December 22
When Rosalind woke on the morning of December 22, she noticed that the winter wonderland had vanished, leaving behind a black slush, but Rosalind's cheerful mood was not dampened. On the contrary, as she got dressed for work, she hummed an upbeat Christmas carol.
At the office, she greeted everyone with a warm smile. Some of her coworkers suspected Rosalind's improved mood was more than just simple holiday spirit; they correctly attributed her happiness to a romance, but no one dreamed the man in question was Brett McCord, one of Hobson and Rowe's top-selling authors.
After Rosalind hung her coat up, she took the time to read the Christmas cards Sara had lined up on the credenza. Every author she worked with, even the non-Christians, had sent Rosalind a holiday greeting card—all except Brett McCord, that is.
Did he send me one last year? she wondered.
It wasn't that she couldn't remember; it was simply that she never took the time to read the cards she received each year. They appeared opened on her credenza each December and then disappeared the first week of January, as though by magic.
There were relatively few calls from her authors that day since most of them were already in a Christmas vacation frame of mind. Rosalind herself wished the next few days were over and Christmas would arrive. With each passing moment, her anticipation heightened. At one point during the day, she actually calculated how many hours there were until Friday morning.
She also found herself absentmindedly practicing writing the names Rosalind McCord and Mrs. Brett McCord on her appointment calendar. When she realized what she was doing, she quickly tore out the page.
That evening after eating the Italian sub she bought at the corner deli, she looked up at the advent calendar on the mantel. There were only four drawers left. She opened the one marked twenty-two and took out a piece of high-quality bond paper. Printed on it, in a Gothic font that so often appears on diplomas, deeds and various legal documents, were two words: divorce decree.
Was it true? she wondered, as she felt a sudden surge of excitement race through her nervous system. Was Brett free? Was there someone she could ask? Some website she could visit that listed divorces in New York State?
No, you have to wait, she reminded herself. Brett is bound to come forward within the next few days. Don't ruin the surprise for him.
