Page 20 of The Holiday

“It does tend to feel that way with siblings,” Heather says offhandedly, thinking of her own family. Her brother and sister are as different as night and day to her, and both distanced themselves as soon as it was clear that Heather was prone to dating and marrying men who were old enough to be her father or grandfather. That said, if she called either of them, she knew they’d pick up. She’d do anything for them, and no matter what happens in life, she feels relatively certain that most siblings feel that way about the people they grew up with.

Celia stands there, hands still on the counter as the oven timer beeps again. This time she turns around, slides on her oven mitts, and pulls out a casserole dish, which she sets on the stovetop.

“I just want him to be happy,” Celia says as she moves around, opening and closing drawers. “Serving spoons?”

“Last drawer on the right,” Heather says automatically.

“Thanks.” Celia shoves the spoon into the edge of the casserole somewhat roughly and then turns back to Heather. She stares at her, long and hard. “Let me ask you something: can you make him happy?”

From the living room come the sounds of the two men chatting about sports and answering the kids’ questions about Santa Claus. Heather almost smiles, but the look on Dave’s daughter’s face, which is intense and anticipatory, stops her short.

“I can try,” Heather says honestly. “I love him very much. Dave is a special man, and he’s agreed to spend half the year down here on Shipwreck Key with me, while I’ve agreed to spend half the year in Rhode Island for him. We’ll do the best we can to make each other happy, and to live a good, active life together.”

“I hear you’ve been married a few times before,” Heather says, arching an eyebrow as if she expects that the fact she knows this will bowl Heather over. It does not.

“Five times,” Heather says honestly. If she’s ever going to win Celia’s trust, she’s going to have to be open with her. “Dave will be my sixth.”

“My god…” Celia shakes her head. “That’s insane.”

The judgment in her voice is hurtful, but Heather soldiers on. She lifts her chin slightly, letting Celia know that being judged by another woman for her choices isn’t going to hurt her.

“To some people, yes, but it’s how my life has gone. I’ve loved a lot, and I’ve mostly loved men who were older than me. Quite a bit older.”

Celia snorts again, and Heather is starting to think of it as her signature sound. “Why the older men, Heather? Is it the money?”

This feels like a punch to the gut.

“My first marriage was all about love and security. The next four were just love. The fact that most of them had a fair amount of money wasn’t really important to me. But Celia, you have to understand that most men of a certain age have worked their entire lives and have amassed some sort of money. Many have real estate, stocks, savings. It isn’t that I went searching for rich men, it was more that I went looking for love, and I found men who were at a point in their lives where they’d worked hard and found some success.”

Celia listens, but there's a hardness to her face that's unmistakable. Finally, she nods, but she won't meet Heather's eye again.

"Would you be willing to sign a prenup? Because I think you should. My parents worked too hard--together--to earn what my dad has now, and I don't want him to lose everything when you two don't work out."

Rather than saying anything she might regret, Heather blinks a few times. As a woman who has been down this road before, it's not the first time she's been confronted by an adult child worried about their father's estate, but it is the first time she's been asked to sign a prenup on Christmas morning by a daughter who is already assuming that the marriage won't work out.

"If that's what Dave wants," she says after considering it. "I will do whatever Dave asks of me, but it's up to him to make that request." And she will do it--if Dave asks her to. But it's not his daughter's place to demand it, and Heather is suddenly feeling extremely tired. She'd like nothing more than to go back to bed with a book while she lets the Hutchens family enjoy their Christmas morning.

In fact, that's exactly what she's going to do.

Rather than explain herself, Heather plucks a croissant from the basket, and then she tops up her coffee. Celia watches her with curiosity as she moves around the kitchen.

With her hands full, Heather turns in the doorway and looks back over her shoulder at Dave's daughter. "Tell everyone I said Merry Christmas. I'm going back to bed. Enjoy your breakfast."

* * *

As the day wears on, Dave comes to check on Heather several times.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" he asks with a frown the first time he comes up.

And then, on his second visit to her bedroom when he finds her propped up in bed and reading a book on her Kindle: "You missed the breakfast Celia worked on all morning. I think she was really upset."

"Hmm." Heather reaches for her coffee and sips it. It’s gone cold. ”Sorry about that. But I don't think she missed her future stepmother joining you all on Christmas morning."

Perplexed, Dave closes the door behind him and comes to sit on the foot of the bed. "Did something happen in the kitchen?" he asks, looking worried. "I thought we were all having a nice time."

"I'm just feeling rundown," Heather says with a calm smile. "I want to make sure I'm at my best on our wedding day."

Dave nods, looking thoughtful as he shifts his gaze to the window. "Right. Of course." They're both quiet for a long moment. "I want you feeling good that day, too. What can I do for you?"