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I sighed, the breath coming from somewhere deep inside my soul where all the disappointments in my life swirled in a dark eddy that threatened sometimes to suck me down. "Good night."
"Good night," Lynn said.
And just like that, I was all alone again.
* * *
I woke in a haze, a pillow half-stuffed in my open mouth and about twelve others wedged uncomfortably into various body parts. The television still droned from across the room, whereHouse Hunterswas in the midst of a pre-holiday marathon. The light in the room was soft and diffuse, and it took me a few moments to realize I’d passed out after hanging up with Lynn, and that it was morning. I needed to get packed and clear out of Christmas Tree. I was on a red eye back to my real life tonight.
The thought made me feel sick.
Or perhaps that was the fudge and moonshine swirling in my stomach.
When I was able to move my limbs, I checked my phone for the time. Seven o'clock. I didn't technically need to be leaving until almost twelve hours later, and I’d gotten a late checkout. Not that I had anything to do except feel hollow and alone all day. It might make more sense to just head to the airport, I figured.
The crew should have already left—they were both on flights the previous night, having bought refundable tickets just in case something went wrong with filming. They both had families to get back to, and it was Christmastime, after all.
I stumbled to the bathroom and ran water into the tub, deciding I could put off actually accomplishing anything for at least another hour.
When I emerged, my skin pruned and my hair hanging in wet ribbons down my back, I felt slightly better, if not more hopeful. At least I wasn't hung over. Desolate, hopeless and completely alone? Yes, but not hung over. So I had that going for me, at least.
I packed up my things, dried my hair and took a deep breath before leaving my room. I needed to say some goodbyes—mostly one. And then, after a quick bite, I’d be on my way. No point lingering around here.
Downstairs, I found Annabelle at the front desk as usual, cheerfully handing keys to an older couple who must have been visiting someone for the holidays. They had that grandparental air, I thought—optimistic and proud.
"Hello," they said in unison, turning away from the desk to head to the elevator. "Merry Christmas."
"Right," I said, unable to manage anything much more appropriate.
Annabelle's wide blue eyes were sympathetic when I turned back to her. "Hey," she said softly.
"Hi. Thanks for all the stuff. The fudge, especially. And the moonshine."
Annabelle smiled. "I hoped it might help. I mean, I know it can't… that's not to say…" She shook her head, a blush rising in her cheeks.
"It's okay," I told her. "Callan hates me because he thinks I tried to manipulate him to take advantage of his fame for the show. I don't think there's help for that."
"Oh, I see," Annabelle said, folding her hands on the desk in front of her.
"It's hard to take you seriously with that…" I waved at Annabelle's head, which was sporting a hat and fake hair combination meant to look like one of the Whos from Dr. Seuss's Whoville. The pigtails stuck straight out to the sides before angling sharply upward to the ceiling. She wore a strange prosthetic under her nose that made her whole face look a little bit rodent like, and I found it hard to look right at her.
"Sorry," Annabelle said, peeling the prosthetic off. "Better?"
"Yes," I said. "Anyway, I guess I'll be checking out this afternoon. I just wanted to let you know I probably don’t need that late checkout."
"Oh, don’t worry about that. You’ve got the room as long as you need. Just keep it. Just in case.”
I shrugged. "Thank you. I think I'm going to go get something to eat over at Lottie's."
Annabelle nodded. "Of course." Her face was sympathetic and all the nodding she was doing was making her hair bounce dangerously. "Please don't leave without saying goodbye."
"I wouldn't!" I took Annabelle's hand on a whim, squeezing it firmly. I felt a rush of warmth for the other woman, and realized it was going to be hard to say goodbye to her. Harder than it should be, given how long I’d know her. But I hadn't made a lot of close connections in my life, and I’d found more in Singletree in the short time I’d been here than I had in Los Angeles in a lifetime.
That was something to think about. Something I would definitely not be thinking about, I told myself as I crossed the town square to Lottie Tanner's bakery and cafe. It would only make it harder to leave. I put that into a little locked chest along with any and all thoughts of hot ex-soccer stars. Locked up tight.
Sure, that would work.
"April!" Lottie called as I pushed through the door, fighting a stiff and very cold wind on the sidewalk outside. "You're still here! I'm so glad!"
