Another Christmas in Watch Hill : A Small Town Romance by Sara Celi & S Celi

Author:Sara Celi & S Celi [Celi, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lowe Interactive Media, LLC
Published: 2021-10-10T22:00:00+00:00

EIGHT

PETRA

“I bet it was him,” my sister Alicia said over our weekly Facetime call. “The guy in the apartment upstairs. He has to be the one who cleared your car.”

“Graham.”

“That’s his name? Graham?” My sister sighed. “That’s a good name. What a relief.”

I laughed. “It’s not bad.”

“So, it was Graham who cleared your car.”

“Probably.” I sipped some of my bold red wine that I’d poured after coming home. I sank farther into the couch. “He’s the likely one, but— why would he do something like that, and not tell me?”

“Maybe he’s shy.”

I considered this. “Doesn’t seem like it to me. He’s the life of Sam’s Deli—you should see it. He’s always talking to the customers, making jokes . . . He’s not shy at all.”

Alicia laughed. “You actually sound somewhat . . . happy.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, which has been rare this year.”

“I know. I just took it all . . . I took it all really hard.”

I was much closer to my grandma that Alicia, and we had a special bond strengthened by a shared loved of regency romances, French red wine, and vintage cookbooks. I’d never be able to have a cup of Earl Grey tea again without thinking of her. And while I knew she was getting older and time was limited, her death tore out a piece of my heart. The rest—the runaway cat, the move, the isolation—only made the grief burn deeper.

“What he did was nice,” I added, wanting nothing more than to change the subject. “Helpful.”

“That’s one of the best parts of the Christmas season. People don’t have to be super religious to feel the magic of the last few weeks of the year. They just have to let it wash over them.”

She was right. Even me—even in the middle of what felt like a low point of my failure-to-launch, down-in-the-dumps year. Christmas was almost here, and I needed to be more thankful for the things I had, the gifts I’d been given. I needed to let myself feel the Christmas spirit too.

“I’m going to get off here,” I announced. “I have a few things I have to take care of before I go to bed. I’ll send you the money tonight for Mom and Dad’s gift.”

“Tracking says the quilt will be here tomorrow.” Alicia held up two crossed fingers. “Hoping that holds true because we won’t have time to order another one.”

“I’m sure it will be great.”

I was glad my sister was so organized, and that she always had great ideas for gifts. My low-grade, nearly yearlong depression made me procrastinate on the gift for my parents, and I hated that. Next year, I’m going to get all my Christmas shopping done before December 1. Next year . . .

Always next year.

We wrapped up our conversation and ended the call. Once I put down the phone, I stood from the couch and headed to my small kitchen. It didn’t take long before I had everything I needed in front of me—two bowls, an egg, flour,

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