Four For Christmas(2)

When Connie had told her about the cruise, about how Lee’s best friends had all gotten “together” in a four-way relationship afterward, Georgia had decided Colorado must put something strange in the water.

She may live in the state famous for New Orleans, vice and Mardi Gras, but outside of romantic fiction, she had never heard of any woman who truly loved more than one man at a time, let alone three, as that woman Charli claimed to. Not that she had any room to judge. Or that she wasn’t just the tiniest bit envious.

Connie laughed. “Yes, yes. We can discuss my eccentricities later. But you’re not crazy, hon. You are wonderful. Georgia? Did I mention how happy I am that you decided to come? Lee and Lori Ann can’t wait to meet you. And, well, I have some news…”

Georgia waited, thinking she’d paused for dramatic effect. She held her breath. Was Connie pregnant? “What news?”

Nothing. Static.

“Connie?”

Georgia looked down at her cell phone and swore. No bars. No signal. No news. “Shit.”

She slammed down her thermos and reached for the scarf and gloves on the seat beside her. “Of course. Because that’s how my month is going.”

Now she was completely disconnected. It was an unnerving sensation. What if she couldn’t get the lug nut off or the jack slipped and the car fell on her? She wouldn’t be able to call anyone for help. Or make one last phone call to her recent mistake of an ex-boyfriend to tell him that flashing his secretary at the last office party he’d begged Georgia to come to wasn’t the only reason she’d broken up with him. She had a list…though she’d refrained from checking it twice until that moment. And she knew exactly why.

Christmas.

She hadn’t wanted to be alone again for Christmas. Just once she wanted to remember what it was like to love the holiday as completely as she had when she was a child. When she thought the day belonged to her. She wanted to not spend her Christmas Eves crying into cartons of store-bought eggnog, watching movies about love and goodwill, miracles and the magic of the season.

With her grandfather gone, her long-widowed mother had taken to spending each year with a group of friends who liked to pretend they were riverboat gamblers. Santa was old hat with the slot machine set. Her younger sister, Valerie, had married as soon as she was legal and moved to live near her husband’s large family in California. They were very traditional there, and apparently none of those traditions included inviting the in-laws for the holidays.

Though they did send beautifully handcrafted Christmas cards.

She supposed she was used to it. Being alone. As a writer, she lived alone with her dog, her wild imagination and her tendency to talk to her characters as if they were real. Her only human friends were the other writers she corresponded with online, all of whom lived in different states. And Connie, of course. She rarely had the chance to go out and meet any new friends who lived nearby, let alone a decent man. Decent, in this context, being one who didn’t disappoint her just in time for the holidays, insuring she would spend another year realizing her secret stash of mistletoe was pointless, and thinking up creative new insults to verbally hurl at those poor, unsuspecting seasonal jewelry commercials.

A part of her, she knew, still wanted all the holiday magic to be true. Still knew every carol by heart. Still believed every clichéd phrase that told her if she were really good, something amazing would happen to her—that love, like Santa himself, was real. You just had to have faith.

”Yeah, right,” she muttered, wrapping her scarf around her neck and mouth and bracing herself before opening the driver’s side door. “It is not a wonderful life and no, Virginia, there is no Santa Claus. There are just people like Connie’s friend Charli, who are never alone, and people like you…who will always be.”

Which was fine with her. Who needed three demanding men always looking over her shoulder? Three men who each wanted all of her attention. It sounded like three potential heartbreaks waiting to happen. And far too kinky and complicated for someone like her to contemplate. Just the physical aspect alone boggled her mind. There were only so many positions after all.

She didn’t need that kind of company. She’d never needed anyone but her laptop and her dog. As long as she had a power source and some kibble, she’d be fine.

She got out and looked up at the clouds that blocked the sun, her eyes squinting at the sharp wind that blew shards of snow into her eyes. She was safely on the side of the road, with mountains ahead of her and a wide, snow-filled plain beside her. No trace of civilization. No passing cars.