2 #2
The sudden crush of heartache that races through me is too heavy for me to explain this all to Juliet without full-on ugly crying in the middle of Main Street surrounded by happy families and couples enjoying last-minute Christmas shopping and holiday drink specials, so I put on a brave face.
“I know I don’t need a date to feel happy,” I tell my cousin. “But I see you and my siblings and their families, and I just think it would be really nice, for once, to not feel so… lost.”
“You’re not lost!” Juliet grips me in a sudden, tight hug. “You’re about to get your career off the ground, and you’re the best aunt your nieces and nephews could ask for. I wish you could see how amazing you are, Mimi.”
I snort, pulling away and dabbing at my eyes and the traitor tears welling in them.
“If you grew up in the shadow of my perfect brother and sister, you’d understand.
Your parents are so much more chill.” Juliet’s mom is the youngest sister and, in my opinion, always so much more loving and caring than my mom, who is the oldest.
She shrugs and we continue walking, stepping around another store sign, this one exclaiming Fa La La La Lavender Soap!
“And if I am so cool, why are twenty percent of my text messages ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ or just sad face emojis like the one I received from Luke?”
“Easy. Because those guys are losers,” Juliet exclaims. “And even though I won’t say that you don’t have anything to be proud of… Your track record has taken a hit these past few years.”
“Hey, not all of my exes were despicable!” I swat at her. “What about Flynn? He was rich AF.”
In an alternate universe I might even be married to him.
“Don’t get me started on him,” Juliet scoffs.
“Okay, so we had some issues,” I start, but then stop in my tracks when I notice where we’re standing. The corner of Main and Evergreen Lane. The location of Morrow Music—Robbie’s family store. It’s been here as long as I can remember.
The corners of my mouth curve up at the familiar green brick storefront.
This time of year the shop’s windows are sprayed white around the perimeters and trimmed with holiday garlands and twinkling lights.
The building looks older now, worn at the edges, like it could use a little TLC, but everything is how I remember it.
That is, except for a tiny red sign in the corner window.
FOR SALE.
I grip Juliet’s arm. “Are the Morrows selling their business?”
Nostalgia and sadness roll over me like the sound of distant carols: Robbie and I racing between the aisles, banging on the drum sets, pretending to be rock stars. Hours spent rehearsing for school concerts, our laughter echoing through the shop. To think it will all be gone…
I sniff the air. Even outside, the shop always smelled like old sheet music, polished wood, and cinnamon rolls—courtesy of the tenants who lived in the apartment above and liked to bake.
But now the scent is gone. I look at the windows above the music store.
They’re dark and bare, with no trace of anyone living inside.
“The apartment up there has been vacant awhile now,” Juliet says, reading my mind. “And I heard the Morrows are retiring.”
I shake my head. The red FOR SALE sign is small, but to me it’s as large as a billboard.
The thought of those doors closing for good squeezes my chest. No matter what passed between Robbie and me, I would hate to see this place disappear.
It would be like a piece of my childhood vanishing with it, solidifying the distance that had grown between us.
Without it, any tether to our friendship is officially severed.
What’s more, the store never lectured me about life choices, never told me it didn’t want to be friends anymore. Instead, it allowed me to dream.
Juliet squeezes my hand, pulling me back to the present.
“Robbie said he was in town for some personal matters,” I say, remembering how he got so closed off when he mentioned his family. “This must be the reason.”
My cousin loops her arm in mine and we continue walking. “You ran into Music Boy?”
A soft warmth rolls through me as I recall the old nickname my family gave him.
To me he couldn’t be anything but Robbie, or RoMo, the stage nickname I gave him when we were kids.
“Weird, right? We literally haven’t spoken in eight years.
Anyway, he got all quiet when his family came up and I left it at that. ”
My cousin purses her lips and shakes her head.
“What?” I demand.
“Nothing. I didn’t say a thing.”
I roll my eyes. She always wanted me to make amends with Robbie, but some things aren’t as easy to resolve as they seem. We continue down the block toward where my little red Kia glows under a streetlight like a Christmas ornament.
Juliet lays her head on my shoulder, and the weight of it offers me the comfort I need right now. “I think your future looks bright, Mimi.”
“I wish I felt the same way.”
My cousin nudges me in the side. “I meant literally. At Olivia’s bachelorette party you and I are going to put on our loudest dresses and shine.” She raises her arms to sky. “We’re going to manifest you some Christmas magic.”
I pause, studying her face as strands of Christmas lights flick on in my brain. “Of course. You’re brilliant! We’re going to a bar! I’ll find a date to bring home Christmas Eve.”
Juliet groans. “That’s not what I meant, Marygrace.”
“But it’s as good a plan as any,” I say, feeling excitement fire up my veins. “I’ll find a date tonight and bring him over for dinner tomorrow. No one has to know it wasn’t the guy who I originally planned to bring home!”
I ignore the shocked look on Juliet’s face as I hurry to my car. It’s going to be okay. Mom’s extra place setting won’t be wasted. Christmas miracles happen, right? And maybe, just maybe, there’s one out there for me, too.