A British love at first sight

Chapter 4

I'm lucky, every time Mackenzie came to see me, I had customers, and I didn't go see her, choosing to forget about the incident from this morning. I rub my hands together as a delivery person rings my doorbell, already looking forward to what they're bringing me. I unwrap the books, check if I have any reservations before entering them into my computer and placing them on the shelves. I'm in the middle of rearranging my storefront when the doorbell rings again. I'm elated! Another delivery. Opening the door, it's ecstasy! Boxes from my stationery supplier. I leave everything to unpack my new stock, put price tags on items, and place them on the shelves. I open a second box, taking out items that I don't remember ordering. I empty the box, looking at everything. Clearly, it's not for me, but for the guy across the street. I put everything back in the box and take it to my storage room, planning to deliver it to him later. Finishing up my storefront, I watch him cross the street, carrying a box as if he just rescued a baby puppy – he's almost patting it to reassure it.

"It's for you, delivery mistake," he says, handing me the box. "Easy to figure out, I don't sell this stuff," he adds with a certain condescension before leaving my kingdom.

"Idiot!"

I said it out loud, once the door close, his store's door. Opening the box, I discovered the rest of my order, including my best-selling items. As I headed toward the storage area, I tucked his box under a shelf and placed something in front of it to keep it out of sight. Returning to the shop to arrange my order, I managed to forget about my obnoxious neighbor. When the lunch break alarm chimed, I settled behind the counter, gazing at a section of my bookstore that would soon transform into the Christmas display. Simultaneously, I checked in with my Chinese supplier, all while nibbling on my meal. I amazed myself sometimes, juggling three tasks at once. Yet, as a hand brushed past my screen, I startled, certain it wasn't mine. Adorned with bracelets, and wearing a lovely blue striped blouse similar to Mackenzie's, the hand stole my attention. My gaze locked onto my friend.

"Are you okay?" she asks, concern evident in her voice.

Is there a hint of guilt I'm picking up, stemming from her lack of insight earlier this morning?

"I'm fine, Mac. I was just thinking about my Christmas display."

"About this morning..."

"Just forget about it. I was still on alcohol fumes. Sorry if I made things awkward. You know me, always cracking jokes."

And just like that, the situation is defused.

"Do you want to go out tonight or come over?"

"I promise, Mac, I'm all good. I'll find a place for a few days. Spending Christmas alone is nothing new, not my first time. I'm not going to keep imposing on you every time I feel lonely."

"But it's different this year, I'm sorry, I forgot."

Forgot what?

I try to figure out what sets this Christmas apart from the others. I don't want to be with family, no, it's the same as usual, nothing special.

"It's your twentieth Christmas without your parents," she explains, noticing my confusion.

This one I didn't it see coming. I push aside my lunchbox and wrap my friend in a tight hug. I hadn't made that connection. Why all the insistence for me to spend the holidays with my family this year? They want to have a damn commemoration! Suddenly, I'm even more determined not to go.

"Let's run away together," I say, taking her hands and holding them close to me.

Mackenzie looks at me, uncertain.