Page 6 of Christmas Is All Around
“You’re right!” he said excitedly. “That’s right where Pip sits—there on that chaise, right by the fire!” He paused to look at Charlotte, entirely serious. “Do you think the dog that sat at his feet is still alive?”
“Kit,” Charlotte said, horrified by this betrayal.
“Probably not,” he conceded. “It was twenty years ago—that would be an incredibly healthy dog.”
“Maybe he gained immortality through the magic of Christmas,” Ava managed to get out before collapsing into giggles again.
“I thought you were myfriend,” Charlotte said to Kit, ignoring her sister entirely.
“Kitloves Christmas, Truly,” Ava confided. “I’ve convinced him never to bring it up around you, but I guess it’s too late now.”
Kit shrugged apologetically. “I can’t help it,” he said earnestly, spreading his hands. “The scene where Pip finally moves to New York and into the brownstone next door to Tallulah, and he sets his stationery away in a desk drawer, because he won’t need it anymore…” He trailed off, his eyes going misty. “I don’t see how youdon’tlike it.”
“I don’t like any Christmas romances,” Charlotte said stonily.
Kit looked crestfallen. “Butwhy? Love and Christmas? My two favorite things!”
Ava gave her husband a sideways look. “Ahem. Aren’tAlice and Iyour two favorite things?”
“Two favoritepeople,” Kit corrected. “An entirely different category.” He pressed a kiss to Ava’s temple, and she appeared mollified; Kit, meanwhile, looked back at Charlotte. “I know you were a bit traumatized byChristmas, Truly, but surely you don’t need to be prejudiced against the entire genre?”
“I do,” Charlotte insisted. “Because Christmas romances arebad.The meet-cutes under implausible circumstances! The elaborate festive tasks that require the protagonists to join forces and discover the joy of Christmas! The quirky, borderline-contrived Christmas rituals! The meddling supporting characters! The third-act fights! The sudden, improbable snowfalls! Kissing in front of Christmas trees! It isall terrible.”
Kit shook his head. “I think you just need to meet a handsome man from a small village whose family livelihood is tied to the festive season and who teaches you to view the holidays through new eyes,” he said solemnly. “You’ll be discovering the joy of Christmas in no time!”
“If that happens, please take it as a warning sign that I’ve suffered some sort of head injury,” Charlotte said darkly; at that moment, John and Simone reappeared, bearing an entire tray of mugs of mulled wine, one of which Charlotte seized eagerly, taking a hasty gulp and then immediately spitting a mouthful of scalding-hot wine into her mug.
“Jesus Christ,” she coughed, barely managing to avoid upending the entire mug.
“The steam rising from the surface is often viewed as a warning,” Ava said sweetly.
Charlotte shot her a look, then took another, more cautious sip. When she wasn’t burning the roof of her mouth off, it was delicious.
“Isn’t this nice?” Kit asked cheerfully; Charlotte had already realized, over the course of the past few days, that the Adeoyes’ enthusiasm for all things Christmassy must be some sort of genetic trait that they had passed down to their son, because Kit seemed genuinely delighted by every single decoration he spotted. In this instance, however, Charlotte had to grudgingly admit that he was correct: once she recovered from her initial horror at her unwitting visit to a hub ofChristmas, Trulynostalgia, she could appreciate that their current surroundings held a certain degree of charm.
The soaring entrance hall in which they found themselves was a holiday wonderland: there was the Christmas tree—still unlit, of course, though not for long—and also the oak banisters bedecked with greenery; the (also currently unlit) fairy lights strung from the timbered ceiling; and the antique vases overflowing with sprigs of holly berries that were placed on nearly every available surface.
It was Christmassy without being cloying—and it was the latter quality that so often set her teeth on edge whenever she was being forced into some sort of holiday activity.
“Is something going to actually… happen? At some point?”
“What do youneedto have happen?” Kit asked earnestly, sipping from his own mug of mulled wine with frank delight. He appeared to be a man entirely in his element: surrounded by his family, drinking mulled wine, and wearing a Christmas sweater featuring all eight reindeer. (Rudolph, notably, was absent, because Kit considered Rudolph to be a “corporate invention.”)
“Well, when are they going to switch on the tree?” Charlotte asked. “That’s why we’re all here, isn’t it?”
“They have tobuildto the moment,” Kit informed her earnestly; next to him, John nodded eagerly, and the resemblance between father and son was almost unsettling. “Also,” he added, more practically, “they wait until it’s fully dark—I don’t think the switch-on itself is until five thirty.”
Charlotte checked her phone and noted that it was only four. “How are they possibly going to keep us entertained for this long?” She glanced down at her mug of mulled wine and decided to carefully ration it.
A few seconds later, as if summoned by her words, there was a slight commotion at one end of the room, near the Christmas tree; the brass band had wrapped up their rendition of “Santa Baby” (which felt like an odd choice for their current setting, but Charlottewasn’t the Christmas police), and a woman who looked to be about Simone’s age, dressed in a floor-length red dress and a snowy-white apron, stepped forward, clutching a mic.
“Hello, everyone! I’m Elaine Calloway… but for today, you may address me as Mrs. Claus!”
There was a great deal of enthusiastic applause in response to this.
“And this,” she said with a dramatic wave of the hand, “is—”
“Mrs. Cratchit,” said the woman who had taken Charlotte’s money at the entrance. She had a heap of messy dark hair that had been somewhat tamed into a braided knot at the back of her head, and at some point since Charlotte had last seen her, she appeared to have smudged flour on her cheeks for dramatic effect. “Naught but a humble housewife, suffering the effects of my husband’s employer’s greed.” She offered a lip wobble; Charlotte glanced sideways at Ava, who was watching this performance approvingly.
