Chapter One
I don t have a cold. I don t feel unwell. I m feverish with Christmas cheer, that s me in a nutshell. Oh, jingle bells, jingle bells...
THREE MONTHS LATER
Ivy
I started making up my own lyrics to Jingle Bells sixteen hours ago. The moment my throat felt a tickle. The minute my body rippled with a chill. The second I sneezed four times in a row.
No. I survived working thirteen weeks feeling like a zombie. I refuse to spend any part of this Christmas feeling sick. Because I m not sick. Exhaustipated perhaps, but not sick.
I sneeze, spraying the steering wheel of my Honda Civic with more exhaustipation as Mother Nature sprays its own form of sleety Christmas cheer on my windshield.
What day is this again? December twentieth? Pretty sure it s the twentieth. And what day am I supposed to get down to Bugle, Tennessee? The twenty-third? I should be alive by then.
You ve got this, I say in case my immune system needs a little encouragement to get through this final stretch on I-55 south. Springfield exit is coming right up, girl.
And if that s not enough of a pep talk, I crank up Brenda Lee s Rockin Around the Christmas Tree because that s surely a boost to anyone s immune system.
There we go, I say when Brenda sings about being jolly and boughs of holly through my car s speakers. That s the spirit, I mumble before taking another bite of the apple I ve been crunching on to keep me awake when the pep talks to my immune system aren t cutting it.
Almost to Yesenia s. You can make it.
Less than two minutes later, I m not sure I can make it. The spare bedroom in the apartment where my friend Yesenia lets me crash whenever I m passing through central Illinois feels so far away. And I feel so... so...
A semi blasts its horn.
Jolly! I adjust the steering wheel so I m back in the center of my lane, then slap my cheek a few times. Jolly, jolly, jolly, I murmur as the semi passes me on the left, kicking extra moisture onto my windshield.
And I am jolly. My last contract finally ended. No more night shift. Hallelujah.
Ah, to get back to a regular sleep schedule. Ah, to not have to worry about patients until January. Ah, to enjoy the magic of Christmas with family for once.
Not my family, of course. My family hasn t shared a magical Christmas together since.
.. well, ever. Which is one of the reasons Lucy demanded I spend Christmas with her family this year.
Girl, I get that you ve got this big life plan, but money isn t everything.
Take a break. Jingle some bells. Do a little fa-la-la-ing for once in your life.
What sort of attire is required for fa-la-la-ing? I meant to ask Lucy. Which reminds me... I tap my phone screen which is attached to the dashboard so I can switch over from Christmas music to a video messaging app. I m sure I ve got a thousand messages to catch up on by this point.
Lucy and I started a three-way video group chat with our friend Ella a few years ago when we discovered the best way for us to stay in touch considering our ever-changing schedules and my constant traveling—and the fact all three of us despise talking on the phone—is to send video messages that we can watch and respond to whenever we have time.
Unfortunately, I don t have a lot of time since I m always picking up extra shifts.
And when I do have the time I usually have to wade through dozens and dozens of messages where the two of them have gone back and forth with the intensity of a 60 Minutes episode about which candies are must-haves for road trips based on travel time and destination.
Nerds Gummy Clusters is top dog right now.
I think. Honestly, I can t say for certain.
I ve started skimming and skipping their conversations the moment anything candy-related is mentioned.
I have to. A few months back when they debated which Skittles color was superior, which then led to several more messages about which candies pull off the cherry flavor appropriately, I wanted to drive my car into a pole.
What can I say? I m just not a candy person.
To be fair, I m sure Lucy feels the same way whenever Ella and I get going on which Pride and Prejudice adaptation is the best.
I tap the most recent message. I ll catch up on all the previous messages later.
Lucy s face fills the screen and I m already smiling.
I love that face. She s the closest thing I have to a sister, though nobody would ever mistake us for sisters, that s for sure.
Lucy is all limbs with a good couple inches on me, whereas I m all hips and curves.
She pulls off an adorable pale-blonde pixie cut, whereas I ve never strayed from letting my wavy brown hair fall to the middle of my back.
Hey Ivy, hope you re still alive. My eyes remain on the road while Lucy s chirpy voice flows out of the speakers.
I m sure you ve been working like crazy because that s what you do.
Anyway, please check in with us. We haven t heard from you in for-ev-ver .
She says it the way the character Squints says it in the movie The Sandlot .
If I remember correctly your contract either ended yesterday or today, so maybe you re already headed to your friend s place in Springfield.
Or maybe you died weeks ago and nobody s found your body yet.
Really hoping it s the first because I ve got some super-exciting news to share with you that s going to affect our plans for Christmas.
Affect our plans? I glance at her smile, which has a slight wince to it now, before focusing back on the road.
So message me back as soon as you can. Love you. Oh, and Ella, that new brand of peppermint ice cream I told you I wanted to try? I ve already gone through two cartons. They really nailed the peppermint candies on this one.
I shake my head, then tap the screen, so it s recording me as I drive.
I keep my eyes glued to the road because, well, I m driving, but also because I don t want to see what my sleep-deprived face looks like right now on my phone screen.
I m here. I m alive. Just took the Springfield exit. Almost to Yesenia s apartment now.
I sneeze. And I m not sick. That was a tired sneeze, not a sick sneeze.
I ve gotten into this horrible rhythm these past couple months where I pretty much don t sleep for three or four days in a row, then I crash for forty-eight hours straight.
Right now I m due to crash. Not literally. I m still driving. I won t crash.
I squint past my rotating windshield wipers to read the street signs.
But just in case I do crash, better tell me your news now, Lucy.
Not your peppermint-ice-cream news. Your exiting news.
And Ella, I ve been meaning to ask if you ve seen that PBS is coming out with another series about Jane Austen. It looks so good.
I glance at the phone and see Lucy s name pop up at the top of the screen, which means she s listening to the start of my message. I m going to stop rambling, so she can catch up and share her news. Especially if the news has to do with Beau. Okay, looks like you re here, Lucy, so I m signing off.
I know Beau reached out to Lucy not long after I gave him her number back in September, but that s all I know.
When I texted Lucy to see what she thought about Beau, she sent back a message agreeing that he could be the one, but needed some time to figure out how to make it work.
I have no idea if she s figured it out yet because she hasn t whispered a word about him since.
And she s not whispering about him now either. When her face fills the entire screen, she s yelling. Guess who got engaged!
What? I glance back and forth between the road and my phone screen long enough to glimpse a diamond sparkling on her ring finger.
Her giggles flood through the car s speakers. Can you believe it?
No, I say, even though I know she can t hear me.
It s crazy, I know, she says, her voice ringing with giddiness. It just happened last night. He completely caught me off guard. I didn t expect it at all.
I can hardly keep up with her breathless rush of words.
His mom is already planning this big engagement party on New Year s Eve.
I m a little nervous because I ve only met his parents once, and now we ll be staying with them for—Oh my goodness, you guys.
My mom is going completely bonkers, blowing up my phone about dress fittings and color schemes.
She s called me six times today just about flowers, and now she s already calling again.
Let me call her back real quick. Hold on.
I drive in stunned silence until I m pulling into the parking lot of Yesenia s apartment building, a brick fourplex. Engaged? Lucy and Beau? That s so... so... great?
Yes. Great. Of course it s great. The only reason the news feels questionably great is because I m unquestionably tired. I sneeze and reach for another tissue.
Lucy, I say after I park the car and can safely leave a video message where I m peering straight into my phone camera.
Congratulations. I am so happy for you. And if I don t look happy, it s only because I m going to need to be resuscitated in the next two minutes if I don t get to a bed.
Seriously, though, I m so happy. Didn t I tell you Beau was the one?
I knew from the moment I met him that he was a keeper.
Doesn t surprise me at all that you re already engaged.
I mean, those veins, right? He s the entire package—except for the baseball thing.
But hey, lucky break for you because if he d been a teacher, I totally would ve snagged him for myself.
I m joking. Of course, I m joking.
I m pretty sure I m joking.
I keep talking as I drag my body out of the car and head for Yesenia s apartment. I ll grab my bags later. Right now I just want to make it to her spare bed. The couch. Carpet. Kitchen tile floor. Anywhere I can collapse.
Don t worry about having to cancel our plans to spend Christmas together.
Of course you should spend Christmas with your new fiancé s family.
I totally understand, and I m more than okay just crashing here at Yesenia s through the holidays.
She s heading out of town anyway, so I m sure she won t care.
And hey, don t be nervous at all about hanging out with Beau s parents.
I only met his dad briefly, but I can assure you they re the best. I absolutely love his mom.
Seriously, Lucy. You are one very blessed girl.
I can t think of a better family for anyone to marry into.
This officially goes down as the best match I ve ever orchestrated.
I m giving myself a gold matchmaker medal on this one.
I press the outside buzzer to Yesenia s apartment as I continue talking to Lucy.
Congrats again. Beau is so yummy. Not yummy.
I didn t mean to say yummy. I meant a different word.
I meant... Why can I literally think of no other word right now except yummy ?
Just congratulations again, I m super happy for you, and I ll talk to you again after I come out of my coma in a few days.
I end my video message just as Yesenia s voice sounds through the intercom. Hola!
The door clicks, signaling I can enter. I climb the one set of stairs to her apartment like a mountain climber reaching the peak of Everest after running out of supplies four days ago. My entire body aches with exhaustion.
Yessy, I m so glad— That s as far as I get before a mound of heavy-breathing fur lunges through the doorway and knocks me to the floor.
I got a dog, Yesenia says in case I hadn t noticed the fifty-pound mop of golden curls sitting on my stomach and licking my face. But he can t stay here. Any chance you can take him with you?