Page 7 of Hello Dr. Christmas

ChapterFour

“What about that guy?” Eve suggests, pointing out someone in his late twenties.

“I don’t know,” I say, sipping my Santa Clausmopolitan. The Drunken Elf has a festive drink menu, where they make a delicious assortment of holiday-themed concoctions. “His beard is a little too fancy. He looks like he spends alotof time at the barber. He might be too obsessed with himself.”

“Good point,” Eve responds. “What about that one?”

“That guy with the glasses? He lookssuperserious and boring. He looks like an accountant or something,” I remark.

“What’s wrong with an accountant?” Eve asks.

“Nothing. I just don’t likethataccountant,” I explain, sipping my drink. “He looks a bit like aserial killeraccountant, if you know what I mean.”

“Fine,” Eve says. “How about that guy over there?”

“Isn’t that… the janitor from the bowling alley?” I ask, wrinkling my nose.

“Yes, and he’s also the janitor for the grocery store, and the janitor for the gas station. I think he paints birds as a hobby, and makes little statues of birds out of scrap metal.”

“How the heck do you know that?” I ask with a laugh. “Also, he’s likesixty.”

“His lawn is covered with statues of birds,” Eve explains. “He’s really interesting. I always thought he seemed mysterious.”

I raise my eyebrow as my sister gazes thoughtfully at the janitor. “Okay, Evie, you have had way too many Peppermintinis,” I say, sliding her cocktail away from her.

“That rhymes,” she says with a giggle. “But I’m not drunk. It’s because I’m a writer. I find all sorts of people interesting.”

“Then why don’t you date the janitor?” I ask her. “Or anyone else in here.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” she says, waving her hand. She pulls her Peppermintini back, and takes a long sip. “I’m still hung up on Adam. I really miss him. He was like… perfect.”

“I’m sorry, Evie.”

“Don’t worry about me,” she says with dismissal. “We’re here to get you hooked up with someone.”

“But I don’t really like anyone here,” I tell her.

“You know what Mary said to me,” she says thoughtfully. “She said that I was too picky. She said that if I cared too much about whether I dated a polar bear, or grizzly bear, or Kodiak bear, then I would never find a good bear.”

“A good bear?” I ask with confusion.

“It’s a joke about Alaska—because in the area where I lived, there were probably more bears than people. Never mind,” Eve says. “The point is, you need to be willing to try if you’re going to meet someone.”

“I am trying!” I tell her. “I’ve been trying this whole time. I tried in New York. I dated lots of guys, and they were all serious creeps. So, I just gave up.”

“Well, we’re not in New York anymore,” Eve says, patting me on the shoulder. “We’re at home. And the guys here are nice, remember?”

“What guys are nice?” I ask her, looking around. “If the guys here were so nice, wouldn’t we have just stayed in Snowflake Creek, and married our high school sweethearts?”

“We never had high school sweethearts,” Eve responds dryly.

“Exactly. Because the dudes weren’t that nice,” I say triumphantly.

“Hmmm,” Eve responds, looking around. “Well, what about Mike? He’s nice.” She gestures to the bartender, who is walking over to us.

“He is nice,” I agree. Mike went to high school with us, and recently took over running his father’s bar so that his old man could retire. “That’s why Mike is happily married with kids. Because nice guys don’t stay single—they get locked down by all other girls in the world who also want nice guys.”

Eve puts her fists up to the sides of her head and makes a little explosion sound effect as she opens her palms. “My mind is blown,” she says. “That makes so much sense. So basically, we’re screwed. All the good ones are taken. Adam was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’m never going to meet anyone like that ever again. And I let him get away.”

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