christmas romance

Miranda woke on Christmas morning to her niece and nephew crawling into Ariel’s guest bed with her.

“Wake up, Auntie Mira. Uncle Adi says he’s going to drink all the grown-up drinks by himself if you don’t come down soon.” Her nephew Finlay was seven, and an alarming conversational sponge.

“Mom said she’d make him shovel the whole backyard all by hisself if he did that,” Finlay’s little sister Elodie was almost six and took everyone at face value.

“Merry Christmas, sweet beans.” Miranda hugged them close. “Let’s go downstairs and rescue Uncle Adi from mimosas and shoveling.”

“Mira, honey,” her mother hugged her hard. “Ariel told us everything.”

“Michael called just a little while ago,” her father added. “He’s bringing Elliot over here around noon.”

Miranda looked up from her mother’s shoulder. “He is?”

“Seems the boy wants to be with his mom today,” her dad said. “Rough night over there, sounds like.”

Miranda’s heart skipped. “Is he okay?”

Her father chuckled. “For Michael, not Elliot. He said the puppy was up half the night crying or peeing.”

“Adorable, furry karma,” Adrian said, placing a mimosa in Miranda’s hand. “Merry Christmas, Bossy.”

“Merry Christmas, Adi.”

“Adrian, come in here and help Greg with the table,” Ariel’s voice cut through the moment.

Miranda leaned her head on her brother’s shoulder. “Why again did I get Bossy for a nickname?”

Adrian laughed. “Where do you think Ariel learned it?”

“Me,” their mother reminded them. She swatted Adrian on the rear and put an arm around Miranda’s waist. “The kids have devastated their gifts already, but there are a few things under the tree for you, sweetie.”

“Your gifts!” Miranda’s chest tightened. “Everything is still at my house.”

“We’ll worry about that later, honey,” her mom said. “Let’s sit for a minute before Ariel marches us all in for brunch.”

Miranda couldn’t help worrying though. She’d used Justin’s key, but only to pace the floor of his downstairs den waiting for Adrian to come pick her up. She’d forgotten the gifts and the huge box of homemade Christmas cookies, but Adrian remembered to bring Marvin.

“Where’s the cat?”

Her father pointed down the hall to where the playroom was. “Ariel put him in there with a foil pan and some kitty litter Greg had around from an oil spill in the garage. She didn’t want him near the tree or the table.” Her father sighed. “He’s got some food and water. He’ll be okay.”

“Poor Marvin,” Miranda said. “It wasn’t his fault. I never should have left that candle burning when I went to get the sushi. I completely forgot about it.”

“Things happen, my girl. You’re all okay, and that’s what matters.”

The funny thing was, she actually felt okay. She had a splitting headache, her hair needed washing, and she was going to have to re-do the kitchen after the firefighters had opened a wall behind the sink to check for fire spread, but she felt okay. No panic attack, no clammy anxiety.

In fact, she hadn’t had one since the night she met Justin.

The doorbell rang before she had a chance to sit with her parents. 

“Miranda, get the door. Ariel’s shackled me to the silverware,” Adrian called from the dining room.

She made her way to the front hall and opened the door. She figured she looked frightening enough to scare off anyone who was out knocking on doors on Christmas day.

“Justin.” A happy shiver ran along her arms at the sight of him.

He was holding two huge bags of wrapped gifts, most of which Miranda recognized as her own. “Merry Christmas. The rest is in the car.”

“What are you doing here?” She took a bag from him and set it inside the foyer. “How?”

“Your brother left a note with his number and an address. Said to be here at noon for brunch if I could and told me where your key probably was so I could bring all the stuff for your niece and nephew.” His lips turned up wryly. “I probably look like a wreck, but I only stopped long enough to shower and get your things.”

“Justin? Is that you?” Adrian breezed into the foyer and handed Miranda his Bloody Mary. He took the remaining bag out of Justin’s hand and put it inside. “Come in. It’s freezing. Is there more in your car? I’ll grab it.”

While Justin was shrugging out of his coat, Adrian gave Miranda a silent double thumbs up and mouthed cutie. Miranda giggled.

“What?” Justin looked around, coat in hand, at the chic splendor of Ariel and Greg’s house. 

Miranda took the coat and hung it in the coat closet. “My brother. He’s too much.”

“Is it okay? That I’m here? Adrian insisted…And I was worried about you both after last night.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “And we’re going to be okay.”

“How’s Marvin?” Justin asked. “Contrite at all?”

“That cat wouldn’t know contrite if it bit him in the ass,” Adrian said, coming back inside with his arms full of gifts from Justin’s car. “He’s definitely my patronus.”

Justin laughed, obviously charmed by her brother. “Is Elliot at his dad’s?”

“He’ll be here later. I want you two to meet properly,” Miranda said, “so he has someone to talk about his new game with.”

“Come in here, you two. Ariel’s going to have a heart attack,” Adrian called. 

“I’ll teach him everything I know,” Justin said.

Miranda knew he was talking about the video game, but she liked the sound of it, just the same.  “Are you ready for this?”

Justin took her hand. “Almost.”

“Almost?”

“Almost.” Justin looked up at the mistletoe ball hung from the chandelier in Ariel’s foyer. “Merry Christmas, Miranda.”

When his lips met hers, Miranda sank into the sweetest Christmas gift she’d had in years. 

Elodie’s piping voice reminded them they weren’t alone. “Auntie Mira is kissing that man.”

Justin blushed, but didn’t let her go. Miranda laid her head on his shoulder to hide her smile as the dining room burst into raucous applause.

“Bossy, bring him in here. I had Adi set a place. It would be nice if I met the man before I feed him.”

Justin raised a brow. “Bossy?”

Miranda’s laughter carried them into Christmas brunch.

The End Beginning

Justin waited at the end of Bobwhite Lane to flag Miranda down. She couldn’t be more than a few minutes behind them, and he wanted to be the one to stop her. Things looked far worse than they were.

At number thirteen, her son was sitting in the open cab of Engine 3, wrapped in a blanket, holding Marvin. The cat, despite his role in the unfolding events, was peacefully settled in his boy’s lap, cleaning his paws.

Miranda’s Camry appeared around the corner of Coturnix and Justin took a deep breath. This part of the job was always the worst for him. The car was already slowing, even as he waved. He didn’t need to look behind him to know what Miranda was seeing as she approached. The scene was all too familiar to him–cruisers, an ambulance, the engine…

It didn’t always look worse than it was.

The window started to slide down. “What’s going on? I–Justin?” 

She barely stopped the car before throwing it in park and getting out. He put out an arm to stop her. “Miranda. Elliot is fine. Your house is okay.”

“I need to–Elliot–“ She blinked at him as his words sunk in. “What happened?”

“Hey, breathe.” He stepped into her field of vision, braced her elbows, and spoke firmly to hold her attention. “The cat knocked over a candle in the kitchen. It caught on a cloth or a towel. Elliot did good. He called 9-1-1, the crew said he smothered it with a small rug and got out. He was outside with Marvin when we got here.”

“They’re okay? Can I go over there? Justin, I–“

“I know. Let’s move your car out of the street and walk over together, okay? They’re clearing the scene. You’ll be able to go inside as soon as we’re sure there’s no danger. In the meantime, I’m going to give you two the keys to my place.” He resisted the urge to touch her cheek; he was in uniform and she was in shock. “It’s too cold out here, and you’ve got dinner in the car.”

“I don’t care about dinner, I just–“

“I know, but you’re going to be hungry when the adrenaline passes, and the house is going to need to ventilate before you should be back inside.”

He radioed a colleague to let them know Elliot’s mom was coming through, and moved her car while she walked ahead. Jogging to catch up while carrying a good-sized sushi order was tricky, but he was by her side when she got to her driveway. Elliot saw her coming and jumped down, scattering the cat. Marvin, sensing an ally, leaped from the ground to Justin’s shoulder, digging in with his claws to stick the landing.

Justin winced at the weight and the stabbing claws, but let the cat perch while Miranda and her son held each other. He heard the boy’s tears and Miranda’s shaky reassurance. He even thought he heard her whisper, “Goddamn Marvin.”

When a high-end sedan rounded the corner a few minutes later going way too fast, it didn’t surprise Justin to see the guy from the weekend before hop out of the car. He’d taken the cat and the sushi (which he secured in the fridge before leaving Marvin alone) to his house, but Miranda and Elliot were still in the driveway talking to his chief, a police officer, and the paramedic.

He went to help his crew clean up get back to the station, but it was hard to ignore Miranda’s distressed voice arguing with her ex. His heart sank, watching Elliot shuffle into his father’s car while Miranda cried. 

His crewmate, Lacey Harrington, watched the family drama unfold as well. “Sucks more on Christmas, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” He hated the thought of Miranda alone in her smoke-scented house for the night. “She’s got a sister nearby. I wonder if she thought to call her family.”

“What’s going on there, Pearson?” Lacey said softly. “I know she’s your neighbor, but…”

“I really like her, Lace.”

Lacey punched him lightly on the arm. “Then finish your shift and go get her, dummy.”

He sighed. “I haven’t even known her a week, and now I’m just one of the first responders from her Christmas fire.”

“Chicks dig firefighters,” Lacey said. “Why do think I joined up?”

Justin laughed. He’d kept his distance from the station crew since his parents’ passing, preferring the semi-anonymity of his online friends, but Lacey’s good-natured ribbing was a reminder that they were his family, too.

The chief released the engine crew, and led Miranda into the house to go over the damage. She glanced over her shoulder at him as they passed. She’d been strong for her son, but she was all alone now, and he wished he could stay behind and reassure her.

“Chief,” he said. “Hold up.”

He joined Miranda and the Chief near the giant ornament. “Miranda, I’ve got to go back to the station, but Marvin and your sushi are at my place. Make yourself at home there when you’re done with the walk through. Call your sister, okay?”

The Chief nodded–both an acknowledgement and a dismissal. Miranda drew in a shaky breath. “Oh no. Ari…Thank you.”

Justin left her there with the Chief, wishing it was his house they’d visited instead.

Miranda and Elliot both had school right up to the twenty-third, and between work, school, holiday baking, gift wrapping, and fielding text threads from Adrian in which he harassed her about bringing the cute neighbor, Miranda didn’t have a free moment to seek out said cute neighbor.

Every evening, when she got home from picking Elliot up at his robotics club meeting, the lights greeted her, but Justin’s house was dark. She’d never thought to ask what he did for work. 

Christmas Eve was spent running a few last minute errands and packing gift baskets for friends. Elliot abandoned video games for online research about caring for his new puppy. 

As if he sensed a rival, Marvin clung to Miranda like a burr, impersonating a small outboard motor and kneading her with his marmalade murder mittens whenever she slowed down.

Elliot chose sushi for their traditional Twas the Night Before Take-out, and Miranda was on her way back with their haul when she saw Justin’s SUV in the parking lot at the fire station. Remembering the stash of Starbucks gift cards in her glove compartment, she swung into the lot. Closer inspection revealed  and went inside.

“Can I help you?” A young woman in a department uniform was manning the desk.

Could this woman help her? She felt like a fool, following a wild hunch on Christmas Eve, while her dinner waited in the car. “I just wanted to stop in an wish the department a merry Christmas.”

She was stammering. It felt like a lie. Until she pulled a couple of cards from her pocket and handed them across the desk. “These are for the crew.”

The firefighter smiled. “Thanks, ma’am. That’s a nice thing to do. Fingers crossed we don’t need ‘em tonight.”

“Right. Yes,” Miranda said, unsure of what else to say. Is Justin here? Is he firefighter, too?

“Inky, is that Mrs. Grayson? Cap’s on the horn with Station 5. He’ll be out in a–Miranda?” Justin came through the swinging door to the engine bay and stopped so fast the door banged into him from behind.

“Inky?”Miranda looked again at the young firefighter. “Emma Skewdosky?” She remembered Emma from the high school, not all that long ago. Somehow, over the generations, the pronunciation of the family’s name had become squid-OFF-ski. Her friends had called her Inky.

“Oh, my gosh, Mrs. McCall,” she said. “I love your hair!”

That’s right, I started coloring my gray just after her graduation. Right around the time Mike left. “Thanks, Emma.”

“It’s Ms. Brewer,” Justin said quietly.

She could get used to hearing him say her maiden name, though she’d never felt so far from being any kind of maiden. Emma was blushing scarlet. “It’s Miranda.”

Emma held up the gift cards. “I’m going to go put these in the truck stockings.”

“I’ve got the office,” Justin said to Emma’s retreating back. He leaned against a file cabinet, a shy smile teasing his mouth. “You just dropped in here to leave Christmas presents?”

“I–“ She didn’t have an excuse beyond I just wanted to see you. “I saw you car on my way by, and…”

He stood, pocketing his hands. “And?”

“And I wanted to see you.” She blurted it out. “I’ve been busy all week, but the lights have been so nice to come home to. Your house has been dark, and I wondered…”

He stopped her rambling. “I’m glad you came by.”

“Me, too, I–You are?” Her heart was thumping too slowly, great pounding beats that knocked against her ribs. Surely he could hear them.

“I’ve had night shifts this week. Covering for the crew who have families. I liked seeing the lights up on your house, too.”

He moved the neighbors snow and put up his own lights on her house. He covered for his colleagues so they wouldn’t miss pre-holiday magic. Swoon.

“Are you working tomorrow?” Miranda failed to keep the hope from her voice.

“Yeah, overnight tonight into the morning. Made sense, since I don’t have anyone waiting on me to open a stocking. Y’know?” His words were light, but Miranda heard the loneliness in them. It was a frequency she vibrated at, as well.

“Well, Merry Christmas. I have dinner in the car. I should–“

This time the alarm cut her off. Justin moved so quickly she wasn’t sure how he’d crossed the room. “Sorry. Gotta go. Merry Christmas, Miranda.”

She waited alone in the office until after the sirens and flashing lights were gone. She wondered if anyone was still at the station, but of course there would be someone left on duty. She fished her keys from her pocket and let herself out. 

She was halfway to her car when she heard Emma’s voice from the doorway. “Merry Christmas and thanks for the coffees!”

Sunday morning, Justin woke to a fifty-two degree bedroom, a dead thermostat, and no double-A batteries, which was how he found himself at the big-box home improvement store before breakfast.

If he hadn’t had a hankering for an omelet while navigating the aisles of the store, he might not have swung into the strip mall next door to grab a stool at Midge’s, and if he hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t have seen the giant ornament in the window of the thrift shop.

He hoped he hadn’t been projecting when he saw disappointment on her face the day before, because it all fell together quite smoothly. He walked into the thrift store while his omelet was cooking, bought the giant ornament, ate his omelet, returned for his prize, and wrestled it onto the roof of his mid-sized urban assault vehicle to bring it back to Quail Ridge.

He’d run extension cords and untangled lights all morning, then arranged the lights and decorations, pausing now and again to dry his eyes–definitely the cold, not bittersweet memories of his mother’s love for the kitschy old wooden decorations–all afternoon. 

By the time the early dark fell and he plugged it all into the outlets on the side of the house, he’d created a vintage seventies-style Christmas lights extravaganza on for Miranda to come home to.

He’d showered, called in a pizza order, and poured himself a beer when Miranda’s headlights cut across his lawn, and it took every ounce of self-control he had left not to throw open a window and holler, “Do you like it?”

Instead, he’d walked down to the garage from the kitchen and gone outside in boots and a jacket like an everyday human. That ruse lasted until he saw her standing in the snow between their houses looking back at her own yard like the woman in those Lexus ads when she sees the car in the driveway.

He opened his mouth to say something clever and witty. “Hey, neighbor.”

Hey, neighbor? Really?

What was it they’d said as kids? Smooth move, Ex-Lax.

She turned a beaming, shiny-eyed smile on him. “It’s beautiful.”

You’re beautiful. “I’m glad you like it. I had this crazy fear you’d be all, ‘Take it down!’ and my mother’s ghost would haunt your house and you’d move out…”

Miranda laughed and he realized that, in all the babbling, he’d cracked a joke about his mother’s ghost. A joke his mother would have appreciated, with her sly, gallows brand of humor. He could picture her, the way she’d looked when he was a kid, shoulder pads and feathered hair, smoking a Doral Gold and pouring a glass of the jug Muscatel his grandmother always brought when she visited to toast the lights.

“I don’t think we’re going anywhere.” Miranda reached for his hand. “Thank you.”

Her leather glove was cool against his palm, hear features shadowed by the glow of the lights. The sparkle in her eyes was unmistakable. 

“You’re welcome. It was no problem, really.” 

“It must have taken hours–“ She’d drifted close; they were nearly toe-to-toe.

“Mom.” Elliot stuck his head out the front door. “I can’t find Marvin’s bowl.”

Miranda dropped his hand and spun in the direction of her house. “Look under the china cabinet the movers left in the living room. He’s been playing hockey with it all weekend.” The door closed again with out a reply. She took a small step back as she turned back to Justin and said softly. “Goddamn Marvin.”

“He bats his bowl around?”

“Like Wayne Gretzky,” Miranda giggled.

Justin really liked the cat’s style. Because his whole day was straight out of the sitcom playbook, the pizza delivery car pulled up just then.

“You were about to have dinner,” Miranda said. “I’m sorry.”

“Just pizza. No big thing.”

“Still,” she said. “I should let you go inside. It’s cold. And I need to figure out something for Elliot and me.”

Halfway back to his own door, he remembered about Armageddon Impact. “Hey, did the gamer speak help?”

She blinked at him for a beat before realizing what he meant. Her face fell. “I didn’t even stand a chance, but who can compete with a puppy for Christmas?” She pushed her hands deep into her coat pockets. “Goodnight, Justin. And thank you again for the lights.”

He had the strangest feeling she was saying goodbye.

Miranda rang Michael’s doorbell with the same sick feeling she had evening Sunday night since he’d left his apartment near the university where he’d taught to live out here in the ‘burbs with Sharli. The only difference on this particular Sunday evening was that instead of returning to the cozy second and third floor condo they’d once shared, a block from both her ex-husband’s new digs and the campus, she would drive home to Quail Ridge.

Sharli answered the door. “Hi, Miranda. How’s Ariel?”

They did this dance every Sunday as well. Sharli desperately wanted to be part of her sister’s orbit. Ariel had influence; she influenced everything she touched, from the internet to the PTO, and Sharli’s custom scented candle business was only afloat because Michael kept it that way.

“She’s well. Busy. My brother’s in town. Can I come in? It’s freezing.”

“Of course.” Sharli swung the front door open and called over her shoulder. “E-dawg, your mom’s here.”

E-dawg? The image of her brother counting on his fingers popped into her head and she suppressed a laugh. Elliot bounded down the stairs, “Mom! Guess what? Dad and Sharli are getting a puppy!”

“Are they? That’s great.” She glanced briefly at Sharli who was hovering near the giant Christmas tree that occupied the great room. Michael appeared from the direction of the kitchen, wearing an apron over his khakis and button down.

“Miranda.”

“Michael.” She picked up Elliot’s backpack. “A puppy, huh?”

“A boy should have a dog.” Michael delivered the aphorism as he would a lecture in one of his classes.

“And Dad says they’re picking her up on Christmas Eve, so I can meet her Christmas Day!”

“We’re spending Christmas Day with Aunt Ari, and Uncle Adrian is going to be there, too,” Miranda reminded Elliot, while managing to pin Mike with a nasty look. “You’re supposed to be spending Christmas Eve here with Sharli and your Dad.”

Sharli looked deeply uncomfortable, her gaze bouncing between Miranda and Mike like the chair umpire on a tennis court. “But, Mike, we have to drive to Connecticut to get the dog on the twenty-fourth. I thought you said–“

“Elliot, can you double check your room and make sure you didn’t forget anything?” Miranda waited until Elliot and his ever-rolling eyeballs slouched away down the hall before addressing her ex’s girlfriend. “I’m sure he told you I’d be fine with switching days, because he assumes no one’s obligations are as important as his own, but we agreed on the holiday split in June, and my family made travel plans accordingly, including my parents, who are flying in to spend the holiday at my sister’s house.”

Mike interrupted. “Miranda, be reasonable. How often does a boy get a dog?”

“It happens every day, Michael. All over the world. And you know that.” She shouldered the bag. “If you can’t host your son for Christmas Eve the way you promised, he can come on Boxing Day.”

“No, I’m coming here on Christmas to meet the puppy.” Elliot reappeared in the hallway, his chin set stubbornly. Like his father’s, Miranda thought with dismay. 

Michael put an arm around their son. “Don’t be unreasonable, Miranda.”

“I can see Uncle Adrian on the day after.” Elliot’s lip trembled, just a bit, like it had when he was little and trying not to cry. “A puppy, Mom.”

Miranda’s heart kicked over and sweat beaded along her hairline. She could feel the heaviness seeping into her extremities, and shadows moved into the corners of her vision. She drew a long breath in through her nose. Not now. Later. Not now. Later.

“Please, Miranda.” Sharli was desperately trying to diffuse the situation, which only made Miranda angrier. 

Interestingly, the rage pushed back at the panic. “Fine. I’m leaving at eight on Christmas morning to go over to Ariel’s. You can pick him up before then.”

“So early?” Sharli said.

“YES!” Elliot shouted, hugging his dad. “Wait, eight? Mom! I’m gonna have to get up at like five to open presents.”

“We’ll discuss it in the car.” Miranda turned and opened the front door without a word, shoulders squared against inevitable collapse. At least she only had a ten minute drive before she could fall apart.

They didn’t discuss anything in the car. Elliot plugged into his twenty øne piløts playlist and studiously ignored her.

Miranda had double check the street sign when she turned down Bobwhite Lane, because she couldn’t find her house at first. Number thirteen was lit up like…Christmas. 

“You decorated the house?” Elliot forgot to be crabby with her, pressing a hand to the glass as they turned into the driveway. Strands and strands of twinkling white lights illuminated the shrubs along the front walkway, the roofline was outlined in colors, a collection of vintage cutouts posed around the yard, and a huge, sparkly, red ornament the size of a small doghouse rested in the snow near the front door.

“No…” She stopped the car in the driveway and climbed out. “I didn’t do this.”

Elliot and his backpack headed toward the ornament, but Miranda followed the ends of the lights, not to the exterior outlets on her house, but into a pair of heavy duty extension cords running across the yard and into Justins’ outlets.

The shaking that threatened all the way between Mike’s house and home receded on a wave of gratitude. 

“Mom, toss me the keys. Marvin’s hungry.”

“Right.” She was standing on the property line in the snow, grinning like a fool over twinkle lights. She dug into her coat pocket for the keys and was about to go rescue Marvin from his hunger, when Justin wandered out of the garage.

“Hey, neighbor.”

Sister Sundays always began with breakfast cocktails. They didn’t always begin with unexpected knocks on Miranda’s sister’s front door.

“Surprise!” Miranda’s brother Adrian called out from Ariel’s foyer. 

Miranda set down her mimosa and rushed out to the hallway to hug him. She held his shoulders and looked him over. Even in his late-thirties, he had a boyish energy that animated his fair features. Miranda envied his fresh-faced good looks; lately her reflection seemed desperately in need of a spa day.

“What are you doing here?”

Ariel followed her into the foyer. “I hired him to do a photoshoot for Mommy-Go-Lucky.”

“Nepotism much?” Miranda laughed. Her sister’s parenting-advice site was currently at the top of the internet heap, with an editorial board and a stable of paid writers, a far cry from the blog she started when her kids were born.

Adrian shucked his coat; almost immediately he moved to Ariel’s side. Miranda wondered if they were even aware of the emotional gravity that anchored them to one another. Or that they were almost too similarly gorgeous to look directly at. 

Adrian ruffled Ariel’s chic shag. “That, and it means I’m here for Christmas. All part of her nefarious plans.”

“You’re staying?” Miranda reached for the pair of them. “Elliot will be thrilled.”

Adrian peered down the hallway, as though his nephew might pop out of the powder room any moment. “Where is Boy Wonder today?”

Ariel’s expression darkened. “Michael’s house. That candle-pimping tart he’s shacked up with is probably trying to bond with him. She’s closer to Elliot’s age than Michael’s.”

Adrian started counting on his fingers. “Actually, she splits the difference exactly.”

“I made Bloody Marys for you,” Ariel said to Adrian, sensing Miranda’s discomfort. She shot her twin a look. “Take off your shoes.”

“Fine,” Adrian grumbled. “But then I want to know when Mira’s going to bring home a sugar baby of her own.”

“You’re disgusting,” Miranda said, wrapping an arm around her baby brother’s waist.

“I’m adorable,” Adrian said, walking them into the kitchen. “And equal opportunity. I wouldn’t mind a sugar baby for myself. Preferably one who looks like Harry Styles.”

“Yes, well, I’d love for Idris Elba to turn up on the doorstep looking to whisk me away from all this,” Ariel gestured to the bespoke kitchen she and Greg put in the year before, “but I’ll settle for Greg.”

“Foxy,” Adrian said. He poured himself a pint glass of Bloody Mary from the pitcher on the island, then grabbed the mimosa pitcher and topped off his sisters’ glasses. “So’s Greg.” He waggled his eyebrows.

“You are disgusting.” Ariel’s insult was without venom. She turned on Miranda. “But he’s got a point. When are you going to bring someone for Christmas dinner? Are you even attempting to date?”

Miranda sighed, searching the fizz atop her drink for an answer that would satisfy her siblings and coming up short. She hated to be a downer, but the truth burst out. “I can’t date. I’ve had panic attacks after every date I’ve been on since the divorce. It’s no good.”

“Men are terrible,” Adrian said. He squeezed her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Mira.”

Ariel was a little less sympathetic. “Maybe the dates aren’t the trouble. Maybe the right guy just hasn’t come along.”

“It’s all the same if it ends with me in a sweaty, clammy paralysis.”

Adrian snorted. “If you’re going to get sweaty after a date–“

“Don’t.” Ariel shut him down like the professional mother she was, before returning her attention to Miranda. “Are you still seeing your therapist?”

“Aren’t I the older sister?” Miranda said.

“Older doesn’t necessarily mean more pulled together,” Ariel said. “You can’t waste your life–”

“I’m not wasting anything, Ari. I have–“

“Needs.” Adrian toasted his sisters. “You have needs, just like the rest of us. Time get them scratched.”

Ariel set her glass down hard. “Are you trying to be foul?”

Adrian laughed. “When did I ever have to try?”

“I think you’re talking about itches, Adi. Itches get scratched. Needs get met.”

Adrian crooked a brow at her. “Not yours, Bossy.”

“Just because I don’t jump my cute neighbor five seconds after I meet him doesn’t mean my needs aren’t being met.” She anger-drained her mimosa, regretting it almost instantly as the bubbles hit the back of her throat.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Adrian perched on the stool next to her. “Cute neighbors are good.”

“Stop it.” Miranda dropped her flaming cheeks into her palms. “I literally met him Friday night. He helped me with Elliot’s Christmas gift, and offered to snowblow my driveway.”

“That’s hot.” Adrian hugged her. “You should hit that. Unless he’s a total uggo.”

“Are you fourteen?” Ariel leaned over the island, propping her chin on one hand. “Mira, I swear to god, aliens put him in Mom’s womb with me.”

“You wish. I got all the fun genes. Ari got all the serious ones.” Adrian threw a walnut from a tastefully arranged bowl. It bounced off Ariel’s nose and plopped into her drink.

Miranda couldn’t help laughing. It was like watching two sides of a coin sniping at one another. They were forever themselves, her beautiful devoted siblings; they loved her without reservation, but she would never be part of their exclusive club of two. Sometimes she envied them, sometimes she thought it might be exhausting.

“Let’s see the story boards for your shoot,” Miranda said, knowing it would distract the pair of them from her non-existent love life.

It worked, and the rest of her Sister Sunday passed peacefully enough until it was time to go get Elliot. Ariel waylaid her in the powder room.

“We love you, Bossy. We just want you to be happy.” She tucked Miranda’s hair behind her ears. “And maybe for Michael to get abducted by Adrian’s real family.”

“I heard that,” Adrian chimed from the foyer.  

“I love you both.” Miranda slipped past her sister. “And I promise, I’ll be okay. See you at Christmas dinner.”

Adrian waited, Bloody Mary in hand, in the doorway until she was in her car. She rolled down the window to wave goodbye in time to catch his parting advice.

“Bring the neighbor for Christmas!”

…to be continued.