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“It’s probably Jocelyn coming to grab dinner before her next hair appointment,” Brie says, mentioning our mutual high school friend. “She and Gabby are my roommates. Jocelyn is notorious for forgetting her keys, and I must’ve locked the door without thinking.” Before Brie can even stand, the door opens by itself. It’s not Jocelyn.
Brie’s mom is standing there. And, gulp, so is mine.
“Rock?” Mom gasps. “What are you doing here?”
I shouldn’t have waited until later tonight to tell my mom I’m in town. And worse, I’m sitting on the floor next to Brie in a mountain of wrapping paper with the pink frilly apron I forgot to take off and a meal wafting from the oven, which looks suspiciously like one of two things. Either I have suddenly given up my day job to be a homemaker, or Brie and I are dating. I can see the ideas blossoming in Mom’s startled eyes. I’m ninety percent sure she believes the latter when she suddenly smiles.
And with her overly hopeful grin, my carefully built boundaries are under attack.
Chapter 5
Brie
Rockwellmusthaveforgottento put romance on his Christmas list this year along with everything else holiday related. Yes, I’m converted to believing everyone should make Christmas lists. I don’t know why I ever doubted them.
I sink into the chair behind my desk, but instead of digging into my lunch, I relive what happened last night again. Part of me is dreaming of good old Christmas magic rekindling an old flame. The other part of me remembers I’m an adult living in the real world. Any sparks flying over Rockwell during dinner last night were squashed the second his mother saw us together. Why did she and my mom have to pick that particular moment to drop off the town committee’s Wassail Night flyers for the school?
“Earth to Brie!”
My hand drops from under my jaw, and I look up from my desk to see Gabby waving her hands in front of me. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I noticed. When you didn’t come to the lounge to eat your lunch, I decided to check on you.”
I lift up my Tupperware with my slice of leftover lasagna. “I wanted to get everything set out for our craft this afternoon, so I’m multitasking.”
“You seemed a little lost in your head. Anything happen with Rockwell last night? Did you ask him out?”
“Sort of? We made dinner together.”
“Wow.” Gabby’s eyes light up. “I am so proud right now. I didn’t think you’d actually follow through.”
I shake my head, poking my lunch with my fork. “It wasn’t anything like a date. I made him wrap my students’ presents with me.”
“Okay, that’s sweet.”
“It was and we had a good time—at first. He’s nothing like I remember him being. Except his voice, and his eyes . . .” He has this way of making me feel like he’s watching me and approving of what he sees. It makes no sense, and the approving part has got to be my overactive imagination. “Anyway, I don’t think we are weirdly fated to date again or our moms wouldn’t have come over the second he started to relax.”
“No way. Your moms?” Gabby laughs. “Sorry, but what are the odds?”
“I’m not creative enough to make this up. Not to mention he hadn’t told his mom yet that he was in town. Luckily, Sandy was so happy to see him, she forgave me for harboring her son.”
Gabby winced. “Dang. I can’t think of a better way to kill any romance vibes—or not romance vibes. Whatever it is, moms will kill it.”
“You’re telling me. Our moms didn’t stay long, but there were some awkward,we’ll talk latercomments, and some not too conspicuous winks. Rockwell stayed for a piece of lasagna, but he ate it in three bites and was long gone. I have a whole half-pan of leftovers at home.”
“Relax, he didn’t leave town, did he?”
“I don’t think so. His car was still there when I left for school this morning.”
“Then there’s still time.”
“For what? Me to stare into his window again like a creepy old lady?”
“There’s still time to get over him properly. Wait, old ladies stare through windows? And did you sayagain? When was the first time?”
“Never mind. I’m pretty sure this is life taunting me. The candy cane of my dreams landed right in my hands, but the dumb plastic is so tight I can’t get at it.”
Gabby seems disturbed by my analogy, but she didn’t have to tie a couple dozen candy canes to presents last night. It’s the only analogy subject I am capable of at the moment.
