Holly's Jolly Christmas (Twelve Nights)

Holly's Jolly Christmas
Ciarra Sims
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2005 Ciarra Sims
An Authorized Excerpt

Dear Santa: I need a man. Not a rich one or a perfect lover, just a kind, caring, maybe funny and decent looking guy…

Holly watched the kids at the mall clamor for a place on Santa's lap as she mused over her love life. Hell, she'd take a Neanderthal at this point, just as long as he knew where to stick it and give her a thrill. Holly tried not to laugh out loud… she was tired and just wanted to lug her last minute gifts home, take a shower and catch a taxi to the airport. She had plenty of time, as her watch would show plainly… she glanced and… Oh damnation, it had stopped!

How long had she been at the mall? Couldn't have been more than forty-five minutes. She was supposed to work a half-day today, but a last minute meeting had trounced that plan. But still, she'd had plenty of time when she'd left the office at 4 p.m. Her flight wasn't until nine. And now it was… where was a clock when you needed one? There -- on the wall above the toy store. 7 p.m.? That wasn't possible! Holly picked up her pace, half running outside. The cabs were filling and pulling away before she could get to the curb. No cabs came to take their place. This was unbelievable! There were always cabs at the mall!

Finally, a single yellow sedan pulled up. Holly barely waited for it to stop before she opened the door and jumped in, throwing her bags on the seat. "Hey, lady. Give it a rest. 'Tis the season you know."

"Yeah, and I'm going to miss my flight."

"To the airport?"

"First to my apartment on White and Fletcher. I'll grab my bag, then to the airport."

"I'll take you to the apartment, but I'm off in thirty."

"I'll pay extra!" Holly almost shrieked.

"Not enough money in the world will make up for my wife's screeching if I don't do some Christmas shopping. Nope, you get another taxi for the airport run."

Holly tried a million ways to convince the driver on the ride to her apartment, but just her luck, she got the one cabbie that wouldn't budge for a hefty tip. She couldn't believe the bad luck she was suddenly having. These things didn't happen to her. She was organized, smart and punctual.

She knew what she wanted and how to get it. Her job as interpreter for the ambassador to the U.N. was regimented and by the book. She spoke four languages and could make a mean chicken cacciatore. She had a smart apartment downtown in a prime neighborhood and knew how to take care of herself. In all ways.

Her sex life was what she made of it. A vibrator she kept hidden in her underwear drawer satisfied her for the most part, if not lacking in spontaneity and imagination. But a vibrator understood late hours and bad schedules, and didn't make demands and insist she make a choice. She did meet dozens of interesting people at the embassy every day, but no prospective bedfellows. There were rules about mixing work with pleasure, and pillow talk was dangerous with foreign dignitaries. So Holly abided by the rules and kept a sharp lookout for Mr. Right Now. She wanted a friend and a lover on her terms.

Once again the holidays had rolled around and she was booked on a flight home to Saint Paul for Christmas. Her family was large and extensive… kids, spouses, significant others and a few tagalongs all converged on the Tanner household to celebrate the holiday spirit. And to grill each other on their lives. If only Holly had a dime for every time someone asked, "How's your love life? Who did you bring home this year? Time's passing, Holly. You can't be too choosy…"

Well, the last was her own little voice, niggling her conscience. But really, to settle on something so important as a mate wasn't Holly's speed. Her life was full and did she really have time for a relationship? Even on her days off she tutored local high school kids in French, German and Spanish. There wasn't time or much energy left over to hunt down and snare her Romeo.

But try telling her family that. They measured success by the suburban standard of marriage, kids and familial responsibilities. It was easier to just pretend she was following the prescribed plan. Two years ago she had brought an unattached neighbor. Barton was well dressed at all times, smart and very talented as an architect. He was also gay. It was a great set-up. No strings attached. Barton was her boyfriend in an easy charade. Her family was impressed and better yet, all intrusive questions on Holly's personal life had stopped. It began as one of the best Christmases in a long time. But then the unthinkable happened and Barton fell for Holly's cousin Ben. Damn!

The two were caught kissing on the porch swing, by Holly's mother no less. And that became the Christmas Holly was dumped and her boyfriend turned gay.

The tale was legendary in her family, and last year the sympathetic looks grew to a new pity plateau. Ben and Bart were still a happy couple and Holly was about to return home to the grilling she dreaded.