Page 2 of The Holiday Honeymoon Switch
“I think you mean doppel-gängers,” Holly murmurs.
“You both look just like Summer onThe O.C.,” Matt chimes in. “You two are like…twins! Twins who arealsotriplets with Rachel Bilson!”
“It’s a freaking Christmas miracle,” D’Arcy says, and the two bump chests before Matt stares into his empty cup and says, “Think we’ve earned a refill,” then pulls D’Arcy with him toward the back of the keg line. “We’ll leave you two to get acquainted!” Matt calls out over his shoulder.
Holly and Ivy stand staring at each other like two shy girls on a playdate their moms set up for them. Ivy isn’t usually socially awkward, but feels suddenly nervous. She studies Holly and has to admit there is a similarity between them. Same thick eyebrows, wide mouths, and pointed chins. Same carob-brown shade of hair.
“Ireallyhate keg parties,” she says—at the exact moment Holly says the same thing. They both laugh. The ice is broken.
“You wouldn’t, by any chance, care for an ice-cold glass of sauv blanc, would you?” Ivy asks, shaking the vacuum-sealed metal water bottle she’s carrying.
Holly’s eyes widen. “Are you kidding me? That is precisely,exactlywhat I would care for.”
They head for the empty couch, grabbing Solo cups alongthe way. When they’re settled, Ivy fills Holly’s cup, then her own. Holly takes a sip and closes her eyes.
“This isso good. Thank you.”
“My dad’s friend owns a winery in the Loire Valley, and my dad trades him a case of maple syrup for a case of this every year. My parents’ preferred libations are cannabis cocktails and hard kombucha, so he gives it to me. I usually save it for special occasions, but the new year is almost here.” Ivy can’t help it; she grins at the thought. “And I still had one bottle left, so…” She taps her cup against Holly’s. “Santé.”
“Trading for maple syrup, I don’t think I’ve ever heard that technique for getting good wine. Most people I know just buy it.”
“My parents live completely cash-free, and after the Great Maple Syrup Heist of 2011, my dad realized maple syrup is like liquid gold. So he and my mom traded their yoga-and-meditation chalet in the Laurentian Mountains of Quebec, where I mostly grew up, for a large maple tree acreage nearby, and now that’s what they do.”
“Great Maple Syrup Heist?”
“Maybe you have to be Canadian to have heard of that one.” Ivy shrugs. “Although I’m a dual citizen, actually. I was born unexpectedly in a yurt at a New Mexico silence retreat. But here I am, talking too much about myself and not asking about you. Tell me about yourself, Holly. I want to know everything.”
“Oh, I’m not nearly as interesting. Born in New York City, live in New York City, probably will forever.”
“Not a bad thing, New York City is thebest. Which part?”
“Brooklyn Heights. But seriously, enough about me. I can see why D’Arcy’s so crazy about you. You’re fascinating! Tell me more about growing up at a yoga retreat, then a tree farm.”
Ivy bites her lip and decides to be honest. “Listen, I don’t think I’m really…very well matched with D’Arcy. I know he’s your boyfriend’s best friend, but I already like you and I can’t lie to you about this. I’m pretty sure I’m leaving this party tonight without him and may not see him again.” She tilts her head. “I’m sorry, that sounds cold. I’m not really a romantic. I try—but I haven’t met the right guy yet, maybe. Is it too mean to break up with someone at this time of year?”
Holly looks stunned for a moment, and Ivy wonders if her honesty has been too much. But then she says, “Wow, that was refreshingly truthful,” and Ivy is so relieved she hasn’t scared Holly off that she grasps her new friend’s arm.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Holly says. “D’Arcy is…well, he’s a good friend to Matt. They’re like brothers. But I personally could not imagine dating him. Plus, he has the attention span of a fruit fly. As much as he likes you, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
Ivy decides not to go overboard on the honesty and blurt out that she thinks Holly is dating an alternate version ofD’Arcy and that she couldn’t imagine dating Matt, either—and instead says, “Matt seems great. How long have you two been together?” She refills their cups as Holly briefly details their two-year relationship, which sounds to Ivy like it ticks a lot of boxes.
“Do you love him?”
Holly seems surprised at the question, but then smiles and looks down at her lap. “I do. We were meant to be. We have our life all planned out. I feel lucky I found him because I’m not exactly a social butterfly, but he gets me out of my comfort zone.” The song has switched to “My Only Wish (This Year)” by Britney Spears, and half the people at the party start singing along again. Ivy and Holly both roll their eyes at the same time.
“Even Britney doing Christmas isn’t enough to get me in the spirit tonight,” Ivy says.
“Me neither! I could seriously skip right over Christmas and straight to New Year’s Eve.” Holly’s eyes are wide. “I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that.”
“You’ve come to the right place. My parents don’t celebrate Christmas because they say it’s an empty, materialistic holiday designed for the sole purpose of fueling the economy and bolstering capitalism—”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah. Sharon and Ron are a lot, but I love and accept them for who they are. Anyway, when I was a kid, I just sortof glommed on to New Year’s. Shouldn’t that be the big event of the holidays? The moment when everything resets and we all get to start fresh? How exciting is that?”
“Soexciting. It’s like you’re reading my mind. My parents make it seem like if we don’t have a perfect Christmas every single year, our lives are ruined, but the result has always been the same. Something inevitably goes wrong. It’s always a letdown. But I amneverdisappointed by New Year’s Eve because no matter what, you get to wake up the next day with something brand-new and all your own. A whole new year. And, if you’ve thought ahead, a new day planner, too.”
Ivy is grinning. “I’m so glad I didn’t sneak out of this party early.”
