Page 134 of Holidating
“Mm-hmm,” she says dreamily, still gazing at the tree. “I wish I were one of those people who just loves Christmas. But the truth is I don’t.”
“It’s a lot of pressure,” he says.
“It is. But also, my mother loved Christmas so much. And since she died, this time of year always makes me miss her more. It’s always a little hard.”
Ouch.
“How about you?” she asks. “Big fan of Christmas?”
He looks up at the tree again, considering the question. “It’s all right. But I don’t have, like, ye olde happy childhood memories. At my house, Christmas always meant stress. My mother always wanted to celebrate, and my father couldn’t take the pressure.”
“Did they fight?” she asks, still gazing at the lights.
“Sometimes. Or he’d manage to lose his job a couple weeks before Christmas and disappear for a few days. So she was always in distress, trying to make everything seem jolly when it wasn’t. I’m one of the oldest, so I was one of the first to realize that Santa wasn’t real. She used to recruit me and my older brother to help her make it magical for the little kids.”
“Your older brother… Matteo, right?”
“Wow. Good memory. Yeah. One year we went with to, uh, Toys for Tots to help her choose gifts. The toys are free. And everyone who volunteers there is so nice, but I was so embarrassed.”
God, he doesn’t know why he’s telling her all this. Like he’s secretly hoping she’ll recoil from this story, so he can stop wanting to kiss her senseless.
She turns to him, and that forehead wrinkle is back. “Christmas is just theweirdestholiday, isn’t it? There’s this entire mythology for children, all based on lies. With colossal expectations. We all run around trying to pick the perfect gift for everyone like it’s a blood sport.”
“Yeah.” He chuckles because it’s true. “I think you played a solid game, though. Great hustle. Good footspeed. It’s a silver-medal performance at least.”
She bonks him gently with her newest shopping bag. “Let’s buy some wrapping paper and go.”
“Wrapping paper?” He isn’t sure where to find that.
“I saw some at a store by the parking garage. If they also have ribbon, maybe I can win the gold medal. You probably need some too.”
He supposes she’s right.
CHAPTER 4
ON THE RADIO: “IRREPLACEABLE” BY BEYONCÉ
It’s snowing. Hard. This is why Damien has four-wheel drive and the most expensive wiper blades you can buy. After crossing the river and entering New Hampshire, he makes the turn onto Airport Road and feels the car downshift to take the snowy hill.
He climbs steadily, passing the main entrance to the municipal airport. It’s not a popular taxi destination, and until today, he didn’t even know that there was a second airport terminal behind the regular one. Aprivateterminal.
Lebanon, New Hampshire isn’t exactly a destination for millionaires. It’s just a place Vermonters visit to buy cheap booze at the liquor outlet and shop at Target.
But sure enough, the road curves around the top of the hill and brings him to a small parking lot in front of a compact terminal building. There’s a wreath on the door, and beyond the front windows, orange flames flicker in a fireplace.
So this is how the other half flies. He cuts the engine and sits back to wait for Nicolette.
Since it’s her, he’s five minutes early. He’d never want to make her wait. He pulls out his phone and checks it for messages just in case her charter arrived already.
But no. The only message is from his eighteen-year-old sister, Zara. “Call me back!” she says. “Emergency.”
He hits the redial button in case it’s an actual emergency.Knowing Zara, it could really go either way. “Hey,” he says when she answers. “What kind of emergency are we talking about?”
“Can I use your car on Saturday night?”
He closes his eyes wearily. “Probably not, buddy. The holidays are my busy time.” He needs to drive drunk people around and earn tips. “You know this.”
“But there’s a party, and everyone is going.”
