Chapter 4
REESE
Rebecca sets down her mug, concern flickering across her face. “Don’t you have somewhere to be? I can’t have you stuck here with me.”
I lean back in my chair, trying not to smile at how she phrases it. Stuck. Like spending Christmas at a cozy inn with hot chocolate and a crackling fire is a grave hardship. “There’s snow place to go.”
Her eyes narrow as she tilts her head. “What did you say?”
“There’s snow place to go.” I can’t help the grin now. “Get it? Because of the storm?”
She groans as she tips her head back in silent laughter, but her expression is aglow with mirth. “That was terrible.”
“I’ve got more where that one came from. A whole sleigh-full, in fact.”
“Please don’t.”
“You’re saying I should just let it snow?”
She giggles. “You mean let it go?”
I’m well aware sound isn’t visible, much like the wind, but Rebecca’s laughter lights up the room, illuminating what felt like the start of a gloomy Christmas spent alone. I’d wondered what I’d done to deserve a lump of coal this year. Perhaps I’ll find something even better in my stocking yet.
I offer up a few more goofy puns the guys at the station would razz me for and Becca can’t help chuckling, practically spurting hot cocoa out her nose.
I could swim in the sound, rich like the chocolate in my mug. It’s partly because her laugh sounds genuine and not the polished, camera-ready one I’ve heard in her interviews. Yes, fine, I’ve seen a few of them. You know, to keep up with my best friend’s sister’s activities. No other reason.
But I am a bit surprised that she’s not entirely what I expect from a pop star.
Since recovering Pookie from her mad dash across the second floor—but anyone would be concerned about their little dog getting lost—no demands for special treatment and no diva attitude.
Just a woman with a puglet pugcess in a sparkly jacket who threw her phone out a window and drove into the mountains because she wanted a real Christmas.
The fact that Rebecca finds my terrible puns funny makes me smile inside and out.
“Seriously, though,” she says, sobering. “Won’t your family miss you?”
The question yanks on a little knot inside. I keep my voice steady and only say what’s necessary. “I won the station lottery to have Christmas off.”
“That’s great! So you—”
“But I was going to spend it alone, anyway.” The words come out blunt rather than with the excitement I had when I found out. “My mom passed away a few years ago. She was a single parent. It’s just me now.”
Rebecca’s fingers fly to her mouth. “Oh, Reese. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not, but ...” I shrug, unsure how to finish that sentence. “My roommate thinks frozen pizza is a major food group, so really, you’re saving me from a very sad Christmas dinner.”
“When you put it like that …” Her expression is soft, full of so much sympathy it brims in her eyes.
Just then, Noella appears beside our table, her Mrs. Claus outfit complete with jingling bells on her apron. “I couldn’t help but overhear that you two will be spending Christmas with us!”
“Looks that way,” I say.
“Wonderful!” Noella clasps her hands together. “We have so many activities planned for today. Here’s a schedule.” She slides a glossy brochure that looks like it was designed by elves on a sugar high across the table.
Rebecca takes it, her eyes widening as she scans the list.
Noella says, “Ugly sweatshirt making in thirty minutes, ornament painting at ten, tree decorating at one, carol singing at two, ice skating at three, gingerbread house competition at four. Plus, we have cookie decorating, dinner … take your pick or join us for all of it. Our merry mission is to make this your very best Christmas.”
Rebecca’s whole face glows. “This is exactly what I wished for. Well, not with that level of specificity, but I really wanted the perfect Christmas. The only thing missing are my parents, brother, and his family.”
“Unfortunately, the weather had other plans, but it’s snow joke, we make merry around here and will do our best to deck these halls and make your Christmas festive and bright,” Noella says.
Rebecca gifts us with more laughter.
“In for a penny, in for a pound of … coal,” I start, knowing that I shouldn’t be admiring her smile, how full her lips are, or the sparkle in her eyes.
“How about a pound of fudge?” Noella says as if my coal comment is heretical in a place as holly jolly as this.
I chuckle and Rebecca says, “After all, we have snow place to go.”
Noella leaves us with a chuckle to finish our hot cocoa.
However, I can’t quite fathom what just happened.
An hour ago, I was planning to grab a few hours of sleep before microwaving leftover Chinese food for breakfast, watching Elf on television per tradition, and looking through old photo albums. Now I’ve agreed to spend Christmas with my best friend’s little sister—the woman I truly didn’t have a crush on growing up.
Did not.
Still don’t.
Mostly.
Maybe?
A memory I haven’t thought about in years drops into my mind like Santa through the chimney. “I spent Christmas with your family once. It must’ve been at least fifteen years ago.”
Rebecca’s eyes light up with recognition. “The year the heater broke at your apartment!”
“And your mom insisted we come over.” The memory warms me more than the crackling fire.
“I remember the two of them spent half the day baking and laughing like best friends.”
“Your dad tried to teach me how to carve the ham, and I nearly took off my thumb.”
“Mom made you wear that apron with the reindeer on it.”
“I still have it.”
“You do not.”
“I absolutely do. Your mom gave it to me that night. Said I was part of the family.” I smile at the memory of Mrs. Rivers, her laugh, her kindness, and imagine that she misses Rebecca a ton. “I plan to wear it at the bakery next year.”
“I bet the customers will love it.”
“That was a good Christmas.”
“Christmas with my family is the best,” she says softly, sadly. Then she straightens, determination crossing her features. “Okay. We’re doing this. All of it. Every single activity on this list.”
“Even the caroling?” I ask, sensing she doesn’t want to draw attention to herself.
“Especially the caroling.” She stands up, Pookie still cradled in her arms. “First, I need to take this princess outside before she has an accident on Noella’s green and red carpet.”
“I’ll come with you.”
She looks down at her attire. “And I desperately need to change out of this dress.”
We head outside, and the brisk air hits like a frost wall.
Snow falls in thick, steady flakes, painting everything white.
The lake in the distance and the evergreen trees look like one of the puzzles my mom used to keep on the table in the den this time of year.
She’d turn on Christmas music and we’d pick away every night after dinner—at least, when I wasn’t at hockey practice.
Rebecca tilts her face up to the sky, catching snowflakes on her tongue. “I love snow, winter. This is so not Los Angeles weather. Not even New York.” I take that to mean she has homes in both places.
“Even for this part of Nevada, a storm this severe is rare.”
She turns to me, cheeks pink from the cold. “Sometimes I just want to escape to the mountains like this.”
“Merry mission accomplished,” I say, echoing Noella’s words.
Rebecca sets Pookie down, and the dog immediately tries to climb back up her legs. “Come on, Pooks. You can do it.”
“I imagine you can escape for a weekend anywhere you’d like—I hear there are mountains on every continent.”
She chuckles and then goes quiet for a moment, watching Pookie reluctantly venture into the snow. “I mean, sometimes I want to escape permanently. Live a quiet life. Bake pies, knit scarves, see the seasons change.”
I watch the way the snowflakes catch in her auburn hair as her expression grows wistful. She’s beautiful, and I’m noticing, which is a problem because she’s Brady’s sister and a world-famous pop star and completely out of my league.
Focus, Marchiano.
With kind, yet teasing laughter, I say, “The picture you painted sounds a bit like your mom—and I mean that as a compliment.”
She nods slowly as if to agree and to say she’s not joking. “I always wanted to get out of town, remember? Couldn’t wait to see the world, make something of myself.”
“And now?”
“Now I’ve seen the world, and while it’s great, it’s also not all it’s cracked up to be.
At least the way I’ve experienced it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been blessed beyond measure, but sometimes I wonder if I was already blessed.
Does that make sense? Sorry. I’m rambling.
” She scoops up Pookie, who’s decided the snow is her mortal enemy, her little legs paddling as if she’s galloping through the air, desperate to return to the warm lodge.
I’m surprised to hear Rebecca admitting this, to me of all people. “I suppose the grass isn’t always greener, but the snow is definitely whiter.”
She laughs again. “I forgot how much I love it. True winters. Real life. Small towns where people actually know each other.”
We head back inside, stamping snow off our feet. The warmth of the inn envelops us, along with the scent of pine and cinnamon and something sweet wafting from the kitchen.
“First activity starts in thirty minutes,” Noella calls out. “Ugly sweatshirt decorating in the game room!”
Rebecca looks down at herself—still in the sparkly gown. “I need to find something else to wear.”
“Gift shop,” I suggest, pointing to the small store off the lobby. “They’ve got Timber’s Edge merchandise. Probably something to keep you warm.”
“Perfect.” She turns to leave, then pauses. “Meet you in the game room?”
“I’ll be there.”
I watch her head toward the gift shop, Pookie trotting beside her, and shake my head.
This is going to be the strangest and possibly merriest Christmas of my life.