26
Is it carolers?” Hearing Robbie’s honey-tinged voice as he makes his way to the front door sends bolts of pain through my body.
When he joins Audrey on the doorstep, he’s wearing that enormous grin—the one so bright it would make the sun jealous. He looks amazing, in a pair of green khakis and a navy blazer that hugs his trim figure and broad shoulders.
I struggle to control my breathing as he puts a hand around Audrey’s waist before finally looking at me. His body tenses as our eyes lock—and I swear for ten seconds, time stands still. “Marygrace,” he breathes in shock. “What are you doing here? Is everything all right?”
It takes everything in me to not scream: No, everything is definitely not right. I’m too late. My best friend is taken. And, what’s worse, he looks so, so happy.
Robbie steps aside and motions me in. “Come on out of the cold.”
I shake my head vigorously. “Oh no, I’m fine.”
He looks at me, confused. “Then why are you here?” Audrey tilts her head in agreement, her eyes beginning to narrow.
My heart races. I’ve never felt so silly. I stammer. “I—”
I glance behind me at my sister and cousin in the car and force myself to perk up. “We’re caroling.”
On cue, Wit Wit and Juliet wave from the car, thumbs-up and shouting hello.
Relief washes over me, glad they’re backing me up. Because after seeing Audrey here with Robbie, I know I’m going to need all the support I can get.
I clear my throat and repeat with more confidence, “Yes, we’re going around caroling.”
“Fun!” Robbie’s shoulders relax and he flashes his distracting smile again. “You’ve always had an amazing voice,” he says. Audrey elbows him and he winks at her. “You, too, hon.”
She giggles and they look so damn cute together it twists my heart.
I study his eyes to try to see if there’s any surprise there at the fact that I’m singing in public, after all the times when I told him I wasn’t going to.
After the last cycle when he got me to believe in myself and stand up and sing at the tree lighting.
But the lack of recognition in his eyes that this is even an important moment is enough to make me want to cry.
I understand what George Michael felt when he sang about his last Christmas. I blink back the tears.
And like George Michael, I still want to tell Robbie how I feel.
“I finished my song,” I say, voice shaky.
Robbie’s smile falters, a look of awe crosses his face, and he chuckles. “Do you mean your Christmas song?”
I don’t answer him because if I don’t start singing the words that are bursting in my chest now, I may never have the courage to do it again. Without even glancing at the paper in my hands, I clear my throat and begin singing.
Like when I sang at the tree lighting, the notes make me come alive.
My body sways to the melody and tune—which Robbie and I purposefully made sound the complete opposite of “Last Christmas”—as I sink into the song.
It comes out clear and strong and I pour all my heartbreak and sorrow into it, as though Robbie can hear everything I feel for him in the words I share.
When I finally reach the end, I open my eyes and belt the final verse:
This Christmas, my list has only you.
When we’re together again, our flame is renewed.
When I say I love you, it’s so true,
And now I know your feelings, too.
Listen, honey, I finally see—
After all these years, you’re still in love with me.
“That was beautiful, Mary,” Audrey says, but there’s a skeptical expression creeping onto her face.
My smile is tiny in response. “Thanks. Robbie helped me write some of it when we were in high school.”
He nods, a faraway look on his face. He speaks his thoughts aloud to no one in particular. “‘This Christmas’ is a response to ‘Last Christmas.’ Instead of bittersweet longing for an old love, it’s about a new love, not heartbreak,” he explains.
I can feel my bottom lip quiver as he mentions heartbreak. Because that’s exactly the feeling in my chest.
“Lovely,” Audrey says.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” I mutter before plastering a fake smile on my face. “Well! I’ve got to go. More houses to hit.”
Robbie’s expression dims. He opens and closes his mouth like he’s struggling with what to say. Audrey fills the void.
“I’m so jealous, Mary. Robbie and I would join you caroling, but my family is taking us out to dinner at the club,” she says. “Next year. Don’t forget us,” she orders.
I try not to laugh or cry. Next year, she says? I’ve time traveled so many times I’ve already had five “next years.” Who knows what next year will look like. Or if I’ll ever make it out of this time loop to be there.
“It was good to see you, Marygrace. I love what you did with the song,” Robbie adds with a smile. He doesn’t even reach out to give me a hug, though. Just gazes fondly at Audrey before saying, “Let me grab my coat and I’ll be ready to go.”
“Hurry, our rideshare is near,” she says, checking her phone as she shuts the door.
I stand there longer than I should as despair fills my entire body.
When I finally turn and walk down the Morrows’ driveway toward Wit Wit’s Volvo, I’m pretty sure I look as tragic as a gingerbread man missing an arm, except in my version its heart has been torn and ripped to shreds by a carnivorous abominable snowman.
What hurts the most is how happy my best friend looked. He deserves to be happy. Dread pools at the pit of my stomach. What if Robbie’s been destined to marry Audrey? After all, Robbie was never mine in any of these loops.
“Mimi, I’ve got you.” Juliet rushes up the drive to reach me, grabbing ahold of my elbow and arm to walk with me back to the car.
She rubs my back in circles as we walk, telling me everything is going to be okay. It’s how I imagine she soothes Kristy. Here I am, a grown-ass woman needing consoling like an infant. It doesn’t make me feel any better.
As we drive home, my cousin sits with me, but I’m in no mood to speak. Even my sister senses my need for space.
When we pull into our driveway, I stiffen noticing the white BMW SUV on the street in front of my mom’s house. The license plate reads 2MORROW.
It’s Madam Lunas. I know it. Good. She and I need to have words.
“Let’s head in,” Juliet says gently. But I can’t head in. I need to talk to Madam Lunas. I lift my chin and address my cousin and sister.
“I need some time alone. Can I sit in your car a few minutes?”
The two of them exchange looks but ultimately agree. Juliet nods. “Okay. And later, if you need, we can do a quick bakery run before they close.”
My chest hollows. She knows me so well. If I were going anywhere, it would be back to the Hopewell Crossing Bakery for some self-care. “Thank you,” I say.
My sister twists in my direction from the driver’s seat. “I’m glad you finally did something for yourself rather than try to please everyone else. And I’m just so sorry it didn’t work out this time. You don’t have to please everyone, Mimi. You just need to please yourself.”
“I’ll have a sinfully sweet peppermint hot chocolate ready for you in the house,” Juliet says.
I nod in response but have the ominous feeling that I won’t be coming back to enjoy that drink.
“Why didn’t you tell me Robbie was off-limits?” I ask Madame Lunas by way of greeting, slamming the car door shut behind me.
I meet her dark eyes in the rearview mirror.
She frowns in response. “Because it’s not true.”
“He’s engaged to Audrey.”
She shrugs. “In this timeline, maybe.”
“What’s the point of all these timelines?” I growl at her. “It’s not like I can control any of it. I tried. I put myself first. But all I got was more heartbreak.”
She puts the car in gear and begins to drive. “The love of your life is for you to decide, remember.”
I shut my eyes and take a deep breath. The heater is blasting. I sink into the sensation as we speed away from my mom’s street, warming my toes, which were still cold from standing in Robbie’s snowy driveway. I don’t even care where we’re going.
Maybe I’ve done this all wrong. Maybe me finding the “love of my life” isn’t some exercise for me to fall in love with another person, maybe it’s me picking the possible future I want.
I open my eyes to see Hopewell Crossing sliding by out the window. Green and red decorations glistening with snow. The streetlamps have begun to turn on, bringing warmth and cheer to the town I love so much.
“What if—” My voice cracks. “What if I pick this timeline?”
Madam Lunas looks at me in the rearview mirror. “Are you sure?”
I fight the lump in my throat.
“I’m a speech therapist. I’m getting confident singing again. Robbie is clearly happy with Audrey. I don’t want to take that away from him. He deserves to be happy.” I feel my lips tremble.
Madam Lunas glances at me again in the rearview, looking directly into my eyes.
“But the people who love you most want the same for you,” she says.
I put my head in my hands and let out a bitter laugh. What a predicament. How can I ever have a future with Robbie if I know there’s some alternate world where he loves Audrey? But it feels awful that I never got a chance to tell him how I feel.
“Well?” Madam Lunas prompts. “Do you really want to stay in this timeline?”
I inhale sharply as I weigh my options. If I stay here, Robbie will marry Audrey and will likely be just fine.
Meanwhile, I have a decent chance at having a happy life here, too. Everything is great: I like my career, I’m ready to sing again, my family is in my life, and Leo—for all his quirks—is a nice guy.
Madam Lunas picks up speed as we exit Hopewell Crossing’s Main Street. Trees and snow blend together in a blurry green-and-white mess out the car window.
But is this the future that I want?
“Can you promise me something?” I ask, inhaling deeply, squeezing my hands into fists.
“I don’t know,” she says frankly.
“Promise that Robbie will be all right?” I ask, leaning forward in my seat. “That he’ll be happy no matter what?”
“My dear, Robbie is free to make his own decisions,” she says. “This is about you being free to make yours.”
The words land squarely in my chest. Suddenly, like a curtain has opened and revealed the answers, I know what I must do.
I’ve spent so long worrying about other people—my exes, my family, what they want, what they need, what might fall apart if I mess up—that I stopped noticing my wants. I stopped using my own voice.
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly thick. I can’t control Robbie’s happiness or his choices, but I have a say over my decisions.
I take a deep breath. It’s time I write my own script. “Madam Lunas. You told me I get to choose who I love. After five glimpses into my future, I know who I choose.” I take a big, shaky breath and grab the door handle. “I hope that wherever I am next means you agree.”
Before I can talk myself out of it, I unbuckle my seat belt and open the door. Eyes squeezed tight, I fling my body out of the moving car. The last thing I hear is a loud wham.