Monday at work, Holt is surly as hell. He acts out his scenes but it’s a stretch. Greg has to cut repeatedly because of it. But Tuesday, he shows up a new person. He must’ve taken a handful of happy pills. Damn, I want some of those. The dude is all sunshine and daisies. Even Danny comments on it.

“I don’t know what happened overnight, but whatever it was, I want it to keep happening.”

“Me too. And can I drink some of that fairy juice?”

Danny laughs.

We’re shooting outside, and the weather has been gorgeous. Holt’s on top of his game and things are back to the way they were a couple of weeks ago. It’s as though we were both made for this—to work together. Why can’t he always be like this?

Thursday is Christmas Eve. We’re off Thursday and Friday for the holidays. Holt is fine the remainder of the week. I worry how he’ll be when we resume after Christmas. These are the most crucial, poignant scenes. Whatever he does for Christmas, I hope it involves dipping into his happy juice.

Harrison calls on Wednesday night and says he’s on a plane, flying to Virginia. I’m a bit disappointed, but I expected as much. His parents seem like great people and he should spend time with them. It would be nice to have that in my life. I haven’t talked to him since our disagreement, so I was surprised he even called. We don’t linger on the phone, and the truth is I miss him, so it makes it a little awkward.

“Have a great time. Merry Christmas, Harrison.”

“You too, Midnight. I’ll call when I get back.”

Guess it’ll be Netflix and me.

But I’m happy when Helen calls.

“Hiya, movie star. Whatcha doin’ tomorrow?”

“Ha. Funny. I have zero plans, other than a date with my TV.”

“Good. Let’s cook. My place or yours?”

“Yours,” I say.

We plan our dinner and I run out to the store to get what’s needed. I take the time to stuff my hair under a baseball cap and throw on some sunglasses. You never know when someone with a camera will be around.

Helen and I decide turkey’s out and opt for something a bit more glamorous. I’m taking a stab at beef Wellington, which I’ve never done before. I’m praying I don’t annihilate it. She’s doing some fancy French potato dish and a salad, plus cheesecake for dessert. Turns out Helen loves to cook.

Christmas Eve, I sleep in and it’s wonderful. When I’m getting out of the shower and toweling off, my phone rings. I see it’s Harrison Facetiming me.

“Uh, hi.”

“Merry Christmas. Did you just get out of the shower?”

“Yeah, my towel must’ve clued you in.”

He flashes a sexy grin and my heart thumps. I hope the towel doesn’t fall off.

“Uh, it might have. I wanted to call before we left.”

“Left? Where are you going?”

“To Aunt Edith’s. We’re eating lunch with her at her retirement village.”

“Hmm. Sounds like fun.”

“Yeah. She has it bad for Ralph, the sexy magician. He likes to pull quarters out of the ladies’ bras, or so Mom says. They like that better than the traditional bunny out of a hat.”

“Is that so?”

“Uh-huh. And he also serenades everyone. Evidently, he’s rather handy with his maracas too. Tosses them around, but he didn’t catch one once and it hit Aunt Edith’s friend Hattie in the back of the head. It knocked her wig off kilter and her false teeth popped out so they’ve asked him to stop juggling.”

“You’re joking.” I’m dying.

“No, it’s a true story.” He’s laughing now. “Apparently Hattie’s teeth landed in her chicken noodle soup and she had to spoon around for them. Luckily, she found them with all the teeth intact.”

“Oh my God. What else does Ralph do?”

“Mom says he’s a master bingo player. He can play ten cards at once.”

“I need to meet this Ralph. Sounds like a real charmer. Does he snore?”

“Now that’s a question for Aunt Edith. I believe he’s a two-timer though.”

“Did Aunt Edith catch him cheating on her?”

“Oh, yeah. She called him out in front of the whole dining room. He had to do the walk of shame carrying his plate of roast beef and mashed potatoes. Hazel was there, the woman he was two-timing with, and she was none too happy about it. He’s straightened up since then. You can’t pull one over on Aunt Edith.”

The thought of Ralph and Aunt Edith in a shouting match really gets me laughing. “That place sounds like a soap opera. Anything else happening at the village?”

“Evidently one of the men gave a couple of the ladies gonorrhea. It started a small riot.”

“Jeez. Is this place some sort of hedonistic, elderly, sexcapade village?”

“That’s what I asked Mom. I’m going to give Aunt Edith a box of condoms for Christmas.”

After I stop laughing, I ask, “What’s after lunch?”

“Just the usual. Dinner reservations and then some party. In the morning, we’ll have our traditional Christmas breakfast, after which we’ll open presents.”

My voice takes on a dreamy quality. “Sounds perfect.” I’m so envious of what he has. I wonder if he knows how lucky he is.

“What about you?”

“I’m cooking with Helen tonight. We’re doing up a fancy meal. I wasn’t aware how fond of cooking she is.”

“Hmm, neither was I. What are you cooking?”

When I tell him, his eyes widen. “Wow, I’m impressed. Can’t wait to hear about it.”

“I’m sure your day will be awesome.”

“And what about Christmas?”

“No plans. Probably watch Netflix or something.”

“I’m sorry.”

I look closely and notice his knitted brows.

“Why? Because you still don’t like my jaded past?” I say it as a joke, but now that it’s out, the truth hits him hard.

He brushes a hand over his face, top to bottom, then says, “I ... I’m just sorry, Midnight.”

“Me too, Harrison. Look, I have to go. Have a Merry Christmas.” I hit the red button before I do something stupid like cry. Life’s a bowl of fucking cherries, isn’t it?

I dress and hunt down my beef Wellington recipe to get my mind off this shit. This better be good because it’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever tried to cook. I prep the mushroom layer and prepare everything else. Then I sear the beef, let it rest, then layer everything on it and stick it in the refrigerator. Now all I have to do is the last part, which is wrap the whole thing in puff pastry. I’ll do that at Helen’s.

I pack everything up and set out for her place.

When I arrive, her apartment smells delish.

I breathe in the aromas. “Oh gosh, this is gonna get real, and soon. It’s like a restaurant in here.”

We hug and she says, “Yeah, it’s good, right? How about a glass of wine?”

“Sounds great.”

As we drink, I take a peek at her made from scratch cheesecake that looks divine. “How did you know how to make this?”

She grins and says, “It’s my specialty. Check these out.” She opens the oven door to reveal a dish of bubbly potatoes that make me drool.

“Oh, God, I’m starving.”

“Well, get that beef prepped so we can eat.”

I do the final assembly, pop it into the oven, and we wait.

Dinner turns out scrumptious. Our bellies are about to burst and we both swear we can’t eat another bite. Afterward, we watch National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation and get drunk together. We don’t have any eggnog to drink, but we make up for it in wine. I end up spending the night in the extra bedroom. It beats going home to my empty apartment. It would’ve been nice if Harrison had been here. But that’s not gonna happen.

Sleep eludes me for more than one reason. You’d think after all this time, I’d be used to spending holidays alone. I’m not. There’s a huge piece of my heart that stopped beating when I was nineteen and no matter what I do, I’ll never be okay with holidays. They fucking suck. I can’t wait to go back to work, even if Holt is pouting again. It beats this any day of the week.