Eight Birds for Christmas by Tara Mayoros

Author:Tara Mayoros [Mayoros, Tara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Astraea Press, LLC
Published: 2014-12-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Andi stood and reached for her mug of wassail. “Would you like some more?” Laidan jumped out of her reverie. “I think I’ll go take some to Kort. It looks freezing out there.”

“I’m okay. Thanks,” Laidan said as she reached for Andi’s hand. “I love these birds so much. I knew you were very talented, but I had no idea you could do this. My mother would have adored these,” she said as the tears welled in her eyes. “It feels like Christmas morning!”

“Well, I did have a lot of inspiration. Your mother was the most amazing woman I have ever met. She was always so strong and wise.” Andi smiled then walked toward the door leading outside. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Laidan flipped the bird over and over in her palms. It was the size of a baseball and the craftsmanship impressed her. The lights from the Christmas tree flickered against the shiny glaze. Stunning.

Kort snuck in to retrieve a blanket and Laidan watched as he went outside and sat beside Andi on the porch swing. A winter storm now raged around them and the lights on the water were all gone. It warmed her heart that those two were becoming fast friends. Watching them laugh together on the swing, she thought it might be growing into something more.

Laidan wished she had a boyfriend. Many Hollywood actors had taken her on a date, but she never really connected with any of them. The short relationship with a drummer named Colton had died. That had been before she became famous. The depressing thing about it all was that she had more boyfriends in high school, when she considered herself a music nerd, than she ever did now that millions of people knew her name.

She sighed and stared at the Christmas tree. A log in the fireplace cracked in half and tiny sparks danced around the room like little fireflies as it spread apart and smoldered against the grate.

After a long time her eyelids became heavy. It had been a long day. She yawned and looked beneath the tree. Three more birds remained. In the morning, she thought as she shuffled to her mother’s bed and collapsed into the huge pile of blankets. She had survived this day.

She closed her eyelids and the loneliness began to creep in like a shadow. How would she ever find a man who could look past her fame? That is another sacrifice in which the music industry seemed to steal from her. Love, did it ever really exist for people like her? Was she destined to be another headline of failed relationships? How could she even trust men again after the exposed second life her father had led? The hole in her heart grew as she watched the snow fall outside the window. So this is what she had to look forward to this Christmas. Blizzards of fans, snowstorms of past memories, and icy loneliness.

Shivering, she hid further beneath the blankets, rubbing her cold feet together.

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