No Christmas Like the Present by Sierra Donovan

it. Or she thought she did. A shady flicker, just beneath the brightness in Jeanne’s eyes. Lindsay felt a chill of recognition as Jeanne continued.
    â€œWe were on our way out to dinner,” she said. “He just fished into his pocket and brought out this black velvet box. . . .”
    The details faded from Lindsay’s hearing. Because when someone surprised you with a box containing a diamond ring, she knew from experience, there was only one answer that came easily.
    â€œâ€”and what else could I say?” Jeanne finished, with the same big smile firmly in place. The longer Lindsay saw it, the more she sensed the underlying effort behind it. That flicker of doubt.
    She could be imagining it.
    â€œI’ve never been so surprised in my life,” Jeanne added.
    No. It wasn’t her imagination.
    Lindsay kept her own smile in place as well. She didn’t know what else to do.
    It hounded her through the morning. Not just the vision of Jeanne bringing drinks and chips to a couch potato who wouldn’t even say “Thank you”—because, after all, Lindsay didn’t know that was the way Jeanne’s marriage would turn out. She just strongly suspected it.
    What really bothered her was the nagging suspicion that Jeanne knew, deep down, that she was making a mistake. A mistake Jeanne didn’t want to admit to anyone, least of all herself. The same mistake Lindsay had nearly made with Steven ten years ago, before she returned his ring and ran out on him.
    She’d solved her problem, all right. In a way that guaranteed Steven would never want to see her again. A shabby end to a pleasant four-year relationship.
    Pleasant. Now, there was a bland word. Had that been the problem all along?
    Lindsay tried to think back on her time with Steven as she slogged through her morning’s work. Four years together, and she couldn’t remember a single argument. He’d been considerate and dependable. They’d griped about the same teachers, seen the same movies together, and, more often than not, they’d helped decorate each other’s Christmas trees. Pleasant. What was so wrong with that?
    Lindsay thought of the little current that had passed between her and Fred, just from the brush of his finger on her cheek. Then the relaxed contentment of gazing at the tree with his hands resting on her shoulders. Making fudge, walking together on a snow-flanked sidewalk . . . surely all of that was pleasant, too. But it was something more.
    Now she was comparing Steven with an Englishman who’d appeared in her life out of thin air. As if anything real could come out of that.
    Even if she was right about Jeanne, who was Lindsay to give advice?
    Lindsay sighed and looked at her watch. Nearly lunchtime. She wouldn’t be going out for Thai food today; that was a rare splurge, and Jeanne was meeting Brad for lunch to celebrate. Lindsay pulled open her drawer and eyed the sandwich she’d brought yesterday, but day-old peanut butter looked far less inviting than a chance to get out of the office for a while. Maybe a change of scenery would help her get away from thoughts of ex-boyfriends, glittering diamond rings, and that hint of dimness in Jeanne’s smile.
    Lindsay went to the food court at the mall nearby. She could grab some fast food, and maybe she’d manage some quick Christmas shopping after she gobbled her chicken nuggets.
    Predictably, this close to Christmas, the food court was thick with people. As Lindsay stood in line, she went through her gift list mentally: Jeanne, Phil, Evelyn, Matt . . . what could she come up with that she hadn’t already given them before? It got harder every year to find new inspiration. And every year, it seemed like she got a little closer to the wire. Maybe this was the year she should just buy gift cards and get it over with.
    The mall’s Muzak reached her ears, singing about growing a little leaner, a little older, a little