Page 1 of Accidentally Under Your Tree

one

Lizzy

Seven nights before Christmas

Me: The man sitting next to me has the most beautiful hands.

Shay: LOL You and your hand obsession.

Me: No, these are exceptional. They're like Hozier meets Henry Cavill.

Shay: Only you could name-drop hands you find sexy.

Me: Lots of people have a thing for hands.

Shay: Why is a hand fetish more socially acceptable than a foot fetish?

Me: IDK. I don't make the rules, but even you would be attracted to these hands.

Shay: Oh no, I'm a wrist girl. Like a slut.

I surprised myself with a squeaky-toy-like laugh, startling the middle-aged woman to my right, and the hot man attached to the artistic hands to my left. Wide palms with long, calloused fingers—hands that looked like they could build something more complicated than Ikea furniture. It'd shock me if they hadn't held sandpaper this week.

I had a type. And it was hands.

"Sorry," I whispered to the two strangers.

The woman had already gone back to sipping her glass of wine and playing a word game on her phone.

But the man gave me a shy, lopsided grin. My stomach flipped with the same sudden panic I'd felt a few hours ago, when my boot slipped on the ice outside of the hotel door. I recovered from the near fall more gracefully than I did from his mossy green eyes.

Slurping more air than drink, I sucked my vodka cranberry through the straw. The gurgling was probably quieter than it seemed in my head.

Behind us, people laughed at tables covered with plates and glasses. In the dim golden lighting, a pianist played jazzy Christmas carols. I pretended to watch the young woman to gain distance between me and the handsome man and his cozy cable-knit sweater draping over his shoulders—wide…broad shoulders.

When I was sure his attention had returned to his phone, I snatched up mine again.

Me: Don't make me laugh!

Shay: I can't just turn off this God-given-wit.

Me: He just looked at me! And you know I hate when people notice me!

Shay: *eye roll emoji* Is the rest of him hot?

Me: *fire emoji*

Shay: Is there a wedding ring on those beautiful fingers?

Me: No.

Shay: Then I'm gonna need you to get over your people weirdness.

Me: You can't make me.

Shay: You're the one who could have a future date with those hands…

The churning of my stomach clearly stated that I was not "over my people weirdness." And it wasn'tpeopleI struggled with. I did great when I knew someone. Not exactly a social butterfly like my sister, but Shay was just as introverted as me. She just had an easier time meeting people.

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