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It’s time to u
p my game.
Adam used to work as a bartender at a couple of bars. Google tells me one closed down a year ago. The other won’t open until eleven, but I write down the phone number.
I also text a sort-of friend who used to date one of Adam’s friends. It’s a long shot, but at this point I’ll do anything to get hold of him.
And to put off getting hold of Colin.
Which makes two guys I’m trying not to think about: Colin Austin, dumper to my heartbroken dumpee of yesteryear, and Mark Blakely, best friend who’s not acting like it.
Yeah, yeah, I’m being kind of a baby, but a good night’s sleep has only served to make me more annoyed about him.
I’m not saying he has to believe that my future is written in the stars, but as my friend, shouldn’t he at least respect that I believe it?
I mean, I don’t really get off on saffron, but I still listen patiently as he explains its versatility. I don’t care about the different kinds of salt, but I still pick up fancy sea salts from Manhattan for him, don’t I?
It’s what friends do—support each other, even if one must gently (gently!) roll one’s eyes while doing so. Heck, maybe it’s his crappy attitude that’s making me cynical about how all this will work out. And believe me, no one’s ever used the term “cynical” to describe me.
The coffeemaker beeps, and I pour myself a cup, adding a liberal splash of my sugar-free peppermint mocha creamer, and then walk to the back door, where Rigby does an impatient need-to-attend-to-business prance.
“All right,” I say, pushing the door open. “But remember that you hate the snow.”
Sure enough, the dog bounds outside, only to come to an instant halt and look around him as though the universe itself has betrayed him.
He gives me a sad look over his shoulder before trudging through the snow, which is already up to his shoulders, to do his business under a tree, where there’s at least partial protection from the storm.
A gust of wind blows snow right at my face, and after a startled squeak, I let out a delighted laugh, as I finally realize what we’re dealing with here.
Snow just a few days before Christmas? This is what holiday vacation dreams are made of!
Even better if it’s cleared up by the twenty-third, in time for the Haven holiday parade.
Did I tell you? I ordered an elf costume online, after verifying with my old English teacher, who’s now parade master, that they would in fact love to have me on the float handing out candy.
And now you’re like, That’s great, Kelly, but how does that fit in with your plan to win over your exes?
Well, let me tell you. In my fantasy, Colin comes into town that very day because he’s been thinking of me. He’s already realized he’s still in love with me, but seeing me adorable in a sassy elf costume seals the deal. He can’t help but propose in front of the entire town. Fortune-teller lady was right, and Mark was oh so wrong.
See? It’s a beautiful fantasy.
I squint to see if Rigby’s coming back my way, but as I sort of expected, the dog does his post-poop moonwalk and then takes off at a sprint toward Mark’s back door.
I tell myself that I linger at my own door only so that I can verify that Rigby’s not left out in the blizzard, not because I want to know if Mark is awake.
He’s awake.
Through the white blur, I see his back door open just a crack, but it closes just as quickly.
Fine, then.
Refusing to let my irritable best friend ruin today like he did yesterday, I go to my iPhone, scrolling through my playlists until I find my Winter Wonderland playlist, which is pretty much every variation you can imagine of “Let It Snow,” “Winter Wonderland,” and “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.” I hum along with all three as I make myself an elaborate breakfast of…cornflakes.
As I pour the milk, I allow a quick, wistful glance out the window toward Mark’s house. Bet he’s having pancakes. And bacon. Bet he’d put chocolate chips in the pancakes if I ask.
I look away.
Taking my cereal and coffee into the living room, I plop on the couch and turn on the TV to the Hallmark Channel, delighted when it’s one of their Christmas movies I haven’t seen yet.
