Page 100 of Must Love Christmas

The young lass waved and blew kisses from her perch atop one of the barstools as the room broke intoawwws and applause.

Garen then thanked each of the members of his committee and all of the volunteers by name—which, Simon noticed, he didn’t need to read from a list. Then he invited the handful of spectators to watch from the seats overlooking the ice upstairs, where they’d have a better view than they would from the warm room.

“Lastly,” Garen said, “I want to introduce our charity, New Shores, which is the reason we’re all here today. But first, a personal take.” He took a breath. “Some of you know my sister and I were adopted from Russia when we were three years old. My mum raised us to feel Scottish and British, though she was an immigrant herself from what was East Germany at the time. She taught me never to take for granted the freedoms and opportunities I’d been given.

“Here in Scotland—and in all of the UK, I still believe—being one of us means opening yourself toallof us. Being one of us isn’t about your place of birth, your skin color, your religion, or your language. It’s about believing in the equality and dignity of all humankind.” Garen held his arm out to John. “New Shores offers that equality and dignity to those who need it most.”

The crowd whooped and hollered.

Simon knew Garen’s words weren’t empty. Though he and Garen were different in many ways, they both just wanted to belong. And they both knew that belonging wasn’t about finding the right place. It was about finding someone—or many someones—who made you feel at home.

* * *

“Welcome to all those watching,whether round the city or round the globe. I’m Garen McLaren, and my co-host today is my flatmate, friend, and brand-new curling fanatic Simon Andreou.”

Simon adjusted his headset and said, “Hello,” then nothing more.

Garen realized he needed a bit of coaxing to come out of his shell. “Simon will be monitoring the live chat while I keep an eye on the ice, so any questions or comments, fire in. But keep it clean, lads and lasses—this is a family-friendly show.” He gave Simon a nudge and pointed to the team lists. “Time to introduce our curlers.”

“Right.” Simon picked up the lists. “On Sheet A, we’ve got ‘Guard Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen’ versus ‘Baby It’s Cold Inside.’” Simon recited the team members’ names, then switched the broadcast camera to the next sheet. “And here on B there’s a showdown between ‘The Little Hammer Boys’ and ‘Hack Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.’” He chuckled. “As a computer guy, I’m a big fan of that name.”

“‘Hack Yourself’ is a team from cybersecurity firm SentiVisiTech,” Garen said, “who have generously donated a top-to-bottom ‘white-hat’ corporate audit as a raffle prize. For those new to curling, the ‘hack’ is also the starting-block thingamie that curlers slide out of. So it’s a doubly clever name.”

“Possibly trebly clever,” Simon said. “We should all hack ourselves a merry little Christmas.”

Garen had no idea what he meant by that, but he looked forward to finding out. “Sorry?”

“Well, sometimes fitting Christmas into our already busy schedules can be stressful. We need good life-hacks to accomplish it.” Simon muted his mic. “Am I digressing?” he whispered.

Garen muted as well. “Yes, but the more Christmas, the better. There’s only so many ways to say, ‘Ooh, that shot creates an interesting dilemma for the skip.’” He unmuted his mic. “I agree, Simon. Everyone, please share your favorite Christmas hacks in the comments or live chat. How do you make merry more efficiently? I like to wrap gifts whilst streaming holiday films on the telly.”

They introduced the rest of the curlers, featuring each matchup onscreen for several moments before moving on to the next. There wasn’t much to discuss in the early stages of a game, so they focused on answering questions and taking comments from the dozens of viewers.

“Here’s a good one,” Simon said. “FoxyMagooTwo says, ‘Please settle an argument between me and my sister, who’s playing for Team ‘Grandma Got Run Over by a Zamboni.’”

“Fun fact,” Garen interjected. “Curling ice doesn’t use a Zamboni. Still, an excellent name. What’s FoxyMagooTwo’s question?”

“Which is better—gift bags or gift wrap?”

“I like both, though I’m notoriously sloppy with either method.” Garen could see by the combative light in Simon’s eye that he was dying to offer his input. “What do you think, Simon?”

“Presents should be wrapped in boxes so they stack neatly under the tree. Gift bags take up too much room, and they look so haphazard, especially since most people haven’t got a clue how to arrange the tissue paper. Half the time the bag tips over and the present just spills out, ruining the surprise.”

Garen laughed, loving the fact Simon had such a strong opinion on a Christmas matter.

Simon looked at the screen. “2PintsRick says, ‘Gift bags are environmentally friendly because they’re reusable.’”

“Excellent argument, 2Pints,” Garen said.

“Okay, let’s bust this myth.” Simon counted off on his fingers. “Firstly, gift bags tend to break or get so crumpled they can’t be used again by any decent person. Secondly, the bags often have that plastic hook thing that hangs them on the shop display. That makes them non-recyclable, as is the tissue paper that goes inside them. Whereas gift wrap is completely recyclable.”

“Not the metallic sort,” Garen said, “which is, of course, the prettiest.”

“Fair point. I’ll allow it.” Simon scrolled through the comments. “Here, AilsaMeg says, ‘Defending gift bags as eco-friendly is just an excuse for laziness.’”

Garen covered his mouth to contain his laughter. They were barely ten minutes into their commentary, and already his boyfriend had started a Christmas YouTube flame war. “And do you agree with AilsaMeg?”

Simon hesitated. “I think it’s best not to make this personal.”

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