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But inside, I hadn’t put out any decorations. There was no hint of holiday cheer in the lobby. I didn’t even place candy cane-scented candles around like I had in previous years.
“The baby isn’t head down, and they are sealed up tight inside. You’re in fine shape for the festival.”
“Not fair.” I pouted.
It’s not that I didn’t want to help with the Christmas festival. It’s that I didn’t want to do anything.
Instead of going home to the inn after my appointment, I headed over to the library to find Evie. I needed her company and distractions more and more as my due date grew closer.
The distractions were the whole reason I volunteered to help out with the festival as it was. If I could keep my mind and hands occupied, then maybe I wouldn’t think about Miles. At least that was the plan.
Unfortunately, I thought about Miles every day. Some days, I thought of ways that I could strangle him, or travel back in timeand prevent myself from falling for his charms. Other times, I just missed him so bad my heart hurt and my whole body ached.
The community room at the library had been turned into a giant crafting center where people could come in and volunteer to create the decorations we would use during the festival. Tables were placed around the room as craft stations. Each craft station was stocked with various art supplies for specific projects. Next to each table was a large box where people could place their completed items.
I found that I was spending a lot of my free time here. I was surprised to find that the hands-on aspect of crafting helped to clear my mind. I found a moment of peace while I glued and cut and sprinkled glitter on my creations. The crafts kept my hands and my mind busy, and while I was creating decorations, I didn’t think about Miles at all.
And Miles was all that I seemed to be thinking about. Him and the impending birth of our child.
Getting through the holidays was harder than I had anticipated. I couldn’t help but wonder what this Christmas would have been like if I hadn’t found out he was JM Carlisle and he was just the Miles I had fallen for? Handsome, kind, and capable.
What would the inn look like? Would he have helped me to decorate it? Would he have gone out and cut down the Christmas tree himself to help me decorate the lobby? Would he mind the front desk while I baked cookies?
What would a cozy Christmas with him look like? How would it feel? I wanted what I couldn’t have.
I sat at one of the craft stations I hadn’t tried out before. I needed to get Miles out of my head. I needed the crafting tohelp. I picked up a giant Styrofoam ball. It was easily the size of my head. There was a spool of fat, green ribbon. Using straight pins, I secured the ribbon onto the ball and began wrapping the ribbon around using push pins as needed to secure it in place.
I wrapped and pinned and followed the instructions. Maybe I needed to find a hand craft to take up. How hard was knitting? Or that other one, crochet? That looked more complicated. At least knitting made sense to me with two needles. I couldn’t exactly figure out on my own how a single hook could do anything. Or maybe I should take up sewing? I brushed that thought aside. Sewing machines were expensive and I would need lessons. I wanted something I could either figure out on my own or find some online videos to teach me.
I admired my handiwork. I wasn’t half bad at this handmade ornament making. When it was finished, it would look like a giant tree ornament that would be strung up with various paper chain garlands and other handmade decorations.
Our theme for the festival was ‘A Home-Grown Christmas.’ Since the Historical Society was the main sponsor, we wanted to keep everything old-fashioned with homemade decorations. Partially driven by a need to be cost effective and low-budget, the handmade decorations were chosen to also increase community involvement.
The decorations didn’t need to be sturdy. They only needed to last an afternoon. But we still wanted people to have fun and enjoy themselves.
“I see you are making more decorations. How was the appointment?” Evie asked as she wandered into the community room, a couple of books in her hands.
“Baby still has its legs crossed. And the physician’s assistant said I’m still on target for an early January due date.”
“That’s good then, right? That gives you more time to be prepared.”
“I’m as prepared as I’ll ever be,” I admitted. “I have baby clothes. I have more than enough diapers. I’ve been making extra meals and freezing them so that I have food prepped and ready. All I need now is to have this kid.”
“Hush or the baby will hear you.” Evie leaned over my stomach. “Don’t listen to your mom. Stay right there. I need her to help get me through this festival. As soon as the festival is over, then you can come out. In the meantime, just hang out there.”
“Do you really think the baby is going to listen to you?”
“Of course, the baby is going to listen to me. I’m the cool auntie,” she said. “The baby isn’t going to listen to you. You’re Mom.”
I was more than ready to have her be the really cool auntie to my kid. She saw me smile and laugh with her. She didn’t see when I couldn’t hold a happy expression and it was too much work to even frown. I stopped letting her see my real feelings about this pregnancy and about Miles a couple of months ago, when she started to get too worried about me.
She didn’t need to be worried about me. I was tough. I could do this, but it didn’t mean that I wasn’t going to be sad about it or that I wasn’t going to wish that Miles were here with me, making everything easier.
32
MILES
“Donald White is on the line for you,” my assistant called through the intercom.