Page 28 of So This Is Christmas

“Nothing that out of the ordinary. My father and I usually go to mass with my mother—she can take any nonreligious holiday and make it into a religious one. Heck, she can take any random weekday and make it into an occasion to go to mass. I was just talking to my mother, who told me she lit a candle for me today at church, which was...” She paused to clear her throat. “Nice. So to answer your question, we usually go to church, then we watch some football and have the typical big dinner.”

“Turkey, yes? Or is that just on television?”

“Definitely turkey. And mashed potatoes and stuffing and all that. Pumpkin pie.”

“And are you joined by other family members?”

“No. It’s just us. My father’s parents are dead, and his only remaining sibling lives in Florida. My mother is... on her own.”

It seemed like there was a story there, but he wasn’t going to press. His aim was merely polite conversation.

“And what about you, Mr. Benz? Does Eldovia have any kind of harvest holiday?”

“No. I think that would merely get in the way of our collective obsession with Christmas.”

She laughed, and he was pleased to have been the source of it. “I have to say, even in the few days I’ve been here, I’ve seen things ramping up. I thought that first day, with the tree and the hot chocolate in the village square, and the snow globes here at thebar, that you already had a lot of Christmas going on. But every day there seems to be more.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.” He waved dismissively. “In the coming weeks there will be hay rides, organized caroling, a live nativity, and an ice slide constructed in the village.”

“And I understand there’s a cocoa-themed ball on Christmas Eve?”

“Indeed. There’s a cocoa festival during the day and a ball in the evening. In between, the royal family holds its annual Christmas levee. Are you familiar with the term?” Americans often weren’t.

“I am. It’s like office hours for the peasants, right?”

He could not help but laugh at that, which he hated doing. Shewasfunny, though.

“I’m a bit sorry I’ll be flying out the morning of the twenty-fourth,” she said. “A person—or at least an American commoner—probably only gets one chance to attend a royal ball. I admit to being tempted when the king invited me to stay for it, but I’m already in enough trouble at home for having missed Thanksgiving.”

“Ms. Delaney, I can assure you the king would welcome you back to the ball any year of your choosing.” Indeed, the king seemed impressed with his hired gun. She’d apparently already uncovered a major inefficiency in Morneau’s contracts for the boxes the watches came in.

They ate in uncharacteristically companionable silence for a few minutes until Ms. Delaney asked, “If Christmas is such big business, particularly at the palace, with Cocoa Fest and the ball, that must mean you don’t get to spend Christmas with your family?”

“It does mean that, unfortunately. It’s part of the job.” Althoughthat wasn’t entirely fair. The king would not object to Matteo taking some time off at Christmas. He probably would not even object to him skipping the ball. It was more that Matteo’s expanded mission required his presence over the holiday. “I’ve grown accustomed to it, though,” he added, because Ms. Delaney was looking at him with sympathy. “I’ve developed my own traditions of sort.”

“What are those?”

He almost didn’t tell her. It sounded so silly.

“What?” she prompted in a good-natured yet persistent tone.

“Well, if you must know, after all the Christmas hullabaloo is done, I’m usually too wound up to sleep, so I tuck into my apartment and watch Star Wars movies as the sun comes up.”

“You do not!”

“I do. I’m something of a fan.”

“Youare? How didthathappen?”

He had well and truly shocked her, which made him smile. He thought about how to answer, about how to tell the truth without trotting out the specifics. “There was a time in my life when I was in need of some escapism. It was right around the time the new movies started, and let’s just say that at that point, a galaxy far, far away seemed like somewhere I would like to be.”

“Really?”

She was still shocked. He had said too much. “We all have our struggles,” he said vaguely, hoping that would be the end of it.

“I guess. It’s just that you don’t seem like the struggling type.”

“Mm.” He wasn’t sure how to explain without sparking another argument aboutPride and Prejudice.

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