Tourists pranced down the sidewalk, peering into shop windows, carrying armloads of green, red, and gold shopping bags. Danny lowered his eyes and booked it to the end of the street.
Single. He was single now, something he hadn’t been in, like, forever. For as long as he or the collective consciousness of North Pole could remember, they’d always been “Danny and Star” or “Star and Danny.” Wherever one went, the other followed. Her friends were his friends and his friends were her friends. Their lives were intertwined to the point where untangling them would be impossible.
Danny bit his lip. He would not cry. Not here. But then the tears started rolling down his cheeks. Danny punched himself in the thigh, but the tears kept coming.
He stopped at the corner of his street and leaned hard on his crutches. Despite the colorful holiday decorations bedecking every house and the perpetual Christmas carols on the wind, the world felt gray and drab. He’d lost everything, everything that had meant something to him since he was ten years old.
Yeah, things had been off between him and Star for a little while, but Danny would 100 percent rewind the night if he could. He’d go back to before the arcade, when he was just an ignorant guy who had no idea Star was kissing Phil Waterston on the side. He could live with that, if it meant he still had some semblance of normalcy. He’d already lost basketball; he couldn’t stand losing Star right now, too. This whole thing was a nightmare, and it was time to wake up.
Squeezing his eyes tight, he lifted his face to the sky and made a wish—a Christmas wish. Something he never did, but these were desperate times. He counted to three, slowly opened his eyes, and glanced down. His leg was still in a cast, his open toe protected by a red and green striped stocking.
This town was good for nothing.
…
With the entire Page clan currently living under one roof, it wasn’t hard to see why Holly’s parents had stopped coming here for Christmas years ago.
Grandma’s house was like a sardine tin. Holly had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.
Holly’s Vermont aunt and uncle (Vixi and Bob) spent most of their time lying on the couch watching Fox News, dressed in baggy blue jeans and matching plaid flannels, while their gaggle of young kids ran wild through Grandma’s living and dining rooms. Holly’s eyes were stuck in a permanent eye-roll every time she encountered them. Elda’s parents, Donder and Pilar Page, had snapped up Grandma’s bedroom off the back of the house and held court in the kitchen most of the time. Holly’s own parents, Rudolph (Dolph) and Linda, had commandeered the second floor with R.J., Holly’s little brother. Holly and Elda were sharing the attic, which was awesome, because Elda was awesome, except for the part where she kept chatting on the phone with people from home.
This afternoon she was FaceTiming with some guy she’d met in college. Holly adored her cousin, but this dude was well below her station, and Elda totally didn’t see it. Teddy was a short, stocky dude who rocked a limp, scraggly comb-over at age twenty-one, and he was playing Elda like a fiddle.
Today Teddy was full-on trying to break up with Elda. He kept mentioning how busy he was and how he was going into his final semester of college and needed to focus. He even managed to mention some girl named “Kara” at three different points during the conversation.
Holly didn’t have a ton of dating experience, but she was well-versed in the art of rejection, having been on the receiving end more than a few times. Elda needed to save face here. She couldn’t cede the upper hand to this classless jerk-store who treated Elda like garbage. Holly wrote a note on a blank page in her sketch pad and ripped it out.
Carefully avoiding Elda’s phone screen, Holly crawled over to the pullout couch the two of them were sharing while in North Pole. She slithered along the floor and reached up to hand Elda the paper. Elda glanced at it and then looked at Holly, mouthing, “What?”
“Tell him.” Holly mouthed before crawling back over to the far corner of the attic, where she’d been sorting through her grandparents’ old books and magazines in preparation for the family to sell the house.
As Holly pulled open the bottom drawer of a tall, black file cabinet, Elda said, “Teddy, I’m so glad you’re saying this. I’m really busy, too, and I could totally use some space. Maybe we should take a break. I don’t want to be tied down here in Minnesota. You see, I met someone at the coffee shop—”
Teddy’s voice jumped an octave. “Elda, no—” He had obviously planned on being the dumper, but now Elda and Holly had snatched that away from him.
Holly’s smile of pride faded away as she peered into the drawer she’d just opened. About a hundred old National Geographic magazines were in there. Why had her grandparents bothered saving these? She glanced around the attic, which was full of garbage, basically. Why had they bothered saving any of this?
Her heart ached for her grandma, whose entire life was now on display. Holly made a vow that she would always keep her own house tidy and cleaned out. She’d never want her family members to have to sort through so much junk. She certainly didn’t want to leave anything gross or embarrassing hiding in a drawer for her father to find—like he’d found a set of his mother’s dentures tucked inside a jewelry box in her nightstand. Her grandmother would have been mortified.
Grandma had died only a few weeks ago, just this past Thanksgiving, while lying on a chaise by Uncle Don’s pool in San Diego. She’d had a Moscow Mule in one hand and a pair of sunglasses in the other. Elda’s parents had buried Grandma in California, for convenience. The entire family had been there, but it had been a small service. Holly’s grandmother had deserved a bigger sendoff. Her life was worth more than an intimate ceremony in a strange place.
There had to be something more they could do to honor her memory.
Elda knelt down next to Holly and wrapped her up in a big hug. “Thank you!” she squealed. Holly hadn’t even realized she’d gotten off the phone.
“For what?”
“I told Teddy I needed space, and then he said he wants to get together when we’re both back in town. He’s going to call me tonight, too.” She squeezed Holly tighter, then let go.
“So, you’re still going to go out with him?”
“Of course.” Elda brushed her hair off her face. She reminded Holly of a girl from a deodorant commercial, all fresh, clean beauty with a baby powder scent. Teddy was the before picture in a gym ad. “He’s a total catch, Holly, super smart. He’s president of the Young Republicans group on campus. And, obviously, he’s hot.”
Beauty really must be in the eye of the beholder.
Elda put her hands on Holly’s shoulders. “You and I really are an unstoppable team.”
Holly’s mom yelled up the stairs. “Girls! We’re going to dinner in a half hour!”
“Not another family dinner.” They’d eaten every meal together since the whole family arrived in North Pole a few days ago. Holly hadn’t had two minutes alone to rest and recharge.
Elda shrugged. “Tell your mom you’re sick or something.”