Can I Tell You Something?: A holiday novella by Holly June Smith

Author:Holly June Smith [Smith, Holly June]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-11-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Hannah

Lunch at The Marmot marks the start of the Richmond family Christmas traditions, and nobody is much inclined to keep skiing when we could be chilling out, eating, drinking, playing games, or taking afternoon naps as the night draws in.

Dad and I, however, have much more important plans.

“Hannah and I are off to do the big shop,” he calls out to the entire house. “Anyone joining us?”

“No, boring,” Ryan yells back from his bedroom. He’s always preferred his food be delivered as directly to his mouth as possible. Doesn’t care where it comes from or how it was made.

I, on the other hand, have year round dreams about French supermarkets. I picture myself roaming the aisles, filling my trolley with cheese, bread, and cured meats. I live for jars of rose petal jam, pistachio cream, and whipped hazelnut spread. And the crisps. Don’t even get me started on the crisps. French crisp flavours are elite.

“I’ll be spending the afternoon in the hot tub with a Nora Roberts secret baby romance if anyone needs me,” Mum says, appearing in her bathrobe. Her Nora Roberts obsession was my gateway into romance novels, though the secret baby trope doesn’t do it for me, personally.

“You want to come and see what the fuss is all about?” Dad asks Cameron, who is sitting at the dining table with his laptop.

“I have a bit of work to finish before tomorrow,” he replies. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Suit yourself,” Dad says.

Once Dad’s back is turned, Cam blows a kiss in my direction, and I catch it in the air and smack it to my mouth like the sappiest, most love-drunk girl on the planet.

Truthfully, I’m glad he’s staying behind. The pre-Christmas Big Shop has always been a Dad and me thing, even when I was a little girl. It’s a twenty-minute drive down the mountain to the nearest town with a large supermarket and over the years we’ve accumulated a few traditions of our own. We sing along to the local radio station on the winding drive, a mix of songs in French and Christmas classics you’d hear in the UK too.

When my grandma was still with us we used her ancient deathtrap of a car, but we scrapped it after she died, and not a moment too soon. Dad now hires one at the airport, some heavy duty Land Rover type thing with snow tyres, heated seats, and that new car smell. And most importantly, plenty of space for all our shopping.

I ignore my phone on the drive in favour of the view, acutely aware of the fact that as my workload picks up, I might be in the same position as Ryan, unable to make it back for these trips every year. Up until now, they’ve always been a given, a privilege afforded to people with time off work, and parents who’ll pay for the airfare. If I want to progress, I’ll be expected to work all the hours of the day to prove my worth.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.