Arden? What’s going on?”

Arden heard the smile in her own voice. “I’m not sure yet. But I’ll tell you if there’s anything to tell.”

She felt like she was in a dream as she got ready for The Nutcracker, pulling on the same dress she had worn to the Kellers’ Hanukkah party, running her brush through her hair, swiping on mascara, blush, and lip gloss.

Was she really going to do this?

She was only half decided. Because the truth was, she really didn’t want to miss The Nutcracker. That ticket had been expensive, and she’d been looking forward to seeing the ballet all week.

But this felt like a once-in-a-lifetime chance that she had to seize with both hands. The Nutcracker happened every year.

So, wrapped in her coat, hat pulled low over her ears, Arden stepped out of Phoebe’s building and, instead of turning right toward the theater, turned left. Toward Sam’s apartment building.

When she arrived, she had the unfortunate realization that she needed to call Sam on the intercom to buzz her inside. Luckily—Arden took this as a sign that she was on the right path—a woman was coming out of the building at that moment and held the door open.