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“I’m visiting my parents. In Gainesville.” He said it as though prompting her memory.

“How did I not know you were from here?” Phoebe shouted. The market was growing crowded and loud.

“I think you just forgot,” he yelled back.

“I could have sworn it was Atlanta,” Phoebe muttered. But apparently he heard her, because he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“What?” Phoebe dodged a large family walking in a horizontal line. She had to wait a beat next to a booth selling popcorn before Jonathan caught back up with her.

“I can see you still have trouble remembering things about other people.”

“Ouch.” Phoebe clutched her heart. “Are you referring to my face blindness?”

“You know you don’t actually have face blindness.”

They laughed and continued walking. His elbow brushed hers.

“And you?”

“Solo getaway for the holidays.”

“You didn’t want to go to the annual Keller Hanukkah party?”

“You remember.” Phoebe grinned. “But no, I needed a vacation.”

“’Scuse me.” Jonathan swayed as a woman bumped into him. The market’s Christmas music could barely be heard over the sounds of laughter and conversation.

There was a bench ahead of them, outside the Santa tent.

“Should we sit there so we can actually talk?” Phoebe pointed.

Jonathan ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe we should go somewhere quieter.”

“We can head back to the house I’m staying at,” Phoebe said without pausing to think.

“Okay. Sure.”

They looked at each other, neither of them saying anything.

“But first—”

“Should we—”

They broke into identical grins and said together, “Santa pictures!”

It wasn’t that they shared a deep love of Santa Claus. It was just that they had done this before. Their junior year of college, they’d gone to the Nordstrom downtown—Phoebe had needed new boots, and Jonathan had always been willing to accompany her on random errands—and they’d seen the snow-flocked Santa’s grotto in the middle of the department store. It started with Jonathan jokingly asking if Phoebe wanted to take a picture with Santa, Phoebe saying “Sure” as if she didn’t know he was joking, and then both of them waiting for the other to chicken out. Soon they were up. Santa didn’t blink as the line of small children filtered past to reveal two large, college-aged children. “Come on up, don’t be shy,” he’d called. So they had. They had both kept the photo on their respective fridges for the next two years.

Now, they were not the only adults waiting in line. There were families and couples and children decked out in their holiday finest.

“I feel underdressed,” Jonathan whispered.

“You look fine,” Phoebe whispered back. He wore jeans and a checkered button-down shirt. Phoebe glanced quickly at him before looking straight ahead. The more she looked at him, the more she felt compelled to ogle the way he had grown up and filled out. And no one wanted to be ogled, least of all Jonathan, who had always verged on self-conscious.

The ambient chatter and holiday music relieved them of the need to carry on a conversation. It felt strange to have a prolonged awkward silence with Jonathan Lee—but it felt even stranger to be standing beside him after not having spoken for eight years.

As the silence stretched on, Phoebe felt the need to say something. “So how’s—”

At the same time, Jonathan said, “How are you—”