Page 3 of You Can't Ruin Christmas

Chapter Two

Sven has proved to be an excellent movie-watching buddy, and we have opened another bottle of wine. Both too lazy to get glasses, we have been passing the bottle back and forth between us, like comfortable old friends, drinking at a steady pace and chatting occasionally. This has been just what I needed tonight. And he has convinced me that beginning a hardcore workout routine is just what I need for tomorrow.

My younger sister Clara is visiting soon, and she’s a dancer. Not a naughty-nighttime dancer who gets cash stuffed into her thong, but a legitimate prima ballerina, who will be starring inThe Nutcrackerin performances all over the world, this year. I already have tickets to her show in L.A.. It’s been her lifelong dream, and she has always been so insanely fit andwayslimmer than me. Her body can do things that are so elegant, graceful, and precise, that I feel a little like an elephant beside her. Or a hippopotamus.

Maybe Sven can help me feel less like an awkward hippo.

Or at the very least, maybe I could be a hippo with a banging booty.

“With respect to your personal training offer,” I say to him, “I’m not sure I can afford your fees. Your usual clientele is a little more successful than I am.”

“Maybe we can work out some kind of quid pro quo,” he suggests, reaching for my bottle of wine and taking a drink from it as he looks at me. “Maybe there’s something you can do for me in exchange.”

I feel my whole body tense up at this suggestion. Does he mean something like…? A film-reel of scandalous images dance through my head, and I am barely able to squawk out a“What?”

“I mean my website,” he explains, as a teasing smile transforms his features. “Maybe you can help me redo my landing page so it seems more professional to new clients. Sebastian showed me some of the sites you’ve made in the past, and they were very sleek and clean looking.”

Heis sleek and clean looking. Yeesh. Did Sven put those dirty images in my head intentionally? I swear there was a suggestive lilt in his voice. I shouldn’t be having such thoughts about my boyfriend’s brother. I mean, ex-boyfriend’s brother.Isit wrong to think about him that way? I mean, he’s also just my roommate, and a handsome dude being really sweet, offering to help me feel better after a shitty situation.

I reach out to take the bottle away from him, letting my fingers ‘accidentally’ brush against his, just to quench my need for a little physical contact. It doesn’t work. I want to touch him even more now, which is greatly annoying. There is a burning question in my mind, that I have been pondering for the past half hour: if I pinch his stomach, is it like pinching a brick wall? Is there an ounce of fat somewhere to be found on his body? If so,whereon his body? And by any chance, is he ticklish? Asking for a friend.

I think I’m just in a vulnerable state of mind right now, and Sven is like the ice cream and carbs. Something I wouldn’t normally indulge in, but today, I really wanted to devour for comfort. And pleasure. I don’t know if I ever thought about him like this before, but I feel guilty for doing so. Still, I don’t think any hot-blooded woman could sit this close to a ripped Viking and not have a few carnal thoughts.

My eyes drift over his face and his mouth as I sip the wine. I wonder if I can taste his lips on the rim of the bottle. It seems strangely intimate to be sharing it like this, without glasses. Kind of like indirect kisses. I bite my lip a little, and chastise myself mentally for thinking about kissing him. I really need to get a rein on my hormones.

I think I just had a little too much wine and ice cream.

Is peppermint bark an aphrodisiac?

“I’ll do it for you,” I tell him as I savor the wine on my tongue, trying to think of a way to pay him back for the dirty thoughts. “I am sure I can manage to make you really satisfied. With the website.”

“Then we have a deal.” It is his turn to clear his throat, as he turns back toward the television. “I have always liked this movie.”

“I was named after the main character’s wife,” I tell him, as I focus on what’s happening to George and Mary in Bedford Falls. “My parents used to putIt’s a Wonderful Lifeon every Christmas, and it just became family tradition. We would all gather together in our pajamas to watch while sipping apple cider and nibbling fresh gingerbread cookies. Those were some of my happiest memories. I thought…” Trailing off, I get hit by the same pang of the sadness that drove me to sugar. All of my previous naughty thoughts disappear as the pain returns.

“What did you think?” Sven prods.

I give him a small smile. “I thought that maybe I’d found something like this with Sebastian. I invited him home to meet my family this Christmas, you know. In Snowflake Creek. I found an engagement ring in his sock drawer, and I told my parents and my sisters about it. I thought he was just waiting for the right moment. Can you believe I thought that was for me? I was so insane that I thought he was actually going topropose.”

“He was,” Sven says quietly. “I helped him pick out that ring. He was excited about it. I don’t know what the hell happened to him.”

“The NHL happened to him,” I respond dryly.

Sven reaches for my hand and squeezes it gently. “I’m so sorry, Mary. You deserved better. My brother… something’s wrong with his brain. I was really looking forward to having you as my sister-in-law.”

His hand doesn’t linger too long, and when it withdraws, I miss the warmth. “I think I would make a pretty cool sister-in-law,” I muse.

“I probably would have made a cool brother-in-law,” Sven adds. “Never been one before, but it seems like a fun job title. Anyway, you should throw out all the damn socks in that damn drawer, and the damn ring. Or maybe sell it.”

I take a long drink, emptying the bottle before placing it down on the coffee table. “Maybe I’ll just keep it and wear it to remind myself of how stupid I am.”

“You’re not stupid, Mary.”

“Yeah, I kinda am. This was a huge screw up. I’m the oldest, and none of my siblings are married,” I tell Sven. “My sisters have been too focused on their careers, and my brother is doing Doctors Without Borders in Africa. I was the only one who had a real relationship. My parents are getting older—they had us all later in life. I thought it would make them so happy to see me get married and have kids. I mean—it would also have mademehappy.”

I stare whimsically at the scenes of the movie. “That’s just my dream, you know, to have a big family and see everyone together for the holidays. Super blissful and happy in magical Snowflake Creek. My parents reading stories to their grandkids, the way they used to read to us. My sisters playing with the little ones in front of the fireplace. Snowball fights and ice hockey on the frozen lake with my brother. I used to imagine Sebastian would teach them to play hockey, and our future kids would look up to him as their hero. Maybe be there to celebrate someday when he’s on a team that wins the Stanley Cup. I thought he would make a spectacular dad—until the way he acted lately.”

“This isn’t him,” Sven says. “I don’t think you were wrong about him. He was a good person. But it’s like my brother has died, and someone else has taken over his body.”

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