Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
SARAH
Every part of Sarah’s living room was glowing except for her. She was doing her very best to hide it, not wanting to be the one to sour the mood of the day. It was Christmas, after all.
The scent of pine and French toast mixed lazily in the air as they sat around the large Christmas tree, set off in the corner, tall and towering and draped in glass-blown ornaments, twinkling lights, and an assortment of handmade crafts from Lily’s early years that she had never quite been able to let go of.
Wrapping paper littered the rug in the form of crumpled up little balls of red and silver.
Lily and Wren had finished their frenzied search through the branches of the tree for hidden chocolates—a family tradition Sarah had passed on.
By the sounds of their triumphant shrieks and giggles, they’d just found the last one.
They all wore matching pajamas, a tradition Beth had insisted on when they were married and continued even after.
Even if they didn’t see each other for the holidays, a new set of pajamas always seemed to magically appear for Sarah.
This year’s set: red flannel with candy-cane trim.
She felt ridiculous in them, but it was tradition, and no matter how cruel it felt sometimes, she would never break a family tradition.
And that’s exactly how she found herself in this position—sitting in her living room in matching family pajamas, pretending she wasn’t sneaking glances at Beth and Jamie where Beth was folded into Jamie’s side, feet tucked under her.
Jamie, with one arm draped over her shoulders, absentmindedly stroking her arm and—nope.
Sarah yanked her gaze away. She wouldn’t torture herself unnecessarily like this. Not on Christmas. She shot up from her spot in the armchair she had been occupying, her nervous energy getting the better of her. The sudden movement drew Beth’s eyes.
“Going to tidy up a bit. Kitchen’s a mess,” she murmured, not to anyone in particular.
“I’ll help,” Jamie said gingerly.
“No, really, it’s fine.” Sarah tried to persuade her against joining, but it was no use.
For the most part, she and Jamie worked quietly, passing things back and forth easily. They weren’t quite friends, but still, she liked Jamie, even if their only interactions orbited around Beth or Lily.
“I really admire how you and Beth handle all of this,” Jamie said softly, wringing out the sponge she had been using to wash pans. “You know, the coparenting stuff, and how you still have family traditions. The family thing . . . it’s really rare. Thanks for welcoming me in.”
Sarah swallowed the knot forming in her throat. This was exactly why she couldn’t hate Jamie—because Jamie was so damn nice it was almost annoying.
“You’re always welcome, Jamie.” Sarah smiled. “Like it or not, you’re part of this blended family.”
“Best family I’ve ever been a part of. And I mean that.”
Sarah didn’t respond; she didn’t trust herself to. She smiled as she wiped crumbs off the counter. If there was one thing she had always been good at, it was making others feel included.
Beth’s voice carried in from the other room, distinctively bright and airy in the way it seemed to float through the air. “Can you make me a cup of tea, love?”
Habit took over her as Sarah spoke first. “Sure thing, hun,” she answered automatically, just as Jamie replied simultaneously. “Of course, babe.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Sarah froze before she looked to Jamie, bracing herself for her response, but it didn’t come. There was no judgment in her eyes, no fury, only a sort of recognition, which was somehow worse than pity. On some level, Sarah knew what it was. Understanding.
“Sorry,” she said quickly, stepping away from the counter and tossing the paper towel full of crumbs into the trash. “Force of habit.”
Jamie gave her a small, sad smile. “I get it.”
“I need some air,” Sarah muttered, swiping her phone off the counter. Without waiting for Jamie’s response, she pushed through the door leading to a small covered porch off the kitchen.
How had she let that slip? She was usually so tightly controlled, so calculated, especially when it came to all things Beth. Her hands shook slightly as she unlocked her phone and pressed Nell’s contact. It rang twice before she answered.
“Well, this is a delightful surprise,” Nell said, her smooth voice gliding through the speaker. Sarah instantly felt herself relaxing into it, into the calm Nell always seemed to carry.
She leaned against the porch railing, phone pressed to her ear, cool mist prickling her cheeks. On the other end, she could hear high-pitched laughter and mechanical music that almost sounded like a carousel.
“Where are you?” she asked.
She registered the shift in Nell’s voice as her velvety tone gave way to dryness. “Disney World.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Unfortunately.”
Sarah couldn’t help the involuntary way she began to smile, thinking about Nell at Disney World, of all places. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I were. We’ve been at Magic Kingdom since it opened this morning. Nate insists on it every year. Our StanGrant Christmas tradition.”
Sarah laughed, feeling oddly reassured that she wasn’t the only one partaking in holiday traditions a bit begrudgingly this year. “I’m having a hard time picturing you there. You hate crowds.”
“Correct. And also small children whose parents leave them unattended, and slow walkers. But I love Nate,” Nell said flatly, “and this happens to be what he loves, so here I am. It would be much more enjoyable if he let me pay for a few VIP services . . .” Sarah could imagine clearly the look Nell must be shooting at Nate right now—cutting on the surface, but underneath, pure adoration.
“But he says it ruins the ‘fun of the experience,’” she said loftily, “so here I am, pretending not to die inside.”
“You’re so dramatic!” Nate’s voice cut through over Nell’s. “She’s having a blast. I’ll send you some pics.”
“Excuse you,” came Nell’s stern voice. “This is my phone call. Don’t be rude.”
Sarah was beaming now. This was exactly what she needed. Talking to Nell always made her feel better.
Before she could stop herself, Sarah said offhandedly, “I kind of love that about you.”
“Mm?”
“That you never say no to indulging someone’s inner child, even when it means trading Jimmy Choos for Mickey ears.”
Nell snorted. “I don’t own Mickey ears.”
“I’m willing to bet you do. And, if you recall, I have quite the lucky streak.”
Sarah’s cheeks flushed as she thought back to their trip to Las Vegas and the way Nell had found new ways to embolden her.
“Oh, I remember.” A hint of tease slipped into Nell’s response. “But can we focus on the real issue here? Why did you call me?”
Sarah glanced through the window, back into the house. From her vantage point, she could just see into the living room, where Beth and Jamie were cozied back on the couch.
“Everyone is at my house for Christmas celebrations. Beth asked for tea. She said ‘love,’ like she always used to call me, and for a moment, I forgot that’s not who I am to her anymore. Jamie and I answered at the same time.”
“Oh,” Nell said quietly.
Sarah suddenly wondered if this was okay to discuss with Nell. They’d talked about her feelings for Beth before—Nell was aware of how she felt—but this was the first time Sarah felt maybe this wasn’t a conversation Nell wanted to be a part of.
“Is it okay that we’re talking about this?” Sarah asked.
“You can talk to me about anything. I’m always here for you. Please, continue.”
To others, Nell might come across a little cold, but Sarah knew that underneath that exterior was a woman who cared so deeply for those who were important to her. She needed that right now.
“It was fucking mortifying, Nell. Jamie didn’t make a big deal out of it, thankfully, but the look she gave me?
God, it was worse than pity. Now I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to go back in there and be fine.
” She groaned into the phone. “Sorry, I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this,” she said, her voice caught on the edge of the frustration she was holding back.
“Rule number nine, Sarah. Never apologize for wanting to be known. You’re telling me because you trust me and you know I won’t judge you. Both of which are important to me,” Nell replied simply.
Sarah’s voice was quiet with her response. “You’re right, I do.”
They each sat in the silence of that admission until Nell broke it.
“Merry Christmas, by the way,” Nell said, steering the conversation away from Beth, for which Sarah was extremely grateful. “I have a present for you that should cheer you up.”
“Yeah? What crazy, outlandish thing did you get me?” she teased gently. “A yacht? A villa in the south of France?”
“I opted for something a little more practical. Something you’ll actually enjoy. I’m whisking you away for a weekend in Whistler—just us. No phones. Skiing, hot tubs, spa days, the works. We’re going all out aprés-ski, baby.”
“That sounds like what I need right now. I can’t wait.”
“I’ve got an adorable set of leather restraints I’ve been dying to take for a spin.” Sarah heard a sputtering, followed by coughing in the background of Nell’s call—no doubt Nate losing it over what Nell had just said to her.
Sarah played along, matching her easy teasing. “Hmm . . . I’ll have to think about that. That was never part of our arrangement.”
“I think you’ll find the language of the terms flexible enough to accommodate what I want to do to you.”
“Whatever you say.” Sarah rolled her eyes.
“Correct. Whatever I say.”
Sarah smiled, a thrill shooting through her as she let her mind wander to the things Nell might want to do to her.
“Ride Space Mountain for me, okay? It’s my favorite.”
“For you? Anything.”
The line clicked as Nell hung up.
Just like always, there was no goodbye.