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But when it chimes again, she tells me, “You should check that.I’m a mom.It totally sets me off if a phone is ignored, you know.”
“Well, only if you insist.”I slide it out of my pocket and frown when I see Freya’s text.
“Bad news?”she asks.
“You have no idea,” I grumble.“It’s from Freya.I’m seeing her on Christmas.”I glance her way and notice she looks slightly hurt.A light goes off in my head.I’m such an idiot.“Freya is Mason’s wife.”
There’s relief in her eyes.“Oh!The same one who asked you to take a picture with a snowman?”
“That’s the one.”
“And she’s sending you bad news?”
“The worst.She’s got this bad habit of setting people up.”I frown as I read Freya’s text to her.“If you’re not bringing anyone to the dinner on Christmas, I’ve got a single friend I’d love to invite.You’d like her.”
Wincing slightly, Ava laughs.
My eyes widen.“You’relaughing?This isbad.”
“This isfunny.”
I slide my phone back into my pocket.“Easy for you to say.You’ve got plans on Christmas that probably don’t involve a set-up.”
She snorts a little.“Well, most of the day I’ll probably be nursing a bottle of spiked egg nog as I eat Stouffer’s Mac and Cheese.”
I stop.“I thought you said you had plans for Christmas.”
Her brow furrows in question.
“When I was at your house for dinner,” I clarify.“You told Nicholas you had plans.”
Recollection lights her eyes.“Oh, I just said that because I didn’t want Nicholas to think I’d be alone on Christmas.He’s hit that age when he worries about me sometimes.”
I feel a spark of hope.“Well, I can make an honest woman out of you,” I suggest.“Come with me to Mason’s for Christmas dinner and you won’t be stuck lying to your son.”
She tucks her chin toward her chest.“You want me to go to your friends’ house with you?”
“You’d be doing me a huge favor if you did.”
She presses her lips together and seems to be fighting a smile.I can’t help wondering why.
“I’d love to,” she answers.
“Hot damn,” I say, pulling my phone out of my pocket again and tapping in the words, “Actually I was going to bring Ava along.Is that OK?”
Freya’s reply comes in lightning-quick.
“Of course!” she writes.But my smile fades when she follows it up with, “Would you mind bringing something homemade for dessert?”
Homemade?Did she forget I’m a single guy who is infamous for burning toast?
“How about something from a bakery?” I write back.
“Would really prefer homemade.Like maybe a pecan pie or gingerbread,” she replies insistently.
“What’s wrong now?”Ava asks.
“She’s wondering if I can bring something homemade for dessert, but I can’t bake to save my life.”
