Page 90 of Must Love Christmas

On impulse, Garen asked, “Nikolaj, what are you doing for Christmas? Would you like to spend it here with us?”

Karen’s face froze, her eyes wide.

Uh-oh. Overstepped.

Nikolaj looked at her, then at Garen, and finally gave a nervous smile. “I think I must talk to Karen about it.”

“Yes,” she said in a tight voice. “We’ll discuss.”

“Okay.” Garen pretended to look at his nonexistent watch. “Welp, time to start putting together our gingerbread house. Wish us luck.”

They signed off, and Garen closed his laptop, feeling guilty.

His phone buzzed with a text.

Karen: Why did you put me on the spot like that???

Garen: Sorry! I thought you two were serious

Karen: We are serious, but are we Christmas serious? It’s complicated

Garen: I liked him a lot and got carried away

Over a minute later, she replied:Title of your memoir

* * *

Garen shiftedhis feet impatiently under the dining table as he held the edges of two gingerbread walls against each other. “This looks so much faster in Hallmark movie montages.”

“That’s the magic of Hollywood editing.” Simon leaned over to examine the angle of Garen’s wall, then made an adjustment so wee as to be indiscernible. “Hold that still for another minute until the mortar dries.”

Garen started mentally counting backward from sixty, but got distracted by his own thoughts after reaching fifty-four.

While he was thoroughly enjoying every moment in Simon’s bed this week, Garen had started to wonder about expectations. Were they to sleep together every night, like a long-term couple? Would Simon be hurt if Garen suggested they sleep in their own beds once in a while? He’d never lived with a partner before and had no idea how to broach the topic. Hopefully Simon felt the same way and would soon raise the subject himself.

Simon picked up the pastry bag and another wall of the gingerbread house. He pulled in an audible breath, which he held as he went to spread royal-icing mortar along the edge of the wall.

Alas, his hands shook too hard for the two surfaces to meet. Simon cursed under his breath. “Why won’t my body cooperate?”

“I could do it if you like,” Garen said, on the off chance Simon would let him help.

“No, I just need something to hold it still. Bring me those two snow globes on that middle shelf by the TV?”

Garen fetched the snow globes, the ones featuring the Sugar Plum Fairy and the Mouse King fromThe Nutcracker Suite. He set them in front of Simon, who used them as a makeshift vise to hold the gingerbread wall.

“Now I can get a better grip.” Simon set his elbows on the table and picked up the pastry bag, which was much steadier held in two hands.

“You’re a pure genius.” Garen kissed him on his forehead.

Simon started drawing a line of white mortar down the edge of the wall. “Talking of geniuses, how come you never finished your dissertation?”

“Lost interest—not in the topic itself, but in the whole needing-a-piece-of-paper-to-validate-me thing.” He sat back in his seat and took a sip of his hot cocoa—now lukewarm after he’d forgotten about it. “To do public education, all I need is the Master’s I’ve already got.”

“So what was the topic?”

Garen tried to remember the exact title but failed. “Basically, the effects of climate change on the diet of—” He stopped and smiled. “You have to guess which species. Ooh, I know: You get one guess per day between now and Christmas Eve, and if you guess right—”

“Reindeer.”

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