Page 98 of Offside Bride

“Maggie, your bearded dragon is trying to get on the coffee table,” Patricia says, slightly horrified he might get into the snacks.

Maggie scoops him up and pets his little head. “Trevor likes to watch TV from the coffee table,” she says, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“You named your bearded dragon Trevor?” Robert questions. Patricia pats him on the knee.

Maggie makes kissy lips at Trevor. “You’re just looking for your tiny couch, aren’t you, Trevor?” she says like she’s talking to a toddler, then gently places him in his aquarium.

Yes, Trevor has his own reptile-sized sofa. It looks just like our regular-sized sofas, but much, much smaller. Maggie likes to keep it on the coffee table so Trevor can watch his favorite shows while lounging like he’s had a hard day at work and just wants to relax and drink beer. Today, I made sure to put Trevor’s couch away, then disinfected the coffee table three times before draping a cloth over it. I love our crazy little zoo, but we can’t have our animals making messes while company is over.

Finally, the top of the hour has come, and we all get comfortable as the Yuletide Channel’s holiday lineup teasers start. Then we’re assaulted by a barrage of commercials. I feel Maggie tense up beside me, her excitement palpable. I give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Relax, Magpie,” I whisper in her ear. “Your movie’s gonna knock their socks off.”

She turns to me with a grin. “You’re just saying that because you have to.”

“Nah, I’m saying it because it’s true. And because I love you.”

“Aww, you’re such a cinnamon roll,” she teases.

Suddenly, the room erupts in cheers and whistles when they see me on the TV screen, decked out in Velocity Gear, skating across a pristine ice rink.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Emily exclaims. “It’s Sawyer!”

“Surprise,” I say, beaming at her reaction. “I made sure Bruce worked a clause into my contract with Velocity Gear. Ad placement on the Yuletide Channel whenever they air your movie.”

“You sneaky devil!” she gasps. “But when did you film this?”

“Remember that ‘team bonding retreat’ last month?”

She narrows her eyes. “The one where you came back with a mysterious bruise on your?—”

“Shh!” I quickly interject, glancing at our guests. “Let’s just say the director had some…interesting ideas.”

The room erupts in laughter as on-screen me attempts to gracefully slide across an ice rink while extolling the virtues of Velocity Gear’s new ‘friction-free’ fabric.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t go well.

“Is that why you were walking funny for a week?” Owen snickers.

I shoot him a hard glare.

The commercial continues, showing me getting up with a sheepish grin then zooming in on the Velocity Gear logo. “For when you need to bounce back fast,” my on-screen self says with a wink.

“Well,” Patricia says, dabbing at her eyes, “that was certainly…memorable.”

“That’s one word for it,” Maggie says, guffawing with laughter. “Sawyer, this is the best thing ever.”

“Merry Christmas,” I whisper, giving her a soft kiss.”

As the commercial ends, the announcer’s voice booms through our living room: “Yuletide Channel presents,The Snowflake Serenade.”

Jaunty Christmas music fills the air as the title text ‘The Snowflake Serenade’ appears over a sweeping shot of a picturesque, small town. It’s like someone took every Christmas cliché and cranked it up to eleven.

The camera pans over a quaint main street lined with twinkling lights and evergreen garlands. Charming storefronts with hand-painted signs advertise hot cocoa and homemade pies, their windows frosted and adorned with festive displays. A massive Christmas tree dominates the town square, surrounded by ice skaters twirling on a makeshift rink. Horse-drawn carriages clip-clop down streets lined with lamp posts wrapped in red bows. It’s so idyllic, I half expect little elves to appear.

I snort. “Did they raid Santa’s workshop for this set?”

Maggie elbows me playfully. “Hush, you.”

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