Page 24 of All I Want for Christmas Eve

I smile at the memory of home, and the horse-drawn sleigh rides through our property. There was nothing quite like the acres of decorated Christmas trees that our parents have been working on for years. The light displays have gotten better every year, and it is their pride and joy. I can’t wait to take Adam home and show him the beauty of Snowflake Creek.

Adam. Jeez. Am I really taking him home?

A total stranger.

Did I really just nearly have unprotected sex with him?

We haven’t even… talked about things. Talked about real things.

He really could be married. He could have kids waiting for him at home.

I don’t even know what his job is. I put my head in my hands, growling in frustration at myself. I could really use some advice from my big sister, but Mary just seems intent on poking fun at me.

Sighing deeply, I lean back in my computer chair. “I’m serious, Mary. This guy could be dangerous. I think I could get… murdered.” I nearly said pregnant. I am no longerthatconcerned about murder. I think.

“Is he cute?” Mary asks me, because that’s the most important question to ask when someone crashes their plane into your backyard in Alaska.

“Very,” I respond instantly, thinking of his naked body in my bed. He’s probably waiting for me in my bed right now. With his beautiful penis. I clear my throat, trying to clear those images from my mind. “Anyway. How are things going with Sebastian? Did he propose yet? Mom says that even when Dad’s memory is failing, he always remembers that you’ve got a great boyfriend. He constantly asks, ‘When is Mary getting married?’ It’s one of the happiest things he looks forward to in life.”

I can’t deny that I’ve been slightly jealous that my sister has her shit together romantically. The rest of us don’t, so we need to live vicariously through her. Although I do have a romantic prospect… or at the very least, a sexual prospect, but… I mean, hopefully he’s more—actually do I hope for more? Am I crazy?

“Things are good,” Mary responds. “Except I was trying to get laid yesterday, and he just made me an eggnog protein shake, instead. It was delicious, but I didn’t want eggnog at that particular moment—I wanted him to nog my eggs, if you know what I mean.”

I make a face, trying to refrain from laughing at her ridiculous phrasing. “Mary… honey, no one ever knows what you mean.”

“So, what’s the name of plane-crash guy?”

I groan, rubbing my forehead. “His name is Adam, and he keeps making these gross Adam and Eve jokes that areso lame, but also so weirdly sexy. You know I hate Adam and Eve jokes—so why do I find his sexy? Maybe I’m losing my mind. I just haven’t been around much testosterone in years, since I moved out here. Like, if I tried to use Tinder, there are so few humans around that I would end up swiping left and right on polar bears. Or maybe black bears. Kodiaks? Grizzlies… I don’t know what kind of bears are around, actually.”

“Well, Eve, if you’re so picky about thetypeof bear you date, you’re never going to find a good bear,” Mary counsels.

“Ugh,” I respond. Is this the wise sisterly advice I was looking for? “I am just like around 69% sure I’m going to get murdered.” I tell her. “But also around 29% sure that I’m going to get laid, and like 2% sure I’m going to get pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” she responds.

“Hello, I am surrounded by hundreds of miles of snow and there isn’t a store around for like three hours. I don’t have any condoms in the house, because I never have any men in the house.”

“Do you think maybe there were some condoms in Santa’s Sleigh?” Mary asks me seriously.

Oh my god. What kind of a question is that? Actually, a very good question. And something I have been wondering, myself. “Even if they were, they would have burned up in the crash. Or frozen since the crash. Do condoms freeze? I guess they could have been both burned and then frozen, and I don’t think those sound like very effective condoms to use, right? So—yeah, if he keeps looking at me like that, I might get pregnant.”

“Yikes. Someone’s going to find out what it means to get her eggs nogged!”

“That’s not funny, Mary.”

“Can I be a good sister and Amazon-Prime you some condoms? Does Amazon even work in Alaska?”

“Of course, it does. This isn’tAntarctica. But sometimes the bears steal packages from your front porch—especially if they think the boxes might contain food. I’ve lost some groceries that way.”

“See, Eve? You shouldn’t have rejected all those good bears on Tinder. I bet some of them even Super-Liked you. Now the bears will keep cockblocking you, and you’ll never be able to get condoms for Christmas.”

“Oh my god,” I say, groaning eve more loudly and rubbing both of my temples. “Well, unfortunately, due to my location, most packages also take over seven days to arrive. That’s the fastest shipping I can expect. It gets worse during snowstorms, of course. Way worse than Minnesota.”

“Damn, girl. When you say you’re escaping society, you actually really escape society.”

I smile weakly. “I try my best. So, how’s the latest audiobook coming along?” Whenever I need to record one of my books in audio, I turn to my sister. I would rather hire her than a stranger—but nepotism aside, she is actually a really great voice actress. And a great actress in general. It sucks that she doesn’t get more work, and hasn’t really made it in L.A..

“I am in the recording studio right now,” Mary says, “finishing it up. Should I try to get it done before heading home? I think the soonest flight I can get is this evening. But it could take me three or four days to finish this, especially with edits…”

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