Eamonn, Hope, and Melissa had a weird pseudo-friendship going on. They weren’t even really friends — well, at least, Eamonn and Hope weren’t really friends with Melissa, but, Melissa kept inserting herself into their conversations, and it would’ve been rude to tell her off.

However, Hope’s ex was not part of that group — yet, he joined their table one morning.

“Do I have to teach you a lesson again?” asked Eamonn, standing from the table and cracking his knuckles.

Again with the confrontational attitude! sighed Blitzen. It’s like you haven’t learned anything!

Old habits die hard, said Eamonn. Besides – this guy’s a jerk!

Not every romantic rival is a jerk, chastised Blitzen. Maybe you’re the jerk!

Or maybe I’m not the jerk, Eamonn retorted lamely.

“I’m here to ask you for some help, Hope,” said Jerry, standing, and putting his hands in the air. “I just…look. You were right. Last time we talked, you said I couldn’t do my job, and, you’re right. But, I need your help.”

“What’s he talking about?” asked Eamonn.

“I’m a professor of Regency studies, while Jerry here is a professor of Georgian studies,” said Hope. “He took a job as the historical consultant for this town’s Regency Christmas celebration — which, to be fair, explains a lot about why the Christmas celebrations are so off.”

Eamonn and Melissa gave Hope a blank look.

“Hello? It’s a Regency Christmas, yet he’s focused on Georgian studies?” asked Hope.

Eamonn and Melissa shrugged their shoulders.

“It’s like if Eamonn was asked to be a baseball coach,” said Hope.

“Oh,” said Eamonn and Melissa in unison.

“Let’s say Regency Christmas is football,” said Jerry. “I’m a baseball coach…and I need help from a real football coach now.”

“And there’s not some other ‘football coach’ you can ask?” asked Eamonn. “I think this one’s on vacation.”

“Eamonn, it’s fine,” insisted Hope, putting her arm on Eamonn’s arm, and then, pulling away. She’d gotten so comfortable around him that now, she was acting inappropriately!

“As an academic, I usually wouldn’t get involved in this kind of thing,” explained Hope. “I’m already doing an analysis of this town for my class. But. I’m not making a serious paper for publication. Having a perspective about how people come up with these historically inaccurate events would be valuable.”

“Thanks so much,” said Jerry. “You’re a lifesaver.” He reached across the table and touched Hope’s hand.

“Jerry,” warned Hope. “We’re still over. I’ll give you that one pass, but, the next time it happens — I’m out.”

“Sorry, sorry, I totally understand,” said Jerry, putting his hands up. “I’ll email you the details about the project. Thanks again.”

Jerry got up and grabbed his coffee from the pick-up area and left.

“Who was that?” asked Melissa.

“My ex,” said Hope. “It’s a long story.”

“Can you make it fast? I only have five minutes left on my break, and Norma looks like she’s getting swamped with orders,” said Melissa.

“He’s my ex-fiancé, we broke up a few weeks ago, we’re both professors at the same college, and we both came here to get away from the other person,” said Hope. “He’s a nice guy, just, not for me.”

“Why not?” asked Melissa bluntly.

“That’s not a polite question to —” started Eamonn.

“It’s fine,” said Hope. “He wants a woman who will stay at home, cook, and pop out babies — and not work. At all. That’s not what I want — at all.”

“You don’t want domestic bliss?” asked Melissa. “Gosh…a rich husband who wants to take care of me…sure sounds like the dream.”

Melissa got up and went to grab her apron and costume. She got changed into her chintzy Regency costume and started working behind the counter with Norma.

“Well, that was awkward,” said Hope, crossing her arms.

“You want me to handle her?” asked Eamonn. “I never know what to do when it’s cattiness. I’m afraid of being too mean.”

“There’s nothing to handle,” explained Hope. “Look. Some women want an MA or an MS…and some women want an MRS. Some women want both, like me, but…Melissa and I have very different ideas about what an ideal life looks like.”

“Are you going to be okay, working with Jerry?” asked Eamonn.

“Yeah, he’s harmless,” said Hope.

“That doesn’t mean he’s not pushing your boundaries,” said Eamonn. “Last time I saw him, he reached for you. This time, he touched you again. If you don’t want him touching you, I can handle it.” Eamonn put his hands on Hope’s hands.

“You mean like how you’re touching me without permission right frikkin’ now?” asked Hope, raising a brow.

“Oh, sorry,” said Eamonn, starting to pull back, but Hope put her hands back on Eamonn’s hands.

“My point is — sometimes, our instincts make us do dumb things, like wipe our noses on our shirts, and after dating someone for three years, it can be hard to remember that you can’t squeeze their hand anymore,” said Hope, squeezing Eamonn’s hand.

“Okay, how about this? Whatever this event is, I’m sure you could use some muscle or some extra hands,” said Eamonn, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel shirt. “I got muscles. I got hands.”

“And you’re a football player turned lumberjack who can make lifting boxes look good,” said Hope, looking at Eamonn’s upper arms as he popped a bicep. She had to admit, she was impressed. He was very muscular, by football player and lumberjack standards.

“What was that?” asked Eamonn, hoping that Hope had just admitted what he’d suspected for a while — that she liked him the way he liked her.

“Nothing,” lied Hope, her cheeks burning crimson like two glassy ornament balls.

“You know, lying this close to Christmas is a surefire way to get yourself on The Naughty List,” said Eamonn.

“Well, well, well,” said a tinkling voice. “If it isn’t the two troublemakers.”

Hope looked up. A young woman and a young man who looked young enough to be her students were standing by the table.

“Uh…can we help you?” asked Hope, looking to Eamonn.

“I just like saying things dramatically,” said the woman with a smile. “My name’s Pandora. This is Jack. Are these seats taken?”

“Nope,” said Eamonn, missing a glare from Hope.

“Great,” said Pandora, sitting down with Jack, across from Eamonn and Hope. “You two aren’t locals. You’re new in town. If you were from here, I’d know. Well. I know who you are, Eamonn.”

“How do you know my name?” asked Eamonn.

“My father is your boss’s boss,” said Pandora with a wink.

“Oh,” said Eamonn. “Santana’s your father?”

“Yep, and he works with Jack’s father, Boreas,” explained Pandora.

“Jack, nice to meet you,” said Jack, shaking hands with Hope and then, with Pandora.

“Well, I’m Hope,” said Hope, shaking hands with Pandora. “I’m a professor, out of town, just like you guessed…studying the town’s Regency Christmas celebration.”

“It’s so historically inaccurate, right?” commented Pandora.

“It is!” said Hope. “I didn’t think I’d meet someone else who thought about it that way!”

“Well, it’s disappointing, because I always saw myself in an empire waist dress, snow falling around my manse, as I danced with my true love to the sound of string instruments,” said Pandora. “I didn’t think it’d just be random late Victorian period stuff. Some of this stuff just seems to be pre-World War I.”

“See, that’s the thing — I get why you’d want that, but, I don’t want that at all,” said Hope.

“You don’t?” asked Jack.

“I prefer to enjoy this stuff at a distance,” said Hope. “I’m not one to get in character. I can’t imagine myself in a fancy dress, at some fancy dance. I think I’d be more like Jane Austen — sitting and taking notes as it all happened, but not participating myself.”

“Well, at some point, she must’ve participated in all the fun,” argued Pandora. “There has to be some Regency Christmas activity you want to do.”

“Making pomanders, sticking cloves in orange, and getting sticky hands and a smelly house? No thanks,” said Hope, rolling her eyes.

“Eamonn, you’re my dad’s employee’s employee, which makes you my employee,” said Pandora. “I order you to help Hope have some good ‘old-fashioned’ Regency Christmas fun! See what I did there? ‘Old-fashioned?’”

“I got it,” said Eamonn with a groan. “Well, you heard the lady, Hope — I have to help you with your Regency Christmas project, the one with Jerry, to act as your supervisor, and make sure you have some fun.”

“Why do I have a feeling I can’t stop you from tagging along?” asked Hope.

“It’s not that you can’t, sweetheart,” said Eamonn. “You know that if you told me to back off, I would. It’s that you won’t.”