All I Want for Christmas Eve

by Olivia Noble

  My heart sinks. I sit beside him and wrap my arms around his shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Adam. I didn’t mean to push you before you were ready.”

  “You didn’t push me, Eve. I wanted to come along. I offered. I just didn’t realize—” he trails off, staring at the plane.

  “Excuse me,” the flight attendant says. “We really need to get you boarded now, Miss.”

  “What do I do?” I ask him softly.

  “You should go home without me, Eve. Your parents need you.”

  “You told my mom you were coming.”

  “I’m so sorry, Eve, I just can’t. You have to go without me.”

  I realize that I am getting teary-eyed, because this feels suspiciously like a breakup. Actually, it feels identical to a breakup. “Am I ever going to see you again?” I ask.

  He nods. “Of course.”

  But I don’t believe him. This is an excellent way to get rid of me. He got everything he wanted from me and now he’s done. We had super intimate, unprotected sex, that I thought meant something special, but I just got played.

  I slowly trying to salvage what is left of my pride. I pick up my suitcases and turn to board the plane without another word to Adam. I can’t look back, or I risk bursting into tears and revealing how much I care. Clara was right. What did she say? Lukewarm. It was just a lukewarm love and I had just been without any love for so long that it seemed scalding hot to me. But now I’ve been burned.

  The plane seems to be driving around and around the runway, and it’s driving me insane. I just want to get into the sky, and get far away from here. I keep running over and over all the things Adam said in my head. About marriage and being together. It was all a joke. It was all just a trick he played on me, to get some really good hospitality.

  Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dial Clara.

  “Evie?” she answers.

  “You were right. It was lukewarm.”

  “Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry.”

  “I was an idiot. Again,” I say glumly.

  “You were never an idiot, Evie. You were just hopeful. I’m glad you called. I haven’t heard your voice in so long.”

  “I am on a plane, about to head home to Snowflake Creek. Fuck Alaska.”

  “Oh, thank God. I was wondering how long you’d stay in exile,” Clara responds.

  “I just want to be around people who care for the holidays.”

  “Amen to that, sister.” Clara sighs. “I’m going on stage in a few, Evie. I have a really bad feeling in my stomach.”

  “Why? You’re an amazing dancer.”

  “I know,” Clara says, “but everything seems to be going wrong lately. I feel like everyone hates me and wants my job. I thought success would feel so good, but I just feel like there’s a target on my back.”

  “That’s terrible, Clara. It doesn’t sound like your job is very fun.”

  “It used to be. But now it’s just hell.”

  “Well, you’ll get a break soon, right?” I ask her.

  “Twelve more performances in four cities,” Clara says with a sigh.

  “Hang in there, sis. You’ll get through it, and then you can come home and hang out with us. We’ll get drunk.”

  “Oh my god, I haven’t had a drink in so long. That would be divine.”

  The plane starts speeding up, and we say our goodbyes. I stare out the window, feeling my troubles fall away as the plane ascends into the sky. It’s hard to be sad about anything when you’re about to be racing away from your problems at 550 miles per hour.

  I moved out to the middle of nowhere because I don’t like people. But it turns out that even when you live in an isolated place, lightyears away from any other living human, someone can still find you and hurt you.

  It’s my fault. I let it happen. I believed all the bullshit.

  The rest of the plane ride passes by in a blur, and by the time we arrive in Minnesota, I have consumed as many little bottles of vodka as they will let me purchase. Might as well drown my sorrows. I also decided that I will never date anyone again, and never fall in love. I’m going to die an old maid.

  As soon as I get home, I’m going to buy some cats and ugly sweaters.

  That will be my life.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When I get to the family home in Snowflake Creek, I am still wasted. I stumble out of my cab, pulling my suitcases behind me as I walk in a wobbly way toward the front door.

  The door opens before I can even get there, and Mary pops out with her new boyfriend.

  “Evie!” she shouts, rushing forward to hug me.

  “Big sis,” I say, pulling her into a massive hug. I then nod in the direction of her man-friend. What’s his name again? “Hey, Rudolph!” I say, saluting.

  “It’s Sven,” he corrects.

  I walk over to him and pat his arm. “You’re such a good reindeer. For getting on a plane with my sister and coming all the way here. To support her. And be there for her. Because you love her. That’s what good reindeer do.”

  “She’s drunk,” Mary whispers to him, thinking I can’t hear. “I told you she’s a writer.”

  I have still been patting his arm this whole time, and I stare at it, blinking. “Holy shit, what is your arm made of? Steel?”

  “Well, technically muscles are built from fibers made of protein filaments called myosin and actin…”

  “I was being rhetorical! Jeez, he’s handsome and smart? Mary gets all the luck with men. First she has a steady boyfriend for years and years, and then he disappears, and you magically show up to take his place overnight. Everybody loves Mary. There’s something about Mary! Like the movie.”

  “What’s going on, Eve?” Mary asks, wiping my mascara tears away from my cheeks. “What happened with Adam? Are you pregnant?”

  “Probably, knowing my horrible luck,” I say, trudging toward the house. Sven has collected my suitcases and is carrying them inside like they weigh two pounds each. They don’t.

  “Is she okay?” he whispers to Mary.

  “Yeah, she’s fine. This is like that time you walked in on me with all the ice cream and popcorn and sugar,” she whispers back. “I think someone broke her heart.”

  “You’re wrong,” I tell Mary. “Because I have no heart.”

  My dad comes into the living room and throws his arms open wide. “Here’s my little Evie girl!” he exclaims.

  “Daddy!” I rush forward to give him a hug. Then I hiccup. “I was so worried about you.” I hiccup again. “I had to sell your Jeep.” Then I pause. “I loved that Jeep. It was my favorite car. My only car. I shouldn’t have left it behind. Now I have nothing.” I wipe my nose as I begin to sniffle.

  “Uhhh, honey,” my father says to my mom, who has entered the room behind him. “Our little girl reeks of vodka.”

  “Oh, dear,” my mother says, stepping forward and putting her hand on my forehead. “Can I make you a hangover remedy, sweetie?”

  “No thanks,” I say, throwing my arms around her and kissing her cheek. “Love you so much! Missed you like crazy.”

  “You too, sweetie—oh, dear. You don’t look so good.”

  “I just need some sssleep,” I tell them all, stumbling upstairs. I barely notice that Mary is behind me, supporting me as I walk up the stairs. “Bye Mom! Bye Dad! I love you guys!” I shout from the top of the stairs, blowing a kiss in what might be the wrong direction. I don’t know, and I don’t care.

  Mary helps me to my bed, and she tucks me in. She even grabs a makeup wipe to properly remove the mascara streaking down my cheeks.

  “So Adam was a dog?” she asks softly, sitting on the bed.

  “He was so nice,” I say weakly. “And handsome. He was so nice and handsome. He said he was coming home with me, and he chickened out at the last second.”

  “That’s terrible, Evie.” She takes my hand. “Did he have a good reason?”

  “He was scared of the plane. Because of the plane crash.” I make a little airplane with
my hand, and make a vroom noise as I fly it through the air, to demonstrate to Mary how the plane crashed on the night I met Adam.

  “I see,” Mary responds slowly, after staring at the airplane with a raised eyebrow. “That sounds like PTSD, right? Maybe he needs some anti-anxiety drugs to fly? I heard some people are like that. Maybe he’ll call you later, when he’s gathered enough courage to fly?”

  “He doesn’t even have my phone number,” I tell Mary softly.

  “It’s okay, honey,” she says, patting my leg. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  I nod as I fall asleep. But I hear her moving to the door, and talking to someone.

  “We shouldn’t tell her about Clara now. Let’s wait until she’s sober and well-rested.”

  “What’s wrong with Clara?” I ask sleepily, but no one answers me as I drift off to sleep.

  When I wake up, I have a temple-throbbing headache. I wasn’t able to pull my orthopedic pillow out of my suitcase before I crashed. I see that my mom’s hangover remedy is placed on the night table beside me, and I grab it and take a long sip. Then I sigh with relief. Nothing beats my mom’s drinks. Whether holiday themed, alcoholic, or meant to cure a cough, cold, or hangover. She’s definitely got that magic touch that only a mother could achieve.

  I feel a little bit clearheaded, and less insane. I groan thinking of what a train wreck I was when I got home. I’m going to have to apologize to everyone. Reaching for my phone, I scan my messages, and I see some missed calls from Clara. I remember that someone said there was something going on with her.

  Pressing dial, I call my sister.

  “Hey, Evie,” she says, and she sounds miserable.

  “What happened?” I ask. “Someone said—someone said something was wrong?”

  “Yeah. I just smashed my ankle and needed to quit the production,” Clara says, sounding lifeless. “I really wanted to finish every performance of The Nutcracker with the company… but it looks like my understudy got my wish. She and the other girls have only been trying to get me injured badly enough for this to happen for two years.”

  “That’s terrible, Clara. What are you going to do?”

  “I’m already on my way home. I’ll see you soon. But what’s going on with you? When I spoke to mom and Mary, they said you were a drunken mess. Why are you acting like a sorority girl, Evie?”

  “Ughhhhh,” I say, collapsing back on my mattress. Clara and I are a little closer in age, and I feel less embarrassed telling her about my screw ups. “Adam and I slept together, and then he totally ditched me.”

  “Mom says Adam fell from the sky?”

  “Yeah, there was a plane crash. And that’s why he ditched me—he couldn’t get on the plane. So I guess I’m never going to see him again, and I’m an idiot, and that’s that.”

  “What does Adam do?” Clara asks. “What’s his last name? Is it Wintergreen?”

  “Yes. How did you know that?”

  “Because there was a newspaper article about his charity and the plane that disappeared—he was missing for a good sixteen hours before he was able to get his phone out of the plane and text his family that he was safe. It was enough time for the whole country to freak out.”

  “The whole country?”

  “Don’t you know who the Wintergreens are, Evie? He’s heir to a massive fortune. They are oil money, and he’s a philanthropist who flies all over the world, doing good deeds for people. He’s like… the greatest catch you could have possibly caught. He’s on all those most-eligible bachelor lists.”

  “So he’s like really rich,” I whisper. “That’s why he didn’t want me to know who he was. And he’s not married or anything? Is he a major playboy?”

  “No! He’s a prince. He’s basically a nun. I really don’t think Adam Wintergreen would screw you over, Evie. He’s the real deal. He’s not the kind to run around breaking women’s hearts.”

  “But he did break mine,” I say softly. “And I’m probably never going to see him again. And he doesn’t even have my phone number.”

  “Well, we’ve both got problems. I’m never going to dance again, in the career that I dedicated my whole life to training for. And you lost Mr. Right, possibly the most perfect man on the planet for you, who would have made the most epic name to have beside yours on a wedding invitation…”

  “That’s exactly what he said,” I grumble.

  “So I’m going to come home,” Clara says, “and we’re going to be a drunken mess together? Got it? No more drinking without me, loser!”

  I smile. “Sounds good to me.”

  “And we can trash talk Mary and her perfect new boyfriend with his perfect muscles—I saw on Instagram. How does our girl manage to upgrade from a super hot professional hockey player to even hotter dude? Mom told me he’s super nice, too! Screw Mary.”

  “Screw Mary,” I say with agreement.

  Just then, the sister in question pops her head into my room. “Did you call my name? Glad to see you’re awake. Did you need anything?”

  “No, thanks, Mar. Love you!” I say cheerfully, out of guilt. Clara bursts out laughing on the other side of the line. I smile sheepishly, glad that I could make her smile when she’s in pain and feeling down.

  “Okay,” Clara says. “So you, me, drinks, soon. And we will stay drunk all Christmas to get through this painful holiday season.”

  “You’ve got yourself a misery buddy,” I tell her, and I take a deep breath. Maybe the season won’t be so terrible after all. All I know is that I’m glad to be home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I am strolling slowly down Main Street in Snowflake Creek, wearing high-heeled red boots and window shopping for Christmas presents for my family. Mary and Sven are out somewhere grabbing a romantic brunch or whatever together. I think Clara is somewhere around, too. It’s Christmas Eve, and I’m usually not a last-minute shopper. But I just haven’t been feeling the holiday spirit since I got home. However, I pause at the window of a bakery when I see a gorgeous display of Christmas-themed cake-pops. I stare at them for a second, reminiscing about Adam and feeling sad.

  Somehow, the cake pops don’t look that appetizing. Usually I would be thrilled to try every single one of those beautifully decorated sweets. But now, I can only imagine that they would taste like sadness.

  “I think that your reindeer were better,” says a familiar voice.

  I freeze, still staring at the cake pops. I notice the shadow of a taller man in the glass behind me. I do not turn around immediately. I bite my lip.

  “Eve?” he says softly, placing his hand on my shoulder.

  I jump at the touch and turn around sharply, glaring at him. “Adam? What are you doing here?”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t fly,” he says. “Nothing like that has ever happened to me before. I was really embarrassed.”

  I shuffle from side to side, crossing my arms and looking down. “How did you find me?”

  “There’s only one Snowflake Creek in Minnesota. I figured I would just drive up and down every street and ask everyone I saw until I found you. But luckily, there’s only one major street, and the prettiest girl happened to be walking right down the sidewalk.”

  “Oh. So… Did you get over your fear of flying?” I ask him.

  “Not yet. There was no chance of that happening anytime soon. I drove.”

  “You… drove?” I ask.

  “Yes. Thankfully, it was my left leg that was injured. And your car is automatic, so it wasn’t hard,” he says with a grin.

  “That’s like… a five-day drive, if you drive at least ten hours a day. In the summer. In this weather…”

  “I did drive over ten hours a day, Evie. I promised myself that I would do whatever it takes to get home to you. I told you that we’d see each other again, and I mean what I say.”

  I am still reeling from the fact that he called it getting home to me, when I realize what else he said. “Wait—my car?”

  He gestures behind him, at my J
eep. “As soon as you left on that plane, I was mentally kicking myself. I rushed over to the lot where we sold your Jeep, and paid him double what he paid you to get it back.”

  “Rich people,” I say with mock annoyance, but my heart is swelling.

  “See? That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “You really disappointed me,” I tell him softly. “I understand the PTSD, but… I really thought you were just flaking out on me.”

  “Well, I wanted to prove that I would never do that,” Adam says, moving over to the Jeep and opening the door to the backseat. “Look what I brought you!”

  Wrapped carefully in bubble wrap is my green armchair. My grandma Evelyn’s green armchair. I feel tears spring to my eyes. “Adam, you didn’t.”

  “I know how much it means to you,” he says, gently placing his hands on both my arms. “I still think it’s hideous. But you love it, so I wanted to bring it for you. And I hope that you can forgive me for being such a chicken, and bailing on you.”

  “You weren’t being a chicken,” I say, sniffling and rubbing a tear away. “You were traumatized. Of course, I understand that. I just thought you were using it as an excuse to ditch me.”

  “I never would, Evie. I meant everything I said. I know it seemed crazy and soon, to say all the things I said to you, and I totally get why you would think I was just being a jerk and faking—”

  “I didn’t think you were faking,” I say softly.

  “But I meant it,” Adam says. “I meant every word. Of everything. Will you forgive me?”

  “Of course, you idiot,” I say, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him soundly, while tears slip from my eyes. We kiss desperately for a good minute before I notice there is the sound of applause. My sisters are standing nearby and clapping, along with Sven, and basically the whole town. My cheeks turn red, and I try to wave them away for privacy.

  But Snowflake Creek is a small town, and there’s no such thing as privacy.

  “Eve, can I tell you a joke,” Adam asks.

  “No,” I respond softly, as the crowd dissipates.