Chapter 48 Misty
MISTY
The anger lingers after the door slams behind him as he storms out of the office. The room feels colder once he’s gone, like he was the only thing keeping the winter at bay.
“I thought he was…”
Hudson silences Anderson with a sharp shake of his head.
I stand up, suddenly not wanting to be here without Talbot. “Well, thanks for working with me on such late notice.”
“You’re leaving?” Elsa asks.
“I thought you wanted a viewing party! We were going to order pizza with the rest of the money on your account,” Jake cries. “What about dinner?”
Hudson kicks his youngest brother.
“No, I think I’m good, actually.” I shove the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “I have a drive back to Rhode Island, but you guys go ahead and have a party. Just, could you—” I take a box out of my bag and hand it to his sister. “Do you think you could give that to him? Talbot?”
I wince as Elsa shakes the box.
“Force of habit.” She grins.
“It’s not fragile.”
“His heart sure is,” she quips. It’s a dig.
I grit my teeth.
Outside, it’s snowing. The Wynter siblings don’t have covered parking, and I brace myself to stand outside in the freezing wind to scrape my car off.
But someone’s scraped the ice and snow off my windshield already for me.
I look around in the dark.
It had to be him, right?
“Talbot? I’m sorry… I love you.” The words echo over the narrow side street. “Merry Christmas.”
“You have some nerve coming back here.”
The minute I walk through the front door, Sienna is in my face.
Her breath smells like peppermint schnapps and sugar cookies, and her eyes are bloodshot and feral.
“I am one glass of wine away from total emotional combustion. Where the fuck have you been? Austen is alive.” She shakes me.
“That motherfucker faked his own death.”
“I know.”
“Is this why you were ignoring my messages?” Her jaw drops.
“Your dad said he didn’t want you to talk to me. I feel horrible for dragging you into this. I needed to fix things.”
“Didn’t want to—ugh, my father.” Sienna’s wine sloshes as she hugs me. “You need to tell me everything.”
“I went to hire an assassin. A character assassin this time.”
“You sent him to jail.” Sienna’s eyes bug out.
In the living room, the West family and friends are gathered around the TV.
Sienna’s dad and Ryan stand in front of the fire, shifting their weight on their feet as they watch Austen get led from a police car to the county jail.
Brielle is livestreaming in front of the Christmas tree I decorated, telling people about how she never trusted Austen to begin with and she is actually the one who broke off their engagement.
Aunt Kathy fans Grandma Pam, who is slumped in an armchair.
My brothers have emptied out the fridge and are wolfing down all the leftovers.
“Hey, that’s for Christmas dinner tomorrow!” I try to wrestle the pan of lobster mac and cheese out of Mason’s hands.
“This is a special occasion,” Mason complains.
Jaxon spears a noodle.
“Cocoa Puff! Did Misty have my niece out in the cold? Poor baby, where’s your blanket?” My brothers call for the dog, who happily goes to where the food is.
The corgi sneezes.
“She’s sick!” Mason is reproachful.
“She’s not. Give me—”
Mason, big and hulking, blocks me from the pan.
“You didn’t even put it on a plate, Mason!”
“Let him have it; it’s Christmas! Champagne! Rum! Truffles!” Jaxon hoists his fork.
“Can I have—”
“No,” Ryan barks, eyes not leaving the TV.
“Oh my god,” Lucy squeals from the floor. “It’s all over HockeyTok.” She hits play, and Austen’s voice blares out of her phone.
“Misty set me up! This was a setup!”
According to the sports news broadcast, the NHL has issued a statement. It scrolls across the bottom of the TV screen: “Austen Langley has been suspended indefinitely pending investigation. The team’s lawyers are involved. The Harbor Hawks NHL team is under review.”
“This comes,” the reporter is saying, “after the Rhode Islanders were also under investigation.”
“People want to know, what’s going wrong in the NHL?” her cohost adds.
“Welp”—Mason scrapes out the pan—“the Harbor Hawks are fucked.”
“You got poor Austen arrested.” Pamela tries to push herself out of the armchair. “And you ruined the team. This is all your fault, Misty.”
Maybe it’s the champagne or the too-warm room, or that Talbot may or may not still begrudgingly care about me but definitely hates me, but I can’t handle it.
“Seriously, GrandPam?”
“Hallelujah!” Granny Keagan whoops.
“Austen has been breaking more laws than I can even count. How are you blaming this on me?”
“Misty,” my mom says through her teeth, “do not speak to your grandmother this way.”
“She is not my grandmother.”
My brothers’ mouths drop open.
“Do you have any idea how this looks? There are news vans outside. This was supposed to be a quiet Christmas.” Mom is furious.
My laugh comes out hollow. “You think this is my fault?”
“You could have been a better hockey girlfriend,” Aunt Kathy says sharply.
“I tried. Austen should have been faithful to me.” I beat my chest.
“Then you should have tried harder. He gave you a second chance, and you screwed it up.” Mom is spiraling.
I have run out of patience. “Guess what? Not everyone gets to have a happy ending like you do. Your life is so wonderful because people like me just snowplowed through all the challenges in front of you so you could live your dream.”
“I don’t understand what I did to raise such a mean, ungrateful daughter.” Mom’s lip trembles like she’s about to cry, and then I’ll rush to comfort her.
“I’m so fucking sick of your guilt trips,” I scream at her.
Ryan winces.
Mom looks like she just bit into a sour cranberry.
“If I hadn’t listened to you in the first place, I never would have gotten with Austen,” I rail. “I would have seen that he never actually cared about me at all, but you gave me shitty role models, and you’re constantly pick, pick, picking at me. I’m not good enough for you.”
“I mean, you’re not. No one wanted you in this family.
Either of you.” Brielle’s nail clicks on her phone as she ends the livestream.
“Not to mention, you drove off another guy. He’s not even employed, and you couldn’t manage to keep some guy who just wanted you for sex.
I mean, the bar was low, and you couldn’t even clear it. ”
“Brielle, shut the fuck up.” My fist clenches.
“I don’t know, maybe I need Talbot’s number. He might need a little comfort this—”
Sienna winces. Before I even realize it, my fist is flying through the air, connecting with Brielle’s ten-thousand-dollar nose—a present from her dad two Christmases ago.
My brothers groan as the nose crunches.
“Daddy, she hit me!” Brielle screams from the floor, blood streaming down her face.
“This woman woke up this morning and chose violence,” Granny Keagan declares.
“Call the police!” Pamela is hysterical.
Ryan rushes to help Brielle up.
My knuckles sting, but I can take it.
Ryan doesn’t look angry, just resigned.
“Rachel, control your daughter,” Pamela demands.
“Misty,” Mom snaps, “get out.”
“I’m not calling the police. I love you, Brielle, but maybe you need to stop trying to steal Misty’s boyfriends.” My stepfather rubs a hand over his eyes.
“Are you choosing Misty over your own daughter?” Aunt Kathy looks like she’s about to have a stroke.
“Misty is also my daughter,” Ryan tells his family. “I’m not choosing one over the other.”
I grab my purse. “Don’t worry, Ryan. I’m leaving.”
Jazzy Christmas tunes fill the bar.
“I’m never going to have another Christmas.” The lights sparkle off of my cranberry vodka martini.
“You brought GrandPam to the people, punched that man-stealing bitch in the face, got Austen arrested, and defended your boyfriend’s honor.” Granny Keagan shadowboxes.
“He’s not my boyfriend.” I sigh heavily.
“Situationship?”
“No.” I want to drown in my cocktail.
“I thought I was hip on the lingo. Lucy’s been steering me wrong.” Granny Keagan shakes her head.
“No, we’re not together.”
“What the hell did you disappear all day for?” Gran demands. “I thought you were off fucking like snow bunnies.”
“But you saw him.” Sienna leans over the table.
“Do you want fries? I could go for some fries.” The desperation creeps in.
“Girl…”
“He’s mad because I chose Austen over him.”
“You put Austen in jail,” Sienna reminds me. “Send him the video clip.”
“It’s already a meme.” Gran has her glasses on her head and is scrolling through her phone.
“No, last night. Austen showed up in my room. Talbot fought him.”
I get part of your heart...
“I should have called the police, but I didn’t. I gave Austen my car and some cash.”
“We should have burned the man along with the love box.” Gran shakes her head.
“It’s not a love box!” I shriek. “It was just the physical manifestations of my teenage delusions. Anyway, Talbot doesn’t want to play second fiddle. I can’t blame him. It sucks being second-best.” I slurp my drink sadly.
“But you don’t still love Austen, right?” Sienna demands.
“No, I—he doesn’t mean anything to me.” For once, it really feels like I mean it. Sorry, fourteen-year-old me, but honestly, if you feel bad, good, because you deserve it.
“Talbot’s chill. Just text him and tell him you made a mistake and want to bang,” Sienna says simply. “New Year’s resolution. We’re going to be adults. Starting today.”
Sienna dials his number.
“This number has been disconnected.”
I start to cry. “See? He’s done with me. He’s in Seattle on another job.”
I dab at my eyes. Granny Keagan signals for another drink.
“Maybe he came to his senses and realized that he just got too deep undercover, and he woke up and realized he doesn’t want to give up the hitman life to work in a café in a small town.
” Sienna signals the waiter. “You’re supposed to get a real job and stop moping around the café anyway.
You have a master’s degree. You don’t need an MBA to sell holiday-themed booze to people with mild drinking problems.”
Granny Keagan raps me on the nose. “Now, after Christmas, you’re going to buy a plane ticket and go to Seattle and hunt him down,” she tells me while Sienna orders us fries and another round.
“Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? He’s supposed to make the grand gesture to her?” Sienna asks.
“If a woman waits around on a man to grow a pair of balls and commit, her uterus will dry up and turn to dust. Women are the hunters.” She slams her fist on the table. “Stalk him through the Serengeti, tie him up and drag him home, and ride that dick into the sunset.”
Christmas carols are playing in the otherwise-silent house when I shut the front door behind me as quietly as possible and unwrap my scarf.
Part of me thinks Talbot’s going to be there waiting in the dark for me. Like he’s upstairs in my room and all I have to do is sneak up, open the door, and catch him in front of the fireplace.
“I don’t know what goes with what. Misty wrapped all of these…”
“Since when do people wrap stocking stuffers? She’s the only one I know who does that.”
“Those are the dog’s presents.”
My mom jumps when she hears my voice.
Ryan gives me a warm, quick smile and pads out of the living room.
“There’s my baby girl, my best friend. I was worried you wouldn’t come back for Christmas, that you’d run off with that Talbot.” She wraps me in a hug.
“Mom.”
“Ryan said you’d be back.” She kisses the top of my head.
“Mom.” I take a deep breath. “I’m moving out.”
“Where?” she cries.
“I don’t know. Seattle.”
“Seattle?” she screeches.
“You’ve managed without me before.”
“You were in Manhattan. It was a train ride away.” She sits down hard on the couch. “Seattle’s a whole continent away. It’s practically another country.”
I start sorting the presents, putting Lucy’s in her stocking, Mason’s in his.
“I thought we agreed that you were over this nonsense. Pamela was so upset after you left. Ryan had to drive her home. She and Kathy don’t know if they’re coming over for Christmas. You drove off Ryan’s mother, Misty.”
“We didn’t agree to anything, Mom. You just let Pamela be the voice of insecurities in your head. You never believed you were good enough for Ryan.”
My mom looks crushed.
“I can’t even—” She looks around helplessly. “I can’t even put the right presents in my children’s stockings. I’m a terrible mother. Pamela is right.”
“Mom, Ryan loves you. You have an eighteen-year-old son. At this point, he’s not falling out of love with you. Just chill about it. See a therapist or something for your anxiety. He’s not Dad. He’s not leaving you.”
“You’re leaving me.” Her lip trembles.
“It’s not forever.”
“What’s in Seattle?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Talbot?”
“Maybe. Depends.”
“The Castellanos’ son just got divorced. I told her we’d come over the day after Christmas for coffee. You’d like him—he works for the city. He has two little boys, but I told her you like children.”
“I don’t want to meet the Castellanos’ son.”
Mom sounds teary. “I just wanted you to find true love because it’s amazing. It’s—” She looks up at the wedding pic of her and Ryan. “It’s everything I always dreamed it would be. I just wanted that for you. I want you to be happy.”
“I think I had it with Talbot, and I—I just let it go, I guess.”
“Are you sure, though?”
“Ryan seems to think so.”
“Oh.”
“Anyway, that’s why I’m going to Seattle. As we can see, I just can’t quit the things that are bad for me: men, Christmas cookies, cheap wine…”
“You have to fight for love.” My mom grabs my arm.
“Do you? I’m really tired of fighting for things. I mean—” I gesture to the photo. “Did you have to fight for it?”
“Well… of course not.” She wrinkles her nose.
“It’s always easy for you.” I nod. “Maybe I need to stop fighting. Maybe it’s just not meant to happen for me.”
The stockings are stuffed. Mom and I silently hang them up.
“Oh, where’s your stocking?”
“I have to hide it. If I don’t supervise it, Granny Keagan will empty it out and stuff it full of condoms and porn.”
My mom giggles.
I manage a smile.
“I’m so proud of you, Misty. You know that, right? My lovely, beautiful, strong daughter.” She sighs. “I guess we’ll have to all come visit you in Seattle.”
“If I go. I drank too much. Got overconfident.”
“You should go. If you love him, you should go after him.”
Cocoa snores in front of the fire.
I sip the last of the wine and give myself a list of reasons why going to Seattle is a bad idea.
The clock ticks closer to Christmas and my birthday.
Another year wasted.
And I’m not sure I’ve ever felt more alone.