Chapter 9
I CALLED JAMES ON THE DRIVE HOME FROM Henry’s, after sweating off at least five pounds thanks to Charlotte’s enchiladas. “They’re spicier than usual,” she’d warned. “I was on the phone with Tess’s brother while cooking, so I forgot to deseed the peppers…”
“Milk!” Henry had gasped after his third bite. My mouth was also ablaze. “Get me a glass of milk—please!”
Phone in my cupholder and AirPods in my ears, I shifted my hands on the steering wheel, waiting for my cousin to answer.
“Hello, Audrey!” someone answered after the second ring.
But it wasn’t James.
“Hey, Isa,” I said, smiling. “What’s up?”
“My Russian exam,” she told me. “It’s tomorrow morning, and I’m screwed.”
“No way,” I heard James say. “Tell the truth.”
“I’m screwed,” his girlfriend emphasized.
“Have you been studying?” I asked.
“All day,” she replied. “We’re getting ice cream now.”
I affectionately rolled my eyes. According to James, ice cream was the answer to most of life’s greatest conundrums. “You’re going to totally crush your test,” I told Isa. “I’m sending good vibes.”
“Good vibes received and much appreciated,” she said, then laughed before reading my mind. “Would you like to speak to J?”
I slowed to a stop at a red light. “Yes, please.”
“Hey, what’s happening?” James asked. “Everything okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” I answered, blood pumping in my ears. “I was just wondering if, um, you’d bought your train ticket already?”
The line was silent.
“Not yet,” James said carefully, as if trying to feel me out. “Why?”
“Because you don’t need to come anymore!” I blurted, never one for subtlety. “I’ll be fine on my own. You should stay at Brown with Isa.”
“Huh,” he said after I sucked in a deep breath. “Interesting.”
“Hi!” Isa said brightly in the background. “May I sample the potato chip caramel crunch, please?”
“I’m not going to ask what you’re planning,” James said lightly. “But there is a plan, right? Preferably one that ensures your safety?”
“Affirmative,” I told him, hoping that Here-to-Stay’s pool of “jet-setter” guests weren’t axe murderers, human traffickers, or members of a drug cartel.
Too many movies, I told myself. You and Henry watch too many movies!
James paused to consider my one-word response (and to give Isa his ice cream order—two scoops of black raspberry chocolate chip in a waffle cone). “Fine,” he said. “Here’s the deal: I’ll forgo my R my mind kept spinning potential afternoon dates with Henry. He hadn’t mentioned a plan, and I hadn’t asked.
A little mystery never hurt, right?
We crossed the student lot toward Henry’s car. It was very cute that he thought he had to drive us everywhere.
But before we could make a getaway, I heard the familiar beep-beep of Ellie’s Prius… and glanced over my shoulder to see her approaching us. “Hey, Audrey,” she said as I wondered how Henry had timed this so perfectly. Her eyes flicked to him. “What are you guys up to?”
“After-school activities,” Henry said, which I suspected was code for It’s a secret.
Ellie must’ve surmised the same. “How’s Here-to-Stay going?” she asked me. “Any developments?”
I shook my head. “I’m still waiting to be verified,” I told her. “But as soon as I am, Fair Winds is going to be featured in a New Hot Spots newsletter.”
It was an amazing way to get the word out, and I had all my fingers and toes crossed that my mom didn’t subscribe to Here-to-Stay emails.
“I know. I subscribed this morning.” Ellie smiled a little. “I want to stay in the loop.” She awkwardly gestured to her car. She looked like she both wanted and didn’t want to leave.
Henry made the decision for her. “We’ll see you later, Ellie,” he said easily. “I’m taking Audrey Christmas shopping.”
Ellie’s brow furrowed, and I all but gasped. “Really?”
“Yep.” Henry unlatched the passenger’s side door for me. “Really.”
I beamed as I climbed in his car, forgetting Ellie entirely.
Christmas shopping referred to nearby Westbrook, specifically the Pink Sleigh.
Housed in a historic brown barn right off the road, the Pink Sleigh was a tourist destination that exclusively sold Christmas ornaments and decorations—two entire floors’ worth of inventory, everything from whimsical Old World glass ornaments to German nutcrackers to dazzling tree toppers to retro Technicolor lights to Nativity sets. It was all, in its own way, art.
“Oh, Hepburn…” Henry tried to keep a straight face when we walked inside, but his eyes shined and he laughed at my awestruck expression. He tilted his head. “You are so predictable.”
My face warmed. “Christmas ornaments are an under-appreciated art form!”
“Yes, and the Pink Sleigh has been fighting fearlessly since 1963 to change that.”
I giggled. Did the owners have any idea what treasure was under their roof? Henry muttered that the place was one big fire hazard. “Bite your tongue,” I said before snapping a photo of him assessing intricate white-lace snowflakes.
Then he took my hand and tried to twirl me around. My cheeks warmed as I narrowly dodged a tree covered in gold tinsel and fast-food ornaments. Griff would love the sausage, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwich.
The barn was so narrow that the first time my mom and I’d gone there, we joked that we couldn’t turn around without making out with someone. It was beyond packed.
I remembered us snickering while surrounded by Byers’ Choice Carolers—or, as Monica Barbour so inappropriately but also appropriately called them, “blow job dolls.”
Now, I felt a tug in my chest. I suddenly missed her—and my dad, too.
They sent a photo earlier, but we hadn’t talked much since they left.
Maybe that’s for the best, I thought, as Henry and I climbed the rickety stairs to the second floor.
Even over the phone, they might be able to tell something is wrong…
“I repeat,” Henry said a few minutes later. I was admiring the old-fashioned Snow Village on display. It looked retro, circa the fifties. One of the villager figurines wore a red scarf and varsity letter sweater. “The fire marshal must be called.”
“Oh, come on.” I laughed. “Where is your Christmas cheer?” I turned to face Henry, my hip knocking his when I did. Only inches apart from each other, I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. His warmth tempted me to tip my head back to see if mistletoe hung above us.
I thought about kissing him.
I really thought about it, but before I could lean forward, Henry took one step sideways and snagged his arm in a web of twinkle lights.
“Graceful,” I murmured, thankful for the sudden ping in my pocket. I dug out my phone to see a new notification… then blinked to make sure I hadn’t imagined it: a DM from the newly installed Here-to-Stay app.