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"I hope you're doing okay," he said. "In case you're wondering, there aren't any cameras or anything in your room, so it's not like I can see you." He leaned forward a bit toward the camera. "But God, April. I want to see you. I know it's only been a day or so, but you have no idea how much I miss you. You swept in here with your gorgeous hair and your television crew, and…well, you shone a light into part of me that I guess had been dark for a really long time. And I screwed it all up. And I miss you."
I shivered, staring into the fathomless depths of his eyes on the screen. It was exceedingly hard to hold onto my anger.
"Get ready for the next visitor, okay? The ghost of Christmas present." Callan flickered away, and a moment later, Lynn appeared on the screen.
"Hey girl!" she chirped. "Oh my god, this has been the most insane day. I can't believe Callan Whitewood called me… to help him win you! What have our lives turned into? Seriously."
Lynn laughed, and my heart lightened with the sound of it, so familiar and reassuring. Lynn had been family to me since high school, and seeing her round pink cheeks and soft blond hair on the screen made me feel instantly better. "So I'm totally coming out there if you decide to stay, but I wouldn't have gotten there in time today. So you get me on camera instead—where I totally belong, by the way. Someday!"
Lynn had dreams of acting. Dreams she literally never pursued. At all. But I was used to hearing about them, so this nod to all things familiar made me feel even more at home with Lynn on my screen.
"Here's the thing. Apes, as much as I miss you here in LA, I think it's time to face facts. For one thing, you don't have a job. And this is not an especially affordable place to live. Unless you're thinking of taking that apartment you looked at after college over in Santa Monica. The one with the closet bar across the living room? Where the bathroom door didn't close because the toilet was too big? I mean, if that's what you want for your future—living in a literal closet and being able to poop while chatting with whoever's on the couch—then by all means. I mean…who am I to stop you?
"But I'm thinking you need more than that, and I know you deserve a lot more. And while I've never been to Snaggle Tree, Maryland, myself, it sounds like a pretty good place. A place with people who care about you. And April, it sounds like a place where there's a ridiculously hot guy who would do just about anything to make you happy.
"I miss you like hell, but, April? What do you have to come back to?"
Ouch. I cringed at the truth of it. Though my mother was still in Los Angeles, there wasn't much else there for me now besides Lynn. And I knew that Lynn would always be my best friend, no matter who lived where. That was just a fact.
"Think about it, okay?" Lynn added. And then she winked and did a little gun motion with her hand. And she was gone.
And I was alone in my room again, snow falling gently on my television screen, and my mind whirling in too many directions at once. Could I really stay here?
I’d sat with Ryan McDonnell for two hours that morning. And once I’d gotten past the shock and obvious nerves that came with the fact that he was completely famous and really handsome, I’d listened to what he had to say. He'd come to Maryland for a weekend, fallen in love, and never really gone back.
Come to think of it, there were a lot more parallels between our stories than I would have ever assumed I might find with a legitimate celebrity. We both came to Maryland from Los Angeles—somewhat under duress in both cases. We’d both assumed we would be heading right back home, but had ended up staying longer than intended. And Ryan had found the love of his life here. That was what had made him stay.
What about me, I wondered. Had I found the love of my life?
I didn't know about that, but what Ryan offered was a solid job. And a promotion at that. He was looking for a production manager for the company he'd formed here in Maryland. I’d be producing film projects for him, but I’d also have a hand in helping select those projects. It wasn't reality television, and it wasn't some over-tinsled home show. It was feature-length film, something I’d always wanted but hadn't dared to hope for. Something I wasn't sure I could even do.
Hadn't I just failed spectacularly twice? Maybe I wasn't cut out for production at all. Maybe I should have been talking to Lottie about getting a job at the bakery instead.
I pulled the sweater tighter around me in the quiet closeness of my hotel room. A sense of anticipation brewed within me. I knew what was coming. Or at least, I knew there had to be a ghost of Christmas future to follow on the heels of those last two visits. But what would it be? Who would it be?
The snow continued to fall on my television screen as the hour stretched on, and I was beginning to have that strange feeling again that maybe I’d imagined it all. And in the silent waiting, my mind went to Callan.
Here was a man who'd come to Singletree to escape in many ways. He was hurt, wounded by disappointment and broken expectations, and within days of him arriving, I’d barreled in with cameras, threatening to expose him again to the very thing he'd been trying to escape. I couldn't blame him, maybe, for jumping to the worst conclusions when he'd gotten the second contract. It had been a big enough stretch for him to agree to the first. And I knew that he'd done it not because he cared a lot about his house being featured onHoliday Homes,and not even because he'd signed a contract, no matter how unwittingly. He'd done it for me.
Callan had been willing to put himself out of his comfort zone because I needed him to. Maybe I needed to step out of my own comfort zone a bit too.
As I had this thought, the sound of music filtered up from somewhere outside. As I strained to listen, the music grew louder, and I realized it wasn't only music—it was voices. A lot of them. And they were outside my window.
I stood and went over to put up the sash once again, and when I did, the cold air whooshed in on a chorus of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas." I peered out to see at least fifteen people bundled against the cold and standing beneath my window on the sidewalk below. Annabelle was there, along with Andrew the bell boy and a couple of the other guys I’d seen moving things around the hotel. Lottie and Helen were there, and so was Ryan McDonnell, his arm around a beautiful dark-haired woman who must have been his fiancée, Tess. I nearly choked when I recognized Juliet Manchester at Tess's side, along with a huge dark-haired man that must have been the bodyguard Ryan had mentioned, Jace. Wylie Blanchard from the distillery was there, and so were the Wentworths and six or seven other people I’d seen around town. It seemed like every single person I’d met since coming here had gathered outside to sing. I figured they'd move on any second, off to serenade another guest, but as soon as the song ended, they started up again with another familiar holiday tune.
I waved and smiled down at them, catching the eyes of Cormac and his darling daughters and getting an ecstatic wave from Maddie who broke from singing to yell, "Hi Ape-Will!"
Just as I started to wonder how long this might go on, there was a sharp knock at the door of my room, and I let out a little scream. I covered my mouth with my hand, waved down at the carolers, and took a deep breath. Whatever the ghost of Christmas future had to tell me, it was about to happen. I steeled myself and I turned, crossing to answer the door.
24
The Trouble with Armoires
Callan
Planning the rest had been easy. I knew it was potentially risky to reach out to April's father, but once I’d spoken to Lynn, I knew I had to try. And when he'd been receptive, almost relieved, to tell me the story, I knew it was the right thing.
I wanted April to see a future she hadn't imagined before—one I didn't even see until just a day or two before. I wanted her to feel the magic around us in this place and know that there was a chance we could capture it and hold it forever if she was willing to try.
