“He said ‘lass’ again, Jordy,” I call over Fergus’s shoulder. “Did Fergus teach you any more fun Scottish words?”

  “A few,” Jordy says. She’s watching me with a mixture of amusement and affection. “I think ‘numpty’ is my favorite.”

  Fergus’s grip tightens as giggles roll out of me. Since he’s already so close, I throw my arms around him in a hug, laughing harder when he lets out a surprised ‘oof’.

  “I think I kind of love you, Fergus,” I tell him, releasing him to pat his bearded cheek. “Is that okay?”

  His eyes light with indulgent humor. “Aye, that’s okay, Hollie. I think I kind of love you too.”

  “And Louisa?” I ask.

  Fergus’s smile wavers and then grows, his face morphing into an expression I’ve never seen before. Despite the sigh he releases, he nods. “Louisa too.” He steadies me and steps away without giving me a chance to question him further, which is probably a good thing because Lulu would throttle me if she knew. “I’ve got a few things in the back seat for you. Why don’t you and Jordy head inside and I’ll bring everything in and put it in the kitchen.”

  Jordy hooks her arm through mine and guides me toward the house. Once we’re inside, she says, “Go change your clothes while I pour you a giant glass of water.”

  I do as instructed, making a detour to the bathroom to throw my hair into a messy bun and wash my makeup off. In a very un-Hollie move, I strip in the middle of my room and leave my clothes in a heap on the floor, then don my pajamas. By the time I get to the living room, Jordy is there, wearing her own pajamas.

  She hands me a glass of ice water after I’ve flopped down beside her. As soon as the cold liquid touches my lips, it tastes like the best thing ever, and I down half the glass in one go. Jordy watches me with mirth dancing in her eyes.

  “Did you have fun tonight?” I ask her.

  “So much fun,” she says. “I’ve never been to a proper grown-up party before—y’know, where people are circulating with trays of food and stuff? It all felt so glamorous.”

  “You looked glamorous,” I tell her, enjoying the pleasure in her expression even though she shrugs off my words. “I hope you find a reason to wear that dress again soon.”

  “So I shouldn't wear it on my first day of school in Calgary?”

  My half-inebriated brain concocts an image of Jordy strutting into her small rural school—her brother told her there are fourteen kids in her grade twelve class—looking like a fabulous walking blue disco ball. A cackle spills from my mouth, making Jordy giggle. “Maybe save it for a school dance or something.”

  Her gaze drifts from mine, eyes going hazy. “I’ve never been to a school dance,” she says softly. “I never had anyone to go with and I couldn’t afford the tickets anyway. Or something new to wear. But maybe…” Her eyes trail back to mine and she gives me a heartbreakingly beautiful smile that leaves a thick lump in my throat. “Maybe I can go to a dance at my new school. Maybe even prom.”

  “You absolutely should. I know in the grand scheme of things it’s just a dance, but it felt like a rite of passage to me. High school isn’t easy, and prom was like a reward for all that hard work, turmoil, and drama.”

  “Who’d you go with?”

  “The girls.” I smile at the memory. “We pulled names out of a hat and bought each other corsages. Evie’s mom insisted on hiring a limo for us, and we had the chauffeur drive us all over town before going to the event hall. We spent most of the night on the dance floor, just like tonight.”

  “Thank you for letting me come tonight,” she says suddenly. “I loved getting to be part of your friend group for the night. I’ll never forget it.”

  “Consider yourself an honorary best friend now. Membership is for life and any member would do anything for another member, no matter where they may live. Remember that.”

  Jordy is quiet for a minute, her head bowed as she absentmindedly smooths one finger over the tiny sheep pattern on her pajama pants. “Do I get a membership card? Or maybe a plaque of some sort?”

  I laugh. “I’ll see about having one made for you. I’ll bring it to you the first time I visit you in Calgary.”

  She unfolds herself from the couch and springs to her feet. “I think I’ve reached my limit of lovey, mushy stuff for one day. You good if I go to bed?”

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll finish this water and have another glass, just to be safe.” I get up and stand in front of her. “Is one more hug too much mush for you?”

  “Yes, but I’ll allow it since it’s your birthday.” She hugs me fiercely, holding on like her life depends on it. I cling right back, doing my best to restrain the tidal wave of emotion that threatens to overtake me. “Happy birthday, Hollie. I…I love you.”

  I can’t respond right away because the words are trapped by the lump in my throat. If I let them out, I’m afraid a sob will come with them. Jordy stiffens against me, but I keep my arms locked tightly around her until I’m able to speak. “I love you too, Jordy.”

  She releases me instantly and practically leaps away. “Okay, that’s enough now. Byyyyyye.” And with that, she darts down the hall and up the stairs.

  I laugh to myself as I take my glass of water and head to the kitchen. As promised, Fergus left the gifts people brought on the kitchen counter. I insisted the girls tell invitees not to bring gifts, but a few people did anyway. Fergus has laid them out neatly on the counter, bless him. I check the tags on each of them and decide to open them in the morning when my mind is clearer and I can form proper thank-you messages. My fingers go still on the card of the final gift, a giant basket. It’s from Spencer.

  Happy birthday, Hollie. I know you said no gifts, but I kept driving past that new British novelty store near the mall, Ye Olde British Shoppe, and I finally stopped in this morning. I couldn’t resist picking up a few things for you, but I also made a donation to Belle Vie in your name. Thank you for giving me a second chance and for your friendship over the last few weeks.

  Love, Spencer xx

  I trace a finger over his small, neat handwriting, lingering on the word ‘love’ and the two kisses. I’ve known enough Brits to know kisses are customary, but the ‘love’ is another matter. Am I reading too much into this or is he sending mixed messages again? He asked me to go to London with him, told me he cares about me, signed a card with ‘love’, and yet he refers to me as a friend.

  This train of thought is making my head spin, so I mentally shove the thoughts aside in favor of digging into the basket. I let out a delighted laugh as I pull out the contents: Terry’s Chocolate Orange Minis, Cadbury Roses, Maltesers Truffles, Galaxy Minstrels, Hobnobs, and Jaffa Cakes. There’s a small package at the bottom that’s cool to the touch. I open it and dig past the smallest ice packs I’ve ever seen to withdraw a jar of clotted cream.

  He remembered. I simultaneously want to laugh and cry at the thoughtfulness of the gift. And the irony, considering Spencer asked me to go to England with him for Christmas.

  I race back to the living room and grab my phone, pulling up my text thread with Spencer. Thank you for the incredibly thoughtful gift. I hope we can see each other before you leave for the holidays. xx

  When he doesn’t reply right away, I return to the kitchen to tidy up and put the clotted cream in the fridge. I putter around, doing things that don’t need to be done tonight, and checking my phone every few minutes.

  When Spencer still hasn’t responded by the time I go to bed, I think maybe it’s for the best. Having Jordy live here and spending chunks of my free time with Spencer have shown me something I didn’t realize before: I’ve been lonely. It never occurred to me previously because I kept so busy between work and my friends. My life has felt fuller since Jordy has been here, even though it’s only been for a short time. When Spencer returns from England, I wouldn't want to unconsciously slot him into the empty space left by Jordy. It wouldn’t be fair to him to take on the burden of filling the void in my life.

  With that thought in mind, I turn off my phone and crawl into bed.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Over the next few days, I throw myself into two things: work, and spending as much time as possible with Jordy. She’s leaving this Friday and, even though I knew it was coming, time seems to fly by extra fast.

  Wednesday is her last day working at the center. Despite Jordy’s protests, I throw her a small going away party, an open house of sorts in my office where people can hang out, say their goodbyes, and have some snacks.

  We’re both mostly silent on the drive home after work. I think it’s finally hitting Jordy that she’s leaving the day after tomorrow. We only have two more nights together, and tomorrow will be our last full day before she leaves for the airport mid-afternoon on Friday.

  “What do you want to do for dinner?” I ask when we’re a few minutes from the house. “Go out? Order in? Make something? Whatever you want.”

  “Can we order in and watch cheesy Christmas movies?” The way she didn’t hesitate before answering makes me think she’s been cooking up this plan and was waiting for the opportunity to suggest it.

  “That sounds perfect.”

  We spend the next few hours eating—first pizza, then some of the snacks from Spencer’s gift basket, then popcorn—and watching movies. The living room is dark except for the lights from the Christmas tree and the strings of white lights around the room. It’s cozy and homey, and it fills me with a bittersweet feeling I try to ignore.

  At the end of the second movie, Jordy flops back on the couch with a gusty sigh.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  She keeps her eyes on the TV screen, where she’s scrolling through movie selections. “I was just thinking…I’m so glad I get to spend the holidays with my brother. It’ll be our first Christmas together in years. He told me not to expect too much because his bosses will be away for a few days, but he promised to find a way to make it special for the two of us.”

  “I’m sure just being together will make whatever you do feel special.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I told him.”

  I wait, sensing there’s more she wants to say.

  “I feel super guilty for saying this, but I’m disappointed I won’t get to spend Christmas here with you. When you told me about the dinner Evie’s mom has, I pictured being invited and getting to have my first ever big Christmas, you know? The kind they have in these movies, with a houseful of people, a ton of food, and Christmas decorations everywhere.”

  Sadness washes over me. I understand the battle between guilt and gratitude; the mix of sensations became familiar when I was her age. I had planned to ask Evie’s parents if Jordy could come to dinner, knowing they wouldn’t hesitate to welcome her with open arms. I don’t want to tell her I’m disappointed too because she’s already ‘in her feels’ as Stella would say, and I can’t add to that. But…

  “Do you think I’m a terrible person?” she asks. “That I should just be grateful for what I have and stop complaining?”

  “No!” I shift to face her, taking her free hand in mine. “No, never. I actually just experienced one of those lightbulb moments and was trying to figure out if what I’m thinking could work on such short notice.”

  “What were you thinking?” Her tone is wary, but her eyes are bright with curiosity.

  “What if we have a big Christmas dinner here before you go? I could invite my friends and we could cook a feast.”

  Jordy shrinks into the couch. That’s definitely not the reaction I was expecting or hoping for. “You don’t have to do that,” she mumbles. “We’d have to do it tomorrow and that’s way too soon.”

  “I think we could pull it off, but only if you want to. It’s completely up to you. But if you’re worried about it being too soon or too much work, it would be dual wish fulfillment: you getting the big Christmas you’ve always dreamed of and me getting to host a holiday dinner here. I’ve never had the confidence to do it all on my own.”

  Jordy stares straight ahead at the TV. I follow her gaze to see the screen frozen on a promo still for another holiday movie. An eclectic group of paper-crown-wearing people sit around a table laden with food. Some of them are laughing, others are sharing an intimate moment, while a few of them look frazzled.

  “I guess it couldn’t hurt to make a few calls,” she says slowly, her eyes still glued to the television. “See if your friends are even available on such short notice, especially on a weekday. And we’d have to go shopping really early tomorrow morning to get everything we’d need…”

  I suddenly realize I’ve been holding my breath in anticipation while she speaks. I let it out on a breathless laugh. “I’ll call Louisa and recruit her help with calling the others.” At Jordy’s nod, I hop up from the couch and grab my phone.

  Over the next hour, Jordy watches me pace around the living room, making calls and sending texts. When I finally collapse on the couch beside her, her wariness has been replaced by excitement.

  “It’s a go?” she asks.

  “It’s a go. Evie is going to pick up a turkey, Stella offered to get desserts from Cravings, Louisa’s going to make her grandmother’s traditional Christmas pudding, and the guys are going to bring drinks and snacks, while we handle the rest.”

  Jordy claps her hands and bounces in place, rocking me until I tumble against her. We share an awkward, giggly hug. Her reaction is worth all the work tomorrow is going to be.

  “Unless I missed something in your flurry of calls and texts, it seems like you didn’t invite Spencer,” Jordy says.

  “Right, Spencer…” I’ve barely spoken to him this week. He finally replied to my text on Saturday and said he was glad I liked the British treats. He didn’t acknowledge the second part of my text where I asked if we could see each other before he leaves for London. “He’s got a lot going on right now and he’s leaving soon too.”

  Jordy makes a non-committal sound. “Couldn’t hurt to invite him, could it?” When I only tilt my head back and forth, she turns to face me fully. “Hollie. You’ve been such a great friend to me and you’ve helped me in countless ways, so I’m going to do the same for you now.”

  “Why do I feel like you’re able to impart some wisdom that’s beyond your years?”

  “Because that’s exactly what’s about to happen. Buckle up.”

  Swallowing a laugh, I shift to mirror her position so we’re face to face. I make a show of shaking out my arms and stretching my neck, which makes her roll her eyes and scoff playfully. “I’m ready.”

  “Okay. It’s pretty simple: Spencer likes you and you like Spencer. I know you each have your own things that are holding you back, but you can’t live like that forever. Spencer’s been really good to me. To both of us. If he can’t come, he can’t come, but if it were me, I’d feel crappy if I wasn’t at least given the option. Basically: get out of your own way and call him. If I’ve learned anything from watching these ridiculous, cheesy, cliché movies, it’s that Christmas is a time for love and miracles.” Her eyes twinkle as she speaks. “Maybe spending Christmas with Spencer would be the start of your own love story.”

  I can’t deny watching the type of movies we did tonight fills me with hope that I’ll someday find my own true love. What if Jordy is right and inviting Spencer is the thing that finally sets things into motion? Nothing else has seemed to work. Or…alternatively, maybe it would be the thing that shows me it’s time to move on and accept that friendship is all I’ll ever have with Spencer. Either way, it would be good to know, wouldn’t it?

  I let out a sigh that ends on a groan. “What am I going to do when you’re not here to guide me?”

  “You’ll be fine,” she says immediately. “Just like I’ll be fine, as scared as I am to start over in a new place.” She jerks her chin toward my phone. “Call him. You don’t know if you don’t ask.”

  I dial Spencer’s number, feeling a rush of nervous excitement. It quickly turns to disappointment when the line switches over to voicemail. I leave a message, telling him it’s important I talk to him tonight, and asking him to call me back as soon as he can. When I hang up, I casually suggest to Jordy that she call him in case he’s screening his calls and avoiding me, but her call goes to voicemail too.

  Setting my phone on the table so I won’t be tempted to look at it every five seconds, I pick up a pad of paper and a pen. “Let’s make a menu and a shopping list, shall we?”

  Jordy and I head to bed a little over an hour later. Instead of images of sugar plums dancing in my head, I’m pretty sure I’ll be dreaming about peeling endless potatoes and finding enough cutlery and chairs for everyone.

  And just like the night of my birthday, I go to bed without hearing back from Spencer.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The next morning, Jordy and I agree to divide and conquer: she’ll stay at the house and clean while I head to the grocery store to tackle our rather daunting list.

  I had a missed call from Spencer this morning when I woke up, although he didn’t leave a message. I put him out of my mind as I make my way around the crowded grocery store, filling my cart with what looks like enough food to feed an army. I told Jordy I want to go all out and make today as special and memorable as possible. In my mind, I’m doing this for her, but my heart knows it’s as much for me as anything. I need this last hoorah with her, and to be surrounded by the people I love in the home I’ve worked so hard to make my own. Hopefully those memories will carry me through when the loneliness of an empty house sets in.

  I’m perusing the frozen vegetables and pondering whether I want to buy canned cranberry sauce or attempt to make it myself when someone comes up beside me and stands way too close. I inch away, eyes on the frozen peas. The person inches along with me.

  Swallowing an exasperated sigh, I lift my head and meet a pair of familiar dark blue eyes.