Page 35 of All I Want for Christmas Eve

“It’s okay, honey,” she says, patting my leg. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

I nod as I fall asleep. But I hear her moving to the door, and talking to someone.

“We shouldn’t tell her about Clara now. Let’s wait until she’s sober and well-rested.”

“What’s wrong with Clara?” I ask sleepily, but no one answers me as I drift off to sleep.

When I wake up, I have a temple-throbbing headache. I wasn’t able to pull my orthopedic pillow out of my suitcase before I crashed. I see that my mom’s hangover remedy is placed on the night table beside me, and I grab it and take a long sip. Then I sigh with relief. Nothing beats my mom’s drinks. Whether holiday themed, alcoholic, or meant to cure a cough, cold, or hangover. She’s definitely got that magic touch that only a mother could achieve.

I feel a little bit clearheaded, and less insane. I groan thinking of what a train wreck I was when I got home. I’m going to have to apologize to everyone. Reaching for my phone, I scan my messages, and I see some missed calls from Clara. I remember that someone said there was something going on with her.

Pressing dial, I call my sister.

“Hey, Evie,” she says, and she sounds miserable.

“What happened?” I ask. “Someone said—someone said something was wrong?”

“Yeah. I just smashed my ankle and needed to quit the production,” Clara says, sounding lifeless. “I really wanted to finish every performance of The Nutcracker with the company… but it looks like my understudy got my wish. She and the other girls have only been trying to get me injured badly enough for this to happen for two years.”

“That’s terrible, Clara. What are you going to do?”

“I’m already on my way home. I’ll see you soon. But what’s going on with you? When I spoke to mom and Mary, they said you were a drunken mess. Why are you acting like a sorority girl, Evie?”

“Ughhhhh,” I say, collapsing back on my mattress. Clara and I are a little closer in age, and I feel less embarrassed telling her about my screw ups. “Adam and I slept together, and then he totally ditched me.”

“Mom says Adam fell from the sky?”

“Yeah, there was a plane crash. And that’s why he ditched me—he couldn’t get on the plane. So I guess I’m never going to see him again, and I’m an idiot, and that’s that.”

“What does Adam do?” Clara asks. “What’s his last name? Is it Wintergreen?”

“Yes. How did you know that?”

“Because there was a newspaper article about his charity and the plane that disappeared—he was missing for a good sixteen hours before he was able to get his phone out of the plane and text his family that he was safe. It was enough time for the whole country to freak out.”

“The whole country?”

“Don’t you know who the Wintergreens are, Evie? He’s heir to a massive fortune. They are oil money, and he’s a philanthropist who flies all over the world, doing good deeds for people. He’s like… the greatest catch you could have possibly caught. He’s on all those most-eligible bachelor lists.”

“So he’s likereallyrich,” I whisper. “That’s why he didn’t want me to know who he was. And he’s not married or anything? Is he a major playboy?”

“No! He’s a prince. He’s basically a nun. I really don’t think Adam Wintergreen would screw you over, Evie. He’s the real deal. He’s not the kind to run around breaking women’s hearts.”

“But he did break mine,” I say softly. “And I’m probably never going to see him again. And he doesn’t even have my phone number.”

“Well, we’ve both got problems. I’m never going to dance again, in the career that I dedicated my whole life to training for. And you lost Mr. Right, possibly the most perfect man on the planet for you, who would have made the most epic name to have beside yours on a wedding invitation…”

“That’s exactly what he said,” I grumble.

“So I’m going to come home,” Clara says, “and we’re going to be a drunken messtogether?Got it? No more drinking without me, loser!”

I smile. “Sounds good to me.”

“And we can trash talk Mary and her perfect new boyfriend with his perfect muscles—I saw on Instagram. How does our girl manage to upgrade from a super hot professional hockey player to evenhotterdude? Mom told me he’s super nice, too! Screw Mary.”

“Screw Mary,” I say with agreement.

Just then, the sister in question pops her head into my room. “Did you call my name? Glad to see you’re awake. Did you need anything?”

“No, thanks, Mar. Love you!” I say cheerfully, out of guilt. Clara bursts out laughing on the other side of the line. I smile sheepishly, glad that I could make her smile when she’s in pain and feeling down.

“Okay,” Clara says. “So you, me, drinks, soon. And we will stay drunk all Christmas to get through this painful holiday season.”

“You’ve got yourself a misery buddy,” I tell her, and I take a deep breath. Maybe the season won’t be so terrible after all. All I know is that I’m glad to be home.

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