Holiday for HIre(22)
A memory came back to her of lying beneath him, close to the brink, as he paused in his motions for a second, just long enough to smile at her and brush a piece of hair back from her cheek .
Well. Maybe not for nothing .
And then she wanted to slam her hand down all over again. How dare he be so mean to her when they’d shared such a wonderful moment? All she’d wanted was for her dinner night to be wonderful too. She was not going to be made to feel guilty about sharing with him her disappointment .
And the more she thought about it, the more she felt resolved, even with the tears streaming down her cheeks. Maybe she’d just blow the whole thing off. She wasn’t going to Blake and Andy’s wedding—where guests and their rich, famous dates ‘coptered in— alone .
She really shouldn’t have played into this whole thing to begin with .
She shouldn’t have let her emotions run away and RSVP yes. She shouldn’t have formed a Facebook group. She shouldn’t have trolled the internet to find a date she could sculpt into what she needed. And she most certainly should not have developed feelings for him .
Friend feelings, nothing more. But feelings all the same .
No, the most reasonable course of action would have been to deny Blake Stupid Donovan the satisfaction of a response at all. Then this whole Ian fiasco would never have taken place .
So that settled it. She couldn’t erase what had happened, but she could fix the future. She simply would not go to the wedding. In the morning, first thing, she’d send the gift she’d bought them—a gaudy gravy boat from their wedding registry at Macy’s (Macy’s?! Must have been Andy’s idea)—along with a note of regret .
As for now, she was going to brew a nice cup of peppermint tea, polish off the last cookie, and go to bed with her head held high .
Jane felt amazing .
9
J ane felt terrible.
She’d had four hot chocolates today alone—two of them spiked—and even that hadn’t been enough to pull her from her stupor. What was wrong with the world ?
She had a feeling her melancholy had to do with Ian and her party since it began to fester in her that night as she’d lain awake in bed. But she couldn’t understand exactly what about that was continuing to make her so miserable. She’d really thought she’d worked all of that out. She didn’t need him for the wedding now that she wasn’t going, so that wasn’t it. It was possible that she could be lamenting the fact that he’d given such a poor impression at her dinner, but, really, the Ladies and what they thought of her barely seemed of interest at the moment .
Besides, Tinsley had texted her twice to assure her the party had been a blast. Jane hadn’t realized the woman was such a kind friend before. No, it wasn’t the dinner .
Jane thought, instead, that her misery might have to do with Ian himself. With the words exchanged between the two of them, because every time she let her mind replay the events of their last encounter, something stabbed cruelly inside her—above her gut and under her upper ribs. Kind of in the general area of her heart .
Yet she still couldn’t figure out why .
Yes, she’d said some pretty harsh things to him. But it wasn’t as if they hadn’t been true things. She’d been on the right side of the argument, and it had been her general experience that being right usually tended to produce happier emotions .
Maybe she was coming down with something. The flu. Or mono. It was called the kissing disease for a reason, after all, and she and Ian had done an awful lot of kissing .
For some reason that thought made the stabbing more intense .
Was severe internal chest spasms a symptom of mono? Google said no, but there were those who always said not to believe everything you read on the internet, though it did sort of seem like the people who said that only bought into it when doing so was beneficial to their argument .
In this case, she had to concede that Google was probably correct .
Still, there had to be a reason she felt morose and despondent during her most favorite time of the year. Seasonal Affective Disorder? Surely that wouldn’t just come on one morning after years of winter joy .
She couldn’t believe there were only two more boxes to open on her Advent calendar. Two more sleeps until the glorious day itself. Usually she’d be beside herself with excitement, spending every last minute wrapped in Christmas festivity .
Maybe that was it! She wasn’t being festive enough !
She’d spent so much time prepping and priming Ian that she hadn’t had a chance to fully involve herself with the activities of the season. Sitting around moping the past several days had likely only made the situation worse. And if that was the problem, then the solution was obvious—she just needed to celebrate more. Needed to keep wrapping and baking and caroling and Christmas-ing. Needed to grab the holiday by its antlers and take it for a ride .
Since she was still in her pajamas—yes, it was four pm, but there was no one around to judge her for it—and since she was more than a little bit tipsy, she decided to attack the festivity-ing with a little less gusto. Like, maybe she could put on a movie .
Yes, that was an excellent idea !
A fun, happy, feel-good Christmas standard was bound to raise her spirits. And she knew just the one to watch, too .
She took another sip from her most recent cup of cocoa, wiping away the whipped cream mustache it left on her upper lip before getting up off her couch to find her DVD of It’s a Wonderful Life , her most favorite movie of the season .