Christmas at the Riverview Inn

I’d love to.

“Why do you take those meetings with Netflix and YouTube if you aren’t interested in doing a show for them?”

“Because I hope when I’m in New York City I might run into you.”

She smiled at him, shook her head. “There are easier ways to make that happen.”

“I know that now. But it didn’t seem so at the time.”

“What are you hoping for when you take those meetings?”

“That they will pitch me an idea that sounds like me. That excites me.”

“What if you went to them with a show idea? Created exactly the way you wanted.”

“But they attach producers and writers, and then it gets co-opted.“

“You happen to know a producer and a writer.”

His mouth fell open for a second. “You want to work with me?”

The way he said work made it clear he didn’t understand what she was saying. Or offering. And maybe that had been their problem all along. They never said what they meant. At least, not while sober.

“I just…quit my job. They’re not interested in Common Ground and I can not go back to that place. You were right. I needed to quit. Not that that has anything to do with you. Or that you need to feel responsible. I should have done it ages ago. You just…pushed me in the right way.”

“That’s good,” he said, very carefully.

“And I believe in you. In what you do. And I want to help. If that’s…you know…” She was running out of steam. “Something you want. I mean, I could take the next few months—I have savings—and help you create the show that you would want to do. That excites you. And then I can help you pitch it. If…you want…me?”

“Do I want you?” It was so bald. So plain. It made her scared. It made her doubt. Was she worth having? Was this ridiculous?

“Like that. Like…in your life in that way. In any way. You probably need to think about it. And I get that. I mean, it’s Christmas Eve and we really…I mean, it’s only been three days.” She laughed, awkward and awful. “Anyway. It’s just…something to think about.”

“Josie.” He took a step toward her. “I want to be clear. Is this a business proposition, or…more?”

“Both?” she whispered with a shrug, feeling as out of body as she’d ever felt. As she’d ever been. This was riskier than a kiss after her high school graduation. She’d never been so exposed.

He opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say or do was crushed under the weight of the entire family storming into the lodge, loaded with presents and noise and distraction.

“You’re alive!” Mom cried, bringing in the cold with her. “Take these, would you?” She unloaded a pile of brightly wrapped presents into Josie’s arms. “Put them under the tree. I need to help Dom with the stockings.”

Josie caught Cameron’s eye before he was pulled into the kitchen by Alice, and the look on his face told her it was all too much. All too soon.

She’d driven him away. Again.

How is this a mistake I just keep making?

“Come on,” Dom said, walking past her with rope in his hands. “Help me with the stockings.”

Helen walked by, her brow furrowed, looking down at her phone.

“Are you all right?” Josie asked Helen.

“Fine. I just…haven’t heard anything from Evan.”

“Well, the storm.”

“Totally, the storm.” Helen put the phone in her pocket and took Josie in from the top of her head to her feet. “What have you been up to?”

“So much,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” Helen asked, her eyes bright. She grabbed Josie’s hand.

“But I just did something so stupid and I’ve ruined everything. Again.”

“Josie!” Dom yelled from the fireplace. “You’re helping me!”

“I gotta help.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The stockings had once hung side by side on the mantel, but now there were too many so Max drilled little eye hooks into the wall, and the rope they hung the stockings on stretched from one corner of the room to the other. Ten feet of stockings.

“You okay?” Dom asked.

“Fine. Why?”

“You seem weird.”

“You’re a real wordsmith, Dom,” she said.

“I don’t know. Happy. I guess. You seem happy.”

It was weird that it was true. Even if she had ruined everything with Cameron. Even if they weren’t supposed to have more than one night, quitting her job had been the right thing to do. And she was happy. Even with heartbreak looming, she was happier than she’d been in ages. Years.

“I’m just so happy to be here,” she said, surprised as the words came out of her mouth about just how true it was.

“You should come back more often,” he said. “I mean. Mom and Dad, like…miss you.”

“What about you?” she asked, advancing on her brother for a hug she knew he was going to try to wrestle out of. “Do you, like…miss me?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I do.” And then he surprised her by pulling her in for a hug.