Page 6 of Hello Dr. Christmas

“I just want to drink,” I say with a groan. “While I’ve been training for the production, I have barely eaten any carbs, and I haven’t touched alcohol in months. So, I really just need to drink.”

“We will drink,” she promises me, squeezing my shoulder. “And we’ll watch trashy TV, and go shopping, and go for tacos downtown, and hit up the bakeries, and fill our tummies with tons of junk food.”

“Sounds divine,” I say, sighing gratefully and patting her knee.

“Oh, I just remembered something!” my father announces.

“What’s that, Dad?” Mary asks gently.

“I sent Evie a Christmas present,” my father says. “Did you ever receive it, honey?”

“In Alaska?” she asks, shaking her head. “No, I didn’t receive anything. Maybe I left before it arrived. What was it?”

“Aw, shucks,” my father says. “There was this company offering home visits to people who live alone in remote locations, to cheer them up for the holidays. They come over and decorate a little, and some nice young person cooks you dinner and sits to chat with you for a few hours.”

“Wait,” Eve responds slowly. “What are you saying?”

“The charity is mostly aimed toward sick kids and little old ladies,” our father explains. “But I figured that my little Evie is pretty close to being a sad, lonely old lady in need of cheering up.”

We all laugh softly at this description.

Eve groans. “Gee, thanks, Dad. So you’re the one responsible for Adam showing up at my door? Mom, did you know anything about this?”

“I had no clue, honey,” she says innocently. “Your dad gets ideas these days, and he just follows his whims without ever telling me.”

“Dad,” I say accusingly. “Did you know thatAdamwas the one coming to see me? Did you know how… charming he was?”

“I thought he was a good looking fella, from the brochure,” my dad says, with a wicked twinkle in his eye.

“That was a really thoughtful gift, Daddy,” Eve says weakly.

“I’m kind of jealous,” I tell the family. “You guys set Eve up with an amazing guy, but what about me?”

“You just complained when we considered setting you up with Klaus,” Mary points out.

“That’s because I’m a broken messnow, and no one would want me, but what about the past few years when I’ve been healthy and single and all alone in New York?” I ask them.

“Well, you were in New York, dear,” my mother responds. “Evie was in the middle of nowhere. Surely there are more suitable young men for you to choose from in New York than there are here in Snowflake Creek?”

“You would think so,” I say miserably. “But it’s actually harder to meet people. Everyone seems to have bad intentions. Or maybe I only attract the worst sort of guy.”

“That is nonsense, dear,” my mother says. “Here, let me get you a hot cocoa to cheer you up.” When she moves to the kitchen, Mary goes with her. Sven and my father are standing aside and chatting.

“Are you feeling up to going to The Drunken Elf, later?” Eve whispers to me.

“Hell, yes,” I respond.

“Great,” she says. “I am going to hunt for a really hot guy for you, and we are going to take your mind off your ankle by getting you laid.”

“Good luck,” I tell her, with a chuckle. “No one wants to sleep with a girl on crutches.”

“Clara, do you realize how beautiful you are? Even if your ankle was swollen to the size of a barrel, you would still be the hottest girl in town.”

“That’s sweet, Evie—but you have to say that. You’re my sister.”

“And you’re a prima ballerina, lady.”

“I was.”

“That’s not how it works, Clara. Once a prima ballerina, always a prima ballerina. It’s part of your identity and legacy now. Even if you died tomorrow, you would always be a prima ballerina to all of us—and to everyone who has ever seen you dance. It can never be taken away from you.”

Sighing, I squeeze her knee. “That means a lot, Evie.”

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