Chapter 77
The scent of hearty potato chowder filled the kitchen. “McKenna?” Bobbi’s voice called out from the living room. “I’m heading over to a friend’s house to watch a movie. We’ll probably grab some dinner, too, so don’t worry about saving me any soup.”
“Sounds good,” McKenna called back from where she was seated at the kitchen table, rereading Nate’s poetry notebook for the thousandth time. “Be careful driving in the snow.”
They’d gotten their first snowfall a few days ago, right after Thanksgiving.
Even though McKenna usually waited for December to start decorating for Christmas, the three inches of white covering the ground had skyrocketed her into the holiday mood.
She’d spent the past few afternoons putting up the tree, hanging garland on the stair banister, and decorating the foyer and fireplace mantle—and figuring out what to do about the email she’d received from Tricia and Guy Scampy’s publicist a little over a week ago.
Hi McKenna,
I know this is several months after the fact, but I just wanted to reach out and say how pleased Tricia and Guy were with the photos you took at The Happy Hiccup B&B event.
They can’t stop raving about how special the night was for them, and now I have other clients in the Nashville area who are interested in working with you as well.
Not sure where you’re located right now, but I hope to hear back from you.
I’d love to work together. Maybe even plan another event or two at The Happy Hiccup this coming summer? ??
McKenna didn’t know what to do with that email, so she’d done the only thing she could do—go all out with the Christmas decorations after finally working up the courage to tell Mr. Sullivan three mornings ago what she should have told him months ago.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not taking over your studio.
Not now. Not ever. As grateful as I’ll always be for everything you’ve done for me, I think it’s time for me to move on. ”
The soup bubbled on the stove. McKenna noticed the front door hadn’t slammed shut yet. When nothing but Nat King Cole’s voice singing about chestnuts and roasting fires lingered, McKenna twisted in her chair to find Bobbi standing in the kitchen doorway. “Something wrong?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Bobbi stepped forward, her gaze lingering on Nate’s notebook.
McKenna flipped it closed. “I’m fine.”
“You’ve been crying again.”
“I haven’t been crying. I’ve just been . . .” McKenna lifted a shoulder. “A little watery. This time of year always makes me like that.”
“You’ve been a little watery ever since we got back from Tennessee. The only time you’re not watery is when Nate visits.”
“Not true.” Okay, a little bit true. McKenna ran her finger along the spirals of the notebook. “Guess I just never imagined finding a guy who likes me as much as Nate seems to.”
“Seems to? McKenna, he adores you. And it’s obvious you’re head over heels for him. What I don’t understand is why you’re making yourself miserable being apart from him when . . .”
Bobbi’s words faded as she stared at McKenna the next several seconds in silence. Then with a sigh, she unzipped her coat, tossed it over the back of the chair next to McKenna, and rounded the table to sink into the seat across from her. “It’s because of me, isn’t it?”
When McKenna met her gaze, Bobbi nodded as if McKenna had spoken. “I’m holding you back.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” McKenna reached for her hand. “You’re my sister, and—”
“Exactly. I’m your sister. I get that you’ve practically raised me. You’ve been my steady rock for as long as I can remember, but . . .” Bobbi softened her words with a smirk. “Don’t you think it’s time to cut the umbilical cord? Maybe let me have your back for once?”
“Oh, so now all of a sudden you’re Ms. Independent, are you?”
“I will be. Once you get out of my hair.” Bobbi kicked off her boots and stood. “Ready for some soup?”
“I thought you were going over to a friend’s house.”
“Pretty sure we have more important things to discuss here this evening. Starting with . . . well, something I’ve realized for a while now that I needed to say. I just wasn’t sure how to say it.” She blew out a breath. “I owe you an apology.”
“For what?”
Bobbi grabbed two bowls. “I’ve been taking you for granted for years.”
“You were just a kid most of those years.”
“Well, I’m not a kid now,” she said, ladling soup into each bowl.
“I’m engaged to be married. Not too long from now I may be having kids of my own.
Trust me, I’m not a kid anymore. But I do owe you an apology for acting like one when we were in Tennessee.
I was terrible. I didn’t even consider what was going on between you and Nate when I begged you to come back to Nebraska.
I was so freaked out about the idea of Oliver breaking up with me, I couldn’t even think straight.
” She set a bowl in front of McKenna and slid into the seat next to her.
“You weren’t terrible. You were tired.” McKenna picked up her spoon. “And okay, terrible. You were sort of that, too.”
They both shared a laugh, digging into their soup.
“Go see him, McKenna. He’s more than proven how much he cares about you. Don’t you think it’s time to prove it to him? At least go see him for Christmas.”
“I’m not leaving you alone for Christmas. Besides, he’s visiting here right after Christmas.”
“I’ve got friends. Plus Oliver and I already have a schedule for when we’ll FaceTime and play Scrabble together. I’m not going to be sitting around twiddling my thumbs. Don’t worry about that. Just go see him.”
McKenna swirled her spoon in her bowl. She supposed she could take a peek at plane ticket prices once she finished eating. She knew Nate missed her. And don’t even get her started on how badly she missed him.
“What? What is it? I can tell you’re thinking something by the way you’re biting your lip. What aren’t you telling me?”
McKenna stopped chewing her bottom lip and met Bobbi’s narrowed gaze.
“I’m thinking that if I fly to Bugle this Christmas, there’s a good chance I won’t be coming back.
I got an email last week, and let’s just say I’m pretty sure I’ve got a job waiting for me there if I want it.
One I’d really like to pursue. All I have to do is say yes. ”
“Well, then.” Bobbi dropped her head on McKenna’s shoulder. “Sounds like it may be time for you to say yes.”