Page 90 of Pity Present
“Only a couple of them,” she says, which makes me think she might be realizing that she doesn’t want to lose Henry. She adds, “I was thinking more of how special it is that I got a younger sister. I’d just about given up hope of having a sibling and then boom, in comes this dark-haired little cherub to love.”
“You’re a great big sister, Ellen. I’m lucky to have had you.” That’s the truth. Ellen doted on me and bent over backwards to do fun things with me. When she went away to college, she let me come and stay weekends with her. When she graduated from college and got her own apartment, I would go and stay for a week at a time during my summer break.
I’ve complained a lot about how controlling Ellen is, but as I look back, I realize she was just trying to protect me. She was trying to make my world safe. And I love her for that. I just wish that now that I’m grown, I could do the same for her.
I suddenly have an idea. Getting out of bed, I grab my phone and go back into the bathroom. If this works, then maybe, just maybe, I can repay some of the debt I owe to my sister.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
BLAKE
Gillian stares at her computer screen intently before saying, “Not bad.”
Not bad, my foot. I just turned in three articles that rock socks like a fox on a box eating lox. I may owe my love of the written word to Dr. Seuss.
Sticking my hand out toward her, I demand, “I’ll take those tickets now.”
Instead of handing them to me, she says, “Your last article isn’t complete. The one about you and Polly.” She pauses long enough to ask, “Is that her real name?”
“I’m not going to give you her real name.” Then I ask, “How is the article incomplete? I told you about our first kiss, I told you about how she broke things off with me. What more do you expect?”
“I want the finale! I want the making up and getting back together.”
“Under no circumstances will I write anything more about me and M … Polly. I gave you what you wanted, which was a review ofthe Elk Lake Lodge’s dating event. I did my part.” Sticking out my hand, I tell her, “Now do yours.”
Gillian reaches into her desk and pulls out a small white envelope. “You know, if you told her the only reason you wrote about her was to help a sick boy, I’m willing to bet she’d forgive you.”
“I thought that was all top secret.”
“You can’t write about it,” she confirms. “But you could tell Polly.”
Making a grab for the tickets, I tell her, “She’s not happy that I was writing about us, but her main complaint is that I didn’t tell her why I was at the event. I made up some lie about being there undercover for the coffee shop I worked at.”
Gillian scoffs. “What coffee shop would pay for you to participate in a two-week-long singles’ getaway?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell her. “I came up with a good story and Molly believed me.”
“Ah, so her name is Molly! What’s her last name?”
“Her last name is none of your business, Gillian.” Taking the tickets from her, I ask, “Do I still have a job?”
“Of course you still have a job. Why wouldn’t you?”
“Do I still have a job writing aboutsports?” I clarify. I will not do another one of these filler pieces even if it means saving my career.
“You do. In fact, you should plan on starting the first of the year. Charlie has decided his last game will be on New Years’ Eve.”
I release the breath I’d been holding. “Finally. Thank you.”
“But I still want you to tweak the last article and give me the happily-ever-after our readers will be counting on.”
I concede, “If there’s a happily-ever-after, I’ll write about it. But that’s a big if, considering Molly isn’t talking to me.”
“Christmas is a time for miracles, Blake. Don’t give up.”
I think about that as I walk out of Gillian’s office. I’m not a fan of those cheesy movies where people’s eyes meet across the roomand they just know they’re looking at their soul mate. I particularly detest the ones where two unsuspecting people meet and fall in love while picking out a Christmas tree. How unrealistic is that?
But if Christmas could bring a miracle that would let Molly forgive me, I’d stand in a block-long line and sit on Santa’s lap myself to thank him. Taking the tickets out of the envelope, I slowly count them. There are five, like I requested.
