Page 49 of One Vow

“I’m not a quitter. Our ship sailed. We forgot to board. It happens. Now he’s marrying someone else. And I’m going to move on.” The words felt big. The idea bigger, but the truth was nothing more than a sliver of it. Because at that moment, all I wanted to do was spend the rest of my life remembering the eleven best days of my youth and the week I got to spend with him as an adult. But I didn’t want pity or blind dates or third-wheel dinners.

And so, the lie became necessary. And we both knew it.

“Any prospects on the horizon?” Her voice had just enough hope in it to make me feel pathetic and more than a little defensive because no, there were no prospects on the horizon. There never were. Chances were, there never would be either. But I couldn’t tell her that without enticing the blind date brigade into action.

She smiled at me, and I cleared my throat. It was as if she was daring me to tell my fib.

“Well, no.” And I just wasn’t up to it. “He just left today. Wasn’t a lot of time to swipe right.”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “So, you’ll be moping for…a couple months before I should rally the single guys in town?”

She grinned, but she was serious. This wasn’t a new road, and she’d helped me survive it last time. And because she was a real friend, who’d seen me through all the big heartaches in my life, she didn’t sugarcoat anything. She knew me. “Or do you plan to go full-on old maid now?”

“I told him to go.” And regrets did no good. Although I had them aplenty, and as someone who knew me so well, she cocked an eyebrow. “Fine. Give me a month, tops. Then I’ll find a guy and go on a date. We’ll get married. Have kids. You can be Auntie Sofia. We’ll get a dog. Just let me have a month of peace.”

We lived in a college town. People rotated in and out. Of course, most of them were a lot younger than me now. But maybe Dad knew a nice, kind of cool, hipster professor I could see. This time, I would give it a fair try. Maybe something good would come of it. Or maybe I’d end up the crazy cat lady.

I was happy Sofia had Dakota. That they were so in love made me, not jealous, but happy for them, and I understood that she wanted everyone to feel the same joy she felt, but I needed some wallowing time. A few days to cry it out, then a few more to pull it together, then a few weeks to get some direction, and spruce myself up so I didn’t send any prospective date running for cover.

Most of the townies, the common moniker the non-college students who lived in Glouster shared, were out enjoying the festivities. Mr. and Mrs. Duncan along with their brood of four toddlers from ages one to four were waiting for a carriage ride. The Danes sisters, Ora and Olla, were handing out candy canes to everyone they passed, and I had to wonder how deep Ora’s purse went because her entire arm disappeared inside for every piece of candy she went in after. Captain Jack, local police, was manning the reindeer petting station. For a second, I considered him. He was in his late thirties with a smattering of gray strands of hair mixed in with the coal black at his temples, his face was angular and chiseled. Handsome. And single. If ever I moved past my broken heart, maybe…

Then there was Coren Lee, the pride of Glouster. She had a singing show on local cable that aired every Sunday morning and featured her singing and dancing to the latest Top Forty hits. Probably violated about a hundred copyright laws or whatever covered music rights, but she was so cute and so bubbly no one dared mention things as trivial as the law.

This town was full of people I’d come to love and care about. People who’d taken me in and let me be a part of something. No way could I leave here, and Finn had a life in California he’d built for himself. Maybe it was better to leave everything as it was, fond memories of a time when life was simpler and more complicated.

And speaking of people I loved, an arm slipped around my shoulder as Dad leaned in. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

I smiled then quirked a brow. Dad hadn’t walked up to me alone. He was with Professor Masterson. Leah Masterson. I knew her vaguely. Too vaguely for her to look up at my dad with one arm around his waist and one laid on his chest. We were in public for goodness sake.

“Fliss, you know Professor Masterson.”

She held out her hand. “Please, call me Leah.”

Ah right, Professor Masterson. I nodded, on the wrong side of stunned. “Yeah. Good to see you again.”

She’d been my English professor. I cocked a brow at Dad and saw the smile, the slight strain of color on his cheeks, the body language tilting toward her. After thirty years without a woman other than a daughter in his life, my dad had a girlfriend. And a good daughter would’ve been happy for them.

I was not such a daughter. “So…”

I nodded to Leah. My question, should I call her Mommy, communicated through a stare. His reply, time will tell, and I hope so, came back with a smile.

Dad chuckled. “We’ll see you girls tonight?”

Sofia, who’d previously decided to spend this evening with her man, nodded like an uncontrollable bobblehead doll. “You bet. We’re so there.”

“Good. See you tonight.” He winked. My. Dad. Winked. Then he walked away, with a woman, like it was as natural as his breathing. But my mom ran off just after I was born, and I had never seen my dad so much as smile at another woman. There was nothing normal about him being with a woman.

And we would’ve had a discussion about it, because I needed to discuss it, needed to hear myself say how happy I was for him, to try it out and make sure it was true. Because if anyone deserved happiness, it was my dad. And I didn’t want to ruin this for him, so if I couldn’t honestly be happy, and I wasn’t sure if I could or couldn’t, I at least needed Sofia to help me figure out how to fake it.

But Sofia’s phone buzzed and she frowned at the screen, then turned away to answer. “Hello?” She spoke with quiet tentativeness so foreign to her naturally bubbly self, I chuckled. “Um, yes. But…I’m at the festival…”

She paused, looked at me, then drew her gaze away. She’d gone from nervous to downright shifty. “Yes…until 7 pm…”

There was something strange going on, but the line at the Santa hut had grown, and I had to get back. I waved and left her to her conversation. Talking about Dad would just have to wait, or I would have to figure out how to deal with it myself. Which I would because Dad deserved the same support he’d always given me.

Decision made, I walked back to the hut. Then it was three more hours of ho-ho-hos, peppermint candy, and wish lists that contained everything from Play-doh to hoverboards and all the little do-dads and what-nots in between.

Finally, 7 o’clock rolled around, and it was time to close up. The crowd had dwindled to almost nothing, and I picked up my bag from behind Santa’s chair.