Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
Raya
Over the next several days, I spend a whole lot of time doing a whole lot of nothing.
After Finn and I went to the tutoring club, the team went on the road. I’d expected him to drop me off and go, but in true Finn fashion, he walked me into the house and made me cinnamon toast for the second time since I’ve known him.
Only this time, I ate it, then went and laid down, surprised to discover that I wanted to rest.
The next day, the team went on the road. I told him I was glad I’d finally get a little peace and quiet without him bugging me every day, to which he responded that he would FaceTime me every day, to which I responded that I wouldn’t answer.
Like everything else, he took that in stride.
Surprisingly, it only took a few hours of being awake today for me to rethink the “peace and quiet” claim, because if Finn showed up at my door, at least I’d have something to do.
Thankfully, albeit predictably, my family has been hovering.
And it’s actually been kind of nice.
On Saturday, my mom showed up late morning with bagels and cream cheese—two of my favorite things.
I tried to tell her I didn’t need a babysitter and I didn’t want her to give up her entire day for me.
Her response? “Raya, I’m your mother, and this is what mothers do.
You’d know that if you ever let anyone help you with anything.
” And with that, she pushed her way into my house, leaving me standing in the doorway, pondering her comment.
I don’t let her help with anything because I can take care of things myself—not because I’m trying to rob her of the chance to be my mom. She knows that, right?
We ended up sitting on the couch watching Christmas movies the entire day.
I’ve never spent an entire day watching television!
By the third movie, our commentary had become the real entertainment, and it took three-and-a-half hours to get through Santa Clues because we kept pausing to laugh at the ridiculous premise.
The heroine—forced back to her small, Midwestern hometown because of a family emergency— is putting her true crime podcasting skills to good use by trying to figure out who’s been going around the town answering all the letters written to Santa.
We figured out after the second scene that it was her old flame from high school, the “one that got away,” mainly because he was the only character with any lines and the only one wearing red and green checkered flannel.
On Sunday, after our usual Hart family dinner, I reached out to two work colleagues to check on the Denim and Diamonds event, but both of my texts went unanswered.
That night, I went to a Loveland Town Meeting and tried to volunteer to chair three different Christmas events, but every single time I raised my hand, Poppy grabbed it and pulled it down.
“You can attend the events,” she hissed. “But you’re not going to be the one in charge of them.”
“I could plan these things in my sleep,” I said. “And it’s important to volunteer.”
“Fine, I’ll sign you up to work the kissing booth,” Poppy whispered.
I glared at her, and then—“There isn’t really a kissing booth, is there?”
She widened her eyes and nodded slowly, wagging her eyebrows. “The Mistletoe Bungalow.”
I shuddered. She giggled.
“I’m so bored,” I’d told her miserably, then went back to listening, but when Margot, Jeremy’s wife, took the stage, I gave myself permission to zone out.
I’m not harboring ill will toward Jeremy and Margot, but she’s genuinely not a very nice person.
Most of my feelings about her have less to do with Jeremy and more to do with the fact that she bullied Poppy right up until Dallas entered the picture.
Now, she sort of kisses up to my sister, which would be hilarious to watch if Poppy wasn’t so nice in return.
Inwardly, I groan. I should be more like Poppy. I don’t need to be carrying grudges over here. Especially on my sister’s behalf when she’s clearly moved on.
Do better, Raya.
I pull out my phone and see I have a new text. From Finn. I try to be discreet when I open it because I don’t want Poppy to see it. I also silence notifications because, knowing Finn, there will be a lot of incoming texts.
I was right. Four right in a row.
Finn
Hey
Sorry to bug you
Actually not sorry because we’re FRIENDS now
Did you know your hometown has a big kick-off Christmas celebration?
Raya
I’m at a town meeting listening to them talk about it right now.
Finn
No way! Do they need someone to play Santa? I’ll totally volunteer.
I smirk at my phone because I can see it. And he’d probably be great at it. Heck, if he stuck around longer than a month, the mayor would probably name a day in his honor. Finn has a way of winning people over.
Not me, of course, but other people seem to gravitate to him.
Raya
I’ll be sure to ask.
Finn
We should go. It looks like they have tons of events. A parade? Sleigh rides? Tree lighting?
Raya
Do they not have Christmas in Montana?
Finn
Of course they do! And I love it. There’s something every weekend starting the Friday after Thanksgiving. Dang. I’m making a list of the things I want to do. Do you do all these events?
Raya
I do some things.
Finn
Uh huh
Raya
We go to Pine Creek Tree Farm to get our tree every Thanksgiving weekend. That’s always an adventure.
Finn
Do you get one of your own? For your house?
Raya
No.
Finn
We’ll fix that. What else do you do?
I think back on the past few Christmas seasons and realize it’s been a while since I’ve done anything to celebrate the holidays beyond the actual day. When I don’t respond right away, Finn texts again.
Finn
Don’t tell me . . . you don’t do any of this stuff.
Raya
The holidays are busy enough.
Finn
Raya
Finn
Did you know they have holiday fireworks?
Do you think those are different from regular fireworks?
He can’t seriously be this awestruck over Christmas, can he? Maybe this is just how he is about everything.
Raya
I think they’re pretty much the same.
Finn
Still cool. The ice rink looks decent too. Do you skate? Dallas said he took Poppy once and she was terrible.
Raya
She is. And so am I. Nobody in our family skates.
Finn
Great! I’ll teach you.
Raya
I’m good.
Finn
Nah, I got you.
The Monday before Thanksgiving, Poppy and Eloise take pity on me with a sisters’ night. It was Eloise’s idea, and once she had it in her head, there was no talking her out of it.
She also said she didn’t want me to leave my house, so they were coming to me.
I told her to stop babying me, and she said she wanted to give me a dose of my own medicine. There was no laughing emoji or “LOL” attached to that text.
She meant it.
Secretly, I’m glad they’re coming. Not only have I been struggling to stay not busy, but it’s been a long time since we’ve hung out, just the three of us.
They show up together, armed with snacks and drinks, both wearing Comets hoodies I assume belong to their significant others. They storm into my house, Hurricane Harts, and Poppy sets up a spread of snacks that looks like it could feed a small army.
Eloise pulls a bottle of Dr Pepper from her bag, opens it, and takes a drink. “I thought we were going to be late. Poppy insisted on stopping at the grocery store, and we ran into Jan Potter, and you know how she talks.” She turns toward my living room. “Why isn’t the TV on?”
I frown. “Because you guys just got here.”
She rushes into the room, picks up the remote, and clicks on the television. “But the game”—she stops flipping channels and sets the clicker back on the table—“is starting.” She grins. “Look, there’s Gray!”
“I thought we were going to watch a rom-com,” I say. “I think 27 Dresses is streaming. We love that one.’”
Eloise turns to Poppy. “Didn’t you tell her about the game?”
Poppy waves a hand over the spread of food. “No, El, I was a little busy.”
Eloise looks at me. “Do you want us to leave? We could go watch at Poppy’s, or—”
“No, it’s fine.” I glance at the screen just as they pan across the team warming up out on the ice. I squint, searching the jerseys for the one that says “Holbrook.”
What am I doing?
I look away, but not in time for my curiosity to go unnoticed. Eloise quirks a brow, but I ignore her and walk into the kitchen. “Can I help?”
Poppy shakes her head. “Just go sit.”
“I’m so tired of sitting.”
She eyes me.
“Please? Something little. I can handle bringing a bowl from the kitchen to the living room.”
She smiles, capitulates, and slides a tray of veggies over to me.
“Thank you. I hate not being at least somewhat useful.”
“I know,” Poppy says. “But it really is the best thing for you right now.”
Eloise grabs a handful of nuts from the charcuterie board Poppy is arranging, messing up the neatly stacked arrangement and eliciting an “El!” from Poppy.
Eloise is oblivious. “How many times have you called work?”
“Only a few.” I pull a bottle of water from the fridge, hold it up with raised brows, and Poppy nods. I hand it to her then grab one for myself. “It’s pointless, though. Nobody will take my calls, and they locked me out of my email.”
Poppy laughs out loud. “Epic.”
“It’s awful,” I say. “I know they care about my mental health, but good grief.” I pause. “Also, I think my boss is trying to make a point about me taking direction. Apparently, I have a tendency to do things my own way.”
They both stare at me.
“What?”
“Do not pretend you don’t know this about yourself,” Poppy says.
I only shrug, because yes, I do know this.