Chapter 33
Lauren tapped the last period on her thank-you text to Helen and pressed send.
Pumpkin climbed into her lap in the back seat of the car that was taking them to the airport. The little dog turned in a circle before settling against Lauren’s stomach, her fur soft beneath Lauren’s hand.
Lauren looked outside for one last glimpse of Newport. She loved the narrow streets and brick sidewalks. The shops still had wreaths hanging on their doors. Places that, only a few days earlier had been unfamiliar, now felt like home.
“Did you have a nice visit, miss?” the driver asked, catching her eye in the rearview mirror.
“Fabulous,” Lauren replied.
“It’s a beautiful area. We’re very proud of it.”
“Newport is gorgeous,” she said. “But what made my visit so special was the people.”
The driver smiled. “I’m proud to hear it.” He paused before asking, “What was the favorite part of your stay?”
Lauren bit her lower lip, thinking. The evening of caroling had been magical—unexpected and joyful—but the Christmas Day potluck at Helen’s house had moved her in a way she hadn’t expected.
She had been nervous when she and Pumpkin climbed Helen’s front steps.
Standing on the porch, she’d almost turned around.
But the moment the door opened, a swirl of warmth pulled her in, with laughter, music, the smell of Helen’s freshly cut pine tree, and people greeting her as if she’d always belonged there.
Within minutes, the roomful of strangers had felt like chosen family.
She pulled herself back to the present. “I’m trying to decide,” she said thoughtfully, “between caroling with the merchants’ association or the Christmas Day potluck I attended.”
The driver chuckled. “You must be the soprano everyone’s been talking about.”
Lauren flushed.
“My wife is good friends with Helen,” he explained. “She said everyone wants to adopt you. They’re hoping you’ll come back to sing again next year.”
Lauren swallowed against the sudden tightness in her throat. “I promised my sister I’d spend Christmas with her family next year,” she replied. “But I’m very flattered.”
“If things change,” the driver said kindly, “keep us in mind. You’ll always be welcome.”
You’ll always be welcome. The words echoed in Lauren’s mind.
Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. This was what was missing in Los Angeles.
She had Kathy. And a thriving business. But, after her husband died, the larger circle of her life had quietly collapsed.
The couples she and her husband once socialized with had drifted away.
They hadn’t done it intentionally, just inevitably.
Lauren had no partner to complete the pair.
She and Kathy had launched K + L Interiors, and Lauren had thrown herself into the business with relentless focus.
The company flourished, and she credited that work with helping her survive the grief.
What she hadn’t realized was that something essential had disappeared along the way.
These last few days had shown her she craved belonging to a community again.
Hadn’t Kathy been telling her that for months? “You need a hobby,” her sister had also said. “Something you love that isn’t work. Or walking Pumpkin.”
The car climbed onto the bridge leaving Newport Harbor as the winter sun glinted off the steel-gray water of Narragansett Bay.
Lauren stroked Pumpkin absently, her fingers moving through the dog’s velvety fur.
The weather forecast was clear across the country.
With luck, she’d be home in Los Angeles before dinner.
She’d be behind at work, of course. There would be emails, deadlines, and clients waiting for ideas.
But she wouldn’t fall back into her old habit of working late every night until she caught up.
It was time for something different. Start as you mean to carry on.
Wasn’t that what her grandmother always said?
She would go to the office in the morning, and she and Pumpkin would leave by five.
Every day. Pumpkin sighed and shifted in her lap.
Lauren bent and whispered into her ear, “We’re not staying late at the office anymore.
I promise.” She buried her nose in Pumpkin’s warm, doggy-smelling coat. “And I’m going to try new things.”
Lauren sat up straight—as an idea hit her—and pulled out her phone.
“Case in point,” she muttered, “I’m going to that New Year’s Eve party Kathy’s friend throws every year.
The one I always decline.” She found the Evite in her inbox and scrolled down to the RSVP button.
She wasn’t too late. Her thumb hovered for only a moment. Then she tapped Yes. “There,” she said.
Pumpkin lifted her head and yawned.
Lauren smiled. Next year is going to be a happier one, she thought.
I loved being married, and I’d love to find a partner again someday.
She looked out the window at the winter light stretching across the snow-covered trees along the highway.
“But in the meantime,” she whispered, “I’m going to be happy on my own. ”