Page 3 of The Summer of Christmas

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

They waited in line. Both quiet. Ivy decided it was time: “I found this Spanish-style townhouse apartment on Orange Grove,” she said as she scrolled through the pictures on her phone and showed Nick a picture. He didn’t respond. They were now being brought in to see Santa.

“What does a USC Film student want for Christmas?” Santa bellowed and laughed. Ivy was curious. Who was this?

Nick was stunned. “You know Santa?”

Ivy went to sit on Santa’s lap. She instantly recognized him as Rob, a struggling actor who she knew from a student film. Ivy waved Nick over. They sat on Santa’s lap, and she introduced Nick to Santa Claus.

“What does Ivy Green want for Christmas?” Santa asked.

“I want Nick to move to LA so we can be together.” Ivy smiled, looking at Nick. Santa turned to Nick, asking him the same question. As the woman playing Santa’s elf aligned the camera, Nick said the words Ivy never thought she would ever hear from him—and especially not while they were sitting on Santa’s lap.

“I want to break up,” Nick blurted out.

The photo was taken at exactly that moment. Sadness, shock, and bewilderment showed on the faces of Ivy, Nick, and Santa.

Ivy hustled away. Nick followed her. The Grove was emptying. Dinner patrons were leaving. Movies had let out. Tired children were being carried home by their parents, who were also carrying packages.

Nick found Ivy sitting by the fountain. He sat down next to her. Neither of them said anything as “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” the Muzak version, played.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not for saying it but for having to say it.

Ivy was more confused than angry. She just didn’t understand.

“I met someone else.”

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I bet it was Courtney Clark,” Ivy said. Courtney Clark was a girl who had a crush on Nick in sixth grade and had spread bad rumors about Ivy.

“Courtney Clark? That was sixth grade!” Nick protested.

“You kissed her!” Ivy countered.

“Why are you talking about what happened in sixth grade?”

“Why are you breaking up with me on the happiest day of my life?” she snapped. At least, she’d thought it was going to be the happiest day of her life as she’d won an award and she was now going to be represented by one of the best agents in town. But Nick, the literal love of her life, the only man she had ever been with, the one person who understood her more than anyone else, the man who knew Christmas was extra special for her—Nick Shepherd had broken her heart.

Ivy demanded to know more as she went from confusion to anger as Nick told her about a graduate student from Cornell who was interning at the winery. They had spent a lot of time in the vineyard, and they just clicked.

“So that’s why you’ve been on your phone all day.” And he had been. Nick explained that he’d wanted to be a man and tell Ivy in person.

“If you were a man, you wouldn’t have cheated on me.”

Nick’s phone rang. It buzzed between them. “I have to take this,” he said.

“Go away. Get out of here,” Ivy said. She was determined that Nick was never going to see her cry. Because when she did, the fountains at the Grove would be the second-most spectacular water feature for tourists.

“I only want the best for you, Ivy.”

“The best for me is for you to leave. Take the rental car and go back to your Cornell cutie.” Ivy turned around to watch the dancing water fountain. She could hear Nick answer the phone and say, “I can’t talk right now.” Ivy watched as Nick walked away. Out of her life forever.

She was not sure how long she stayed there, staring at the fountains. The lighting went from green to red. The song “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” started to play, and the fake snow fell as it did every hour on the hour.

One hour. That was all it took for Ivy to go from the best day of her life to the worst day of her life. She had given her heart to Nick in second grade. And now he’d returned it. The fountains of tears began to flow. Spectacularly. She was a really great crier. The few remaining natives and tourists looked over at her. Ivy hugged Nick’s jacket as she sobbed to the song.

Everyone around her was happy. Everyone except her. She couldn’t believe that everything she’d planned to do with Nick would never happen. Her phone rang again. She answered it, unable to hide the sniffles and sadness.

“Hi, Mom… I have some great news. I won the contest for best screenplay. An agent loved my script, and she wants to represent me.”

Ivy looked out at the empty street. “Why am I crying…because I’m so happy,” she lied to her mom. Ivy wasn’t going to spoil her mother’s Christmas the way Nick had ruined hers. And at that moment she decided that she would give herself forty-eight hours to get over Nick. That was two bottles of chardonnay, four sappy movies, and a box of See’s Candies. Then she would sweat it out at Body By Simone and get back to work. She told her mother she loved her. Called an Uber to get home and stuffed Nick’s leather jacket into a trash can. Ivy walked the wrong way, turned, didn’t look where she was going, and walked right into the moving trolley.

On the ground, suffering more from embarrassment, Ivy thought how this Christmas was already the best/worst Christmas ever.

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