A Shoe Addict's Christmas by Beth Harbison

Author:Beth Harbison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

Chapter 5

“Are you sure you won’t come?” Maura pleaded.

They were off and running on another rewriting of history. Noelle was aware of it—she was looking right at the cloppy shoes that seemed to be magically taking her through time—but she was utterly powerless against it. She had to go along for the ride.

“Are you sure you won’t come?”

Guilt tightened inside Noelle. She couldn’t do this to her friend. She couldn’t do it to Maura’s parents, who had bought the extra ticket so that her daughter could take a friend along. She knew it was stupid and selfish to suggest that Maura take someone else at the last minute; she was only trying to get herself off the hook.

Well, she’d said she’d go, and she was going to do it.

Even though she really, really didn’t want to.

“I’m sorry, Maura,” she said. Then, because it sounded like she was refusing, she quickly added, “Of course I’ll go. It’s just a little headache. I’ll take some Tylenol, and I’m sure I’ll be fine later.”

“Oh, thank God!” Maura sounded genuinely relieved. “My parents would have killed me if I’d wasted that ticket!”

For a moment, Noelle envied her the parents who might get mad. The parents who had made plans and allowed her to invite a friend along. The parents who were parents—plural—and neither of them had ever died or left. The feeling she had wasn’t just laziness about going, or a homebody’s impulse to stay in and mope; it was jealousy.

It was mostly fear, but there was an element of jealousy. Like, if there was an emergency, that family would group together, but who would be there for her?

Silly, she knew, but that’s how she thought.

That night, as the small dinner-cruise ship Esworthy glided out of the dock, Noelle was very glad she was on board. This was no huge Titanic ship, rocking on the ocean (of course). It was just like an average-size restaurant with a lobby, dinner tables, elaborate restrooms, and a pretty large band on a very small stage.

They were playing “Jingle Bells” as Noelle and company walked into the room, and she was immediately in a more festive mood. It was hard to argue with the fun of dashing through the snow, and all but impossible to ignore the forced cheer of the décor.

The walls were a dark cream color with lots of gold touches—gilded trim, gilded paisley tapestries held back with golden ropes and tassels. Holly circled every sconce, flickering candles glittered on all the tables, and mistletoe hung strategically here and there, in places where people were likely to stop and talk.

In the air there was a scent of fresh pine, so deliciously strong that it had to be piped in artificially. But a surprisingly balmy breeze blew in every time someone opened the door to come in from outside, and the scent of the river, along with the pine, was a heady combination.

The view outside was even more beautiful than the one inside, if possible, and Maura

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