“It sounds like you need to stand up for yourself and fight forher,” Glo said. She was good about making not-so-subtle suggestions.
Her mother was probably right, but Grace fought dirty, and Emmahad no idea how to go up against her. She’d been more than patient with thewhole situation, and it hurt to know she wasn’t, and might never be, the mostimportant person in Dex’s life.
“Maybe so, but I shouldn’t have to beg her to want to be alonewith me.”
“I’m sure that’s not the case.” She hung scattered strings ofgarland across the tree. “She seemed genuinely happy to be here with you onThanksgiving.”
“That’s only because you took her phone and ran interference withGrace.”
“Maybe she just needs time to let Grace go.”
“I certainly hope so. If not, we’re done.”
“Why don’t you go out with some of your friends or something toget your mind off her?”
“Can’t. Amy took all my friends.”
“What about work friends? You must have some of those.”
“I have a few, but my best friend there is married to theproblem.”
“Oh, my. This is more complicated than I thought.”
“Exactly.” Emma wished she could talk to Brent about it, but thatmight put a giant wedge between them. No one ever liked hearing the truth abouttheir spouse, until it was too late.
They hung the rest of the ornaments and decorated the living roomwith garland and lights. Glo had multiple Santa and angel statues, as well as avintage manger scene they’d arranged throughout the main rooms of the house.The place appeared very festive, but Emma wasn’t feeling the spirit. Theholiday season would be long and lonesome this year.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dex chugged the last bit of coffee she’d picked up atMcDonald’s on her way over to Emma’s parents’. She parked in front of the houseand killed the engine. The holiday music that had been blaring through thespeakers stopped, and the words to “Happy Holidays” rang in her head. She notedthe lack of Emma’s car anywhere on the street. Happy fucking holidays. Thesinking feeling in her chest didn’t improve her mood, and the silence wassuddenly deafening.
She’d sent Emma a text yesterday, apologizing for the situation atthe skating rink, but all she’d received in response were two words. I know. Dex’sday had been more than full yesterday, and she hadn’t had time to dwell on whatEmma had meant. Everyone wanted their lights up now. Her workload was this wayevery holiday season, and Dex usually loved it, but so far this year she wasn’tfeeling the Christmas cheer.
Colored lights were flickering on and off in front of Bill as hesat on a stool in the garage behind his workbench. He seemed to be checking anenormous pile of light strings for dead bulbs, a task she never enjoyed. Dexglanced into the back seat of her SUV at the boxes she’d loaded this morning.She’d brought everything needed to decorate the house, including new LEDlights, in case Emma’s dad wanted to update his display. She unfastened theladder from the top of her SUV and carried it up the driveway, then leaned itagainst the house before stepping into the garage. The space was nice andtoasty, thanks to the gas heater mounted on the outside wall. She noted theflat-screen TV and was sure this was Bill’s manctuary.
As Dex entered the garage, she couldn’t help but admire howimpeccably organized everything was. Screwdrivers hung on pegboard, in sizeorder, wrenches just above them, and various power tools were slid into whatappeared to be a handmade charging station on the wall above the bench.
Bill turned around and stood up. “Hey there, young lady.” Hereached out and shook her hand. The buzz cut he sported had been cut evenshorter since she’d seen him last. The wild white hairs sprouting from hiseyebrows caused her to wonder if he’d rolled out of bed just ten minutesbefore.
“Good morning,” she said, still staring at the charging station.“Did you make that?”
He grinned and puffed his chest out slightly. “I did. In fact, Ijust hung it this morning.” He brushed a stray curl of wood shaving from thebench.
Dex slid her hand across the smooth wood finish. “It’s awesome.”
“Thank you. It keeps the tools off the bench.” He seemed to watchher for a moment before he said, “Let’s go inside, say hello to Glo, and getyou something warm to drink.” He opened the door and motioned her to go aheadof him.
“Thanks.” Dex stepped inside, and the comfort hit her immediately,just as it had a few days before on Thanksgiving. The house was decoratedbeautifully, yet it was warm and inviting, just what she’d expected from ahouse that seemed so full of love.
“You’re here.” Glo rushed in from the living room and swept herinto a hug. “Are you hungry? I have eggs, or I can make pancakes.” She twistedher wrist to check the time. “Maybe a sandwich instead.” She automaticallystarted taking lunchmeat and other sandwich makings out of the refrigerator.“You can’t work out in the cold without something in your stomach.”
Dex smiled at her smothering, something she’d really neverexperienced as a child. Her parents were always on the go, working to help somegood cause for someone else. “Thanks, but I already ate.” She’d scarfed down anEgg McMuffin on the way over.
Glo loaded everything back into the refrigerator. “Okay, then.You’ll stay for dinner. I’m going to fix a nice pot roast, unless you don’t eatred meat. Then I can roast a chicken.”
“I’d love to.” Dex smiled and nodded. “Pot roast sounds great.”Emma had told her about her mother’s scrumptious Sunday meals. The thought ofseeing her later at dinner swam through her head, and her heartbeat quickened.
By the time Dex went back outside, the two crew members she’d beenable to round up to assist had arrived and were already wrapping the two treesin the yard with
