Page 27 of A Cozy Kind of Christmas

TWENTY-FOUR

MEG

Meg stumbled away from the food tent. Her limbs suddenly felt weak and limp.

Matt and Lucinda were getting engaged?

Tonight?

Crap.

Pressure spread across her chest. She almost forgot to breathe as she searched for an empty chair.

He was going to propose to Lucinda—in front of her?

She needed to sit.

She needed to figure out an excuse—stat.

She couldn’t hang around and watch Matt take a knee.

No, that was too painful.

Cruel and unusual punishment.

She spotted an empty Adirondack near the fire and practically collapsed into it.

What would Gam say?

Breathe.

She sucked in the icy air, not knowing where else to look or what to do.

If she left now, she could sneak back to her cabin and fake a headache.

No one would miss her.

Before she could force her body to move, Jill slipped into the chair next to her. “Hey, some party, huh? This puts shame on our campfires. Remember when we thought we were so fancy about bringing official metal skewers for s’mores instead of foraging for sticks in the forest?”

Meg chuckled, feeling wistful and nostalgic for those easy days. “Yeah. Those were the days.” She nursed her hot toddy, warming her hands in front of the bonfire. “Have you heard anything?”

“Heard anything?” Jill echoed, her voice a beat late.

“About tonight?” Meg asked.

Jill blinked, staring into the flames. She looked distant and thoughtful in a way that Meg couldn’t quite read.

“No,” Jill said finally, shaking her head. “Nothing official.”

Meg studied her for a minute. Jill was quiet and distracted.

Is she avoiding the subject?

Did she already know Matt was going to propose tonight?

No, Jill would give her some warning, surely.

She tried not to read too much into the bittersweet look on Jill’s face, but something about it made her chest ache again.

They sat in the flickering silence, both watching the same fire, side by side, but in two different worlds.

Meg sipped her drink and craned her neck toward the sky, her breath puffing out little bursts like the smoke from the roaring bonfire.

Everything smelled like Christmas—the woodsy smoke, the warming spices in the mulled wine, hints of savory grilled meats wafting their way.

The stars overhead seemed to envelop them in a brilliant, sparkling hug of light.

Meg had forgotten how many stars she could see in the high desert.

The ceiling was so low it was like she could reach out and touch it.

The mood should have been festive, but the thought that Matt was about to get on one knee and profess his love to Lucinda with her watching was too much to stomach. She caught a glance at Johanna, who was caught up in a conversation with Owen near the food tables.

Meg couldn’t tell if her friend was trying to hard-sell Owen on joining the ESPN team or if something was imploding at work. Johanna was off, too. She kept checking her phone, even though she’d silenced notifications earlier.

When Matt and Lucinda finally arrived, the vibe shifted.

They arrived to cheers and happy applause and made a beeline for drinks.

“The birthday guy is here, let’s get this party started,” Lucinda said cheerfully, joining everyone at the fire and raising her copper mug in a toast. “To Matt. Here’s to a new decade and chapter!

Tomorrow, we officially welcome you to the Thirty Club, and let me tell you, speaking as someone older and wiser by five months, it just gets better from here.

I think we have many, many happy days ahead. ”

Matt’s cheeks reddened, but he clinked his pint glass to hers as everyone raised their mugs in a celebratory toast. He looked ridiculously handsome in a retro eighties ski jacket with bold primary-colored stripes across the chest. They had clearly coordinated their outfits because Lucinda wore a matching jacket.

Her hair was tied in two long braids and covered with a vintage hat that made her look like she’d stepped straight from the pages of a ski catalog.

Meg did her best to avoid getting stuck with either of them but somehow found herself shoulder to shoulder with Lucinda as she moved closer to the fire to roast a marshmallow.

“Oh, Meg, I’m so glad you’re here.” Lucinda threw her arms around Meg, squeezing her tight like they were long-lost friends.

“I’m glad the timing worked. I’m here on assignment, so I’ll pop into what I can, but don’t expect me for everything. Tomorrow, I’ll be at the racecourse most of the day.” She tried to shrug out of Lucinda’s grasp. The more space she could put between them, the better.

“But you’re coming to the birthday dinner tomorrow night, right? It’s forest formal, and it’s going to be a bash. You don’t want to miss it. Trust me. You have to come to the dinner, Meg. Pinkie swear.” Lucinda held out her pinkie.

“I don’t know. It will depend on how long the race goes and the time I need to write the first draft of my story. I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.” Meg wasn’t about to commit to any additional events, especially if Lucinda ended the evening with a fat diamond ring on her finger.

“Please try.” Lucinda grabbed her arm. “It means so much to Matt to have you here. He talks about you nonstop. It’s like you two were siblings separated at birth.”

Siblings?

He thought of her as a sister?

Great.

Perfect.

What could be better?

Meg’s marshmallow slipped off the skewer, falling into the fire and melting into an oozing mess. That pretty much summed up how she felt inside.

She used to be convinced that Matt was the guy she was going to marry.

He thought of her as a sister.

Could this night get worse?

“Oh, dear. Hold tight.” Lucinda handed Meg her drink to hold while she grabbed more marshmallows. “Here, try again. They’re slippery little suckers, aren’t they?”

Meg didn’t trust herself to respond, so she nodded, stabbing the marshmallow with the pointy tip, and considered stabbing herself in the arm. Maybe that would take the sting of losing Matt away.

“Anyway, I hope you’ll come. Matt is obsessed with you. He won’t shut up about your writing. Like I mentioned earlier, we have a lot in common. Daddy issues.” She sighed and tugged on a braid.

“Daddy issues?” Meg hated that term. She’d spent years in therapy and a hefty chunk of her paycheck coming to terms with her dad’s decision to choose his job over everything else.

She’d never fully get over him allowing his only daughter to believe he was dead for the sake of a story.

As far as they’d come and as much as they’d healed, that betrayal would forever be a part of their story.

“I know our situations are different, but I have my own challenges. My dad has extreme expectations for me and the company that, um, well, let’s just say, don’t align always with my vision for my future.

And Howard Hinton gets what Howard Hinton wants.

But you know, at some point, you have to do your own thing and break the cycle.

You’ve done that.” Lucinda paused and took a long drink.

“At Matt’s prodding, I’ve been going to therapy and trying to work on it.

I know it’s been tough on him for the two of you not to be close.

You should have seen his face when I told him you RSVP’d.

He was ecstatic. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that happy.

” There was warmth in her eyes, and she spoke so freely and earnestly.

At least it was clear that she cared about Matt.

“I know he was devastated after he tried to give you his take on the situation with your dad, but it’s like he said: ‘We can’t force our friends or family to care more about themselves than we do. ’”

Meg’s entire body went cold.

She wanted to flee, run away through the snowy fields, and lock herself in her cabin for the rest of the night—or, better yet, the rest of the weekend. If Matt had shared this much with Lucinda about their friendship and falling-out, then he was obviously in love with her as well.

And ouch, those last words really stung.

He thought he cared more about Meg than she cared about herself.