New Year Second Chance

“Here you go.” Nash hands me my basket with his grin still in place. “I’d wish you a happy new year, but I already know you’re going to have one.”

He winks.

I manage to smile back before taking my basket to the cashier, though I fail to say anything. What if Nash is right and Dax tries again tonight? He might have last Christmas if his landlord hadn’t interrupted us while we were snuggling on the couch right after watching Love Actually. He pounded on the door just to ask if Dax had seen his mother’s cat.

Tonight, Dax is going to be at my apartment. My two roommates aren’t going to be there and my landlady is out of town. Plus it’s New Year’s Eve.

It’s a golden opportunity, and Dax might just seize it. If he does, am I going to push him away again?

I mull over the possible scenarios as I pay for my cheese, meat and olives. I make my way out of the deli through the crowd, barely hearing the noise now. Once I’m outside on the sidewalk, my phone rings again.

I get it because it might be Dax calling. It isn’t. It’s one of my professors, Professor Sherman. Still, I tap the icon to answer the call.

“Professor Sherman?” I ask as I hold the phone against my ear.

“Jenna.” I hear the relief in his voice. “Thank goodness I got a hold of you.”

My eyebrows furrow. “Did something happen, sir?”

I know something did. He wouldn’t call otherwise. The question is: Is it good or bad?

“Right on,” he answers. “Remember that paper of yours that I submitted to a competition?”

“Yes.”

“Well, the judging committee sent me an email to let me know they’re publishing it in their journal. And paying you for it, of course.”

I clasp a hand over my mouth as I let out a gasp. Seriously?

“They just need you to fill up a form and send a picture of yourself and it’s all good,” Professor Sherman adds. “You don’t have to do it at once, though. They can wait until next year, preferably before the fifteenth of January.”

Next year. Right. Today is the last day of the year.

“Jenna? Are you still there?”

I find my voice. “Y-yes, Professor. I’m here. I understand.”

“Good. I wasn’t sure if I should call you since it’s New Year’s Eve and all, but the email actually arrived before Christmas and I only saw it now. I thought you deserved to hear the good news as soon as possible.”

“No worries,” I assure him. “Thank you so much for letting me know, Professor.”

“You’re welcome. And congratulations.”

The pride in his voice makes me smile. “Thank you.”

There’s more I want to say – that I couldn’t have finished that paper without his help or faith in me, how much his guidance and support mean to me, that I look forward to making him even prouder of me. I’d rather say all that in person, though, the next time we meet. For now, the two words I’ve just said will suffice.

“Happy New Year,” he says next.

“Happy New Year, sir.”

He hangs up. I put my phone away and draw a deep breath to let the conversation sink in.

They like my ideas. They’re publishing my paper.

My lips curve into a smile as I start walking under a shower of fresh snow.

I can use the money, sure, but the recognition is what thrills me the most. It’s a stamp of approval from the experts. I feel like I’m being told I have what it takes to make a difference in the world. I’m on the right path. I’m a step closer to my dreams.

It’s an amazing feeling, one which makes me want to skip on the sidewalk, to roll in the snow, to hug someone.

To kiss someone.

I stop walking as I think of Dax. I want to celebrate this with him. And not just this. I want to share all the joy and gratitude I feel for a wonderful year with him.

I want to share myself with him. I want us to end this year and welcome the new one closer than ever before.

I keep walking, a spring in my step and a wider smile on my face.

I know exactly what I’m doing this New Year’s Eve.

~

I don’t know what to do, I realize as I sit next to Dax on the couch in the living room of my apartment. As the previous New Year concert by the Vienna Philharmonic plays on the screen, I anxiously fidget with the edge of the pillow on my lap.

There’s less than an hour before midnight. Half the cheese platter and the bottle of wine are gone. We’ve already finished watching a movie, too. Still, Dax hasn’t made a move. In fact, he’s barely here.

True, he seemed happy for me when I relayed the good news from Professor Sherman, but he didn’t even give me a peck on the cheek and he’s barely smiled since. Twice, I’ve had to repeat a question because he didn’t hear it the first time. Once, I put my hand on his thigh – which took all the guts I had – and didn’t get any reaction.