“I am.” I was a bit nervous about today. My resolve to avoid all things Christmas may have gone out the window soon after I arrived in Honeywell, but a party like this somehow felt different from all the other events I’ve attended. Maybe because it’s hosted by people I’ve come to genuinely care about in a home that’s beginning to feel like my own.
My no-strings-attached policy has failed spectacularly and now I’m so tangled I barely know which way is up. But thereallystrange thing is that I don’t mind. I’ve stopped holding myself back, hiding parts of myself, and trying not to get attached. I’ve actually been considering the possibility of finding a way to stay in Honeywell, or at least consider it my home base while traveling for filming. I have no clue how it would work, but I have a few weeks to figure it out before I’m due back in Toronto.
Murph gives my thigh a little nudge, bringing me back to the present. He lifts his plate in offering and I pluck a mini quiche from it with a murmured thanks. “Mae told me I shouldn’t mention it, but we watched the premier of your new Christmas movie last night,” he says.
When I nearly choke on my quiche, Murph chuckles softly, patting my back. I’d completely forgotten the movie was airing last night, but that explains why my social media notifications have been blowing up. I haven’t bothered to check, assuming it had something to do with Alan again, like maybe he and his fiancée had eloped or announced a pregnancy or something. “Why didn’t she want you to say anything?”
“She was worried it’d embarrass you, I think,” he says. “But I like to give praise where it’s due, and you did a fine job. You’re a talented actress, Josslyn. I even had a tear in my eye by the end.”
His words make my cheeks heat with pleasure. “Thank you, Seamus. I can’t lie, it’s always strange knowing my friends have watched my movies, but I appreciate it too. Especially since I somehow doubt cheesy Christmas romances are your first choice when it comes to movies.”
He gives another quiet laugh. “Me? Ah, I’m always up for a love story.” His gaze shifts across the room and his smile grows. I don’t need to look to know Mae is coming our way.
I plant a kiss on Murph’s temple and get to my feet as Mae joins us. “You’re here to take a break, right?” I ask in my sternest voice.
“Right,” she says, enveloping me in a quick hug before taking the spot I just vacated and snuggling close to her husband. “I promise to enjoy the rest of the party. You go do the same.”
I pass through the living room, stopping to admire Mae’s elaborate decorations and talk to people. I’ve just grabbed a mini sausage roll from a passing waiter when Fiona finds me.
“Feel like popping outside for some air?” she asks. “I always get so overheated at these things.”
Her cheeks are flushed, as I’m sure mine are. Itiswarm in here, between all the people packed inside and the fireplace going. I follow her to the kitchen, where our coats are stashed in the tiny closet near the back door, leaving the front closet free for visitors’ outerwear.
We step outside into lightly falling snow. I’ve never been out here before. The porch is half the width of the house, with a furnished section off to the side covered by a tin roof. The backyard stretches as far as the eye can see, broken only by an ancient swing set and a giant tree with a tree house.
“Does your mom always go all out like this for Christmas?” I ask, following Fiona to the covered section of the porch where we can watch the snow without getting wet.
“It’s always a big thing, but she’s really pulled out all the stops this year. I think she thinks…” Her words die off abruptly and her throat works as she swallows hard. “I think she thinks this’ll be Dad’s last Christmas, so she’s making it extra special.”
I don’t know what to say. I can imagine the pain Fiona and Mae must be feeling, along with everyone else who loves Murph. Knowing this is likely their last Christmas with him must make it nearly impossible to put on a smile and muster up holiday cheer.
“I told Mum this morning I wanted to hand off my Christmas tour to another guide and stay in Honeywell through the month instead. She said, and I quote, ‘Absolutely not, Fiona Mae Murphy, I won’t allow it’.” Despite her shaky laugh, her eyes are imploring as they meet mine, as if she’s hoping I won’t judge her or think less of her.
“Like you told that Ingrid woman the other night in the café, you’re spending Christmas with your family. It doesn’t matter if it’s the eleventh of December or the twenty-fifth. You’re here, you’re making memories, you’re spending quality time with your dad. He’s happy and he’ll continue to be happy knowing you’re out there living your dream.”
She sniffles as she bobs her head, her eyes shiny and slightly out of focus. I fish a clean tissue out of my pocket and hand it to her. My pockets have been full of things like tissues, wrapped candies, and small toys ever since I met Rex. Once Fiona has collected herself, she lets out a gusty exhale and turns to me with a bright smile.
“New topic?” she asks and I nod vigorously. “I think it’s safe to say I know where you’ll be spending Christmas this year, but what do the holidays usually look like for you?”
For a moment, I consider echoing her words and suggesting another new topic. “Well, other than last Christmas, Alan and I usually spent the holidays with his parents in Ottawa. Alan bought them this huge house in a fancy neighborhood when he first made a name for himself in acting. Every year at Christmas, his mom hired a decorator and a caterer, and they had this massive party. It was basically an excuse to show off their wealth and their famous son and daughter-in-law. Ihatedthose parties.”
I’ve never said that out loud before. I thought I’d feel guilty, the way I do whenever I talk or think about my mom and my unconventional upbringing. Surprisingly, it feelsfreeing. My former in-laws were nice enough and they always treated me well, but they were opportunistic social climbers.
“Is Mum’s open house giving you terrible flashbacks?” Fiona asks, her brow creased in concern.
“No, no, not at all,” I say quickly. “My in-laws’ parties were cold and impersonal. Everything looked like something out of a magazine spread or one of my movies, but most of the guests had an agenda. They were there to talk business or enjoy a meal prepared by a world-class chef or schmooze with celebs. Not just Alan and me, but various contacts his parents had made through us—other actors, directors, producers.Thisparty, though…it’s like a big, warm hug. You can practicallyfeelthe love and good will radiating off people.”
Fiona’s face glows at my description. “So what about last Christmas? You said you spent the holidays with Alan’s family every year except last year?”
“Oh, yeah.” I scoff and roll my eyes. “Last year, Alan’s gift to his parents was a month-long Mediterranean cruise in December. I thought Alan and I might do something special just the two of us, but we barely acknowledged the holiday. His new movie started filming in Vancouver two weeks after Christmas, but he left on Boxing Day, claiming he needed to get there early to settle into his rental apartment. I realized afterward he was likely celebrating Christmas with his mistress.”
“Ugh, what an asshole,” Fiona says vehemently.
My lips twitch. “You’ll get no arguments from me. Anyway, tell me what you’ll be doing two weeks from today on Christmas Day.”
“I’ll be leading a tour group in London.” Her face lights up at the mention of her adopted city. “It starts on the twenty-second. London is chock-full of people, so it’s totally chaotic, but in the best way. The holiday tours are usually made up of younger people, mostly singles or groups of friends who don’t have families or other holiday plans. London at Christmastime is pure magic. We tour the sites, visit Christmas markets, have a special festive feast on Christmas Day. Then we head up to Edinburgh to celebrate Hogmanay. The tour ends on January third, but I’ll be in Scotland for a few weeks after that for another tour.”
“Sounds incredible. Maybe I should book one of those tours for next Christmas,” I say.
