Hating Christmas (Holiday Series)

By

Carol Rose

Copyright Carol Rose 2012

Cover image courtesy of JackyBrown &
Canstock.com

Cover by Joleene Naylor

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* * * * * * * * *

Part of the Holiday Series by Carol Rose:

1. Hating Christmas
   

2. No Bunny But You
   

* * * * * * * * *

Holly Fitzgerald hated Christmas and never more than
at this moment. She stepped into the body of the airplane and
looked down the crowded, chaotic aisle, shrugging her shoulder to
keep the heavy carry-on and her computer bag from slipping off. The
narrow aisle between the rows of seats was clogged with harried
travelers—several men in suits who looked annoyed by fathers loaded
with strollers and stuffed toys and harassed mothers with whining
children. Several passengers were shoving bags that looked as heavy
as hers into overhead bins …and everywhere people kept offering
‘Happy Holiday’ salutations like it was a silly talisman.

Horse hockey.

All the way through the airport concourse, Christmas
music had blared and, of course, red and green tinsel sprang out
from every shop along the way, trying to convey that spending money
there would ensure Christmas bliss for loved ones. It was
sickening.

Firming her mouth with determination, Holly shrugged
the straps up again and inched along the aisle behind a tall guy
who liked good tailoring.

She really should have been in an editing booth right
now, wrestling with the cuts that would make her best interviews
shine and show the reality of the chronic poverty and hunger in
Tanzania. Africa wasn’t sexy these days and too damn many crises
were competing since Michael Moore got everyone interested in
documentaries.

She really had to make this film speak out.

Holly huffed a frustrated sigh. She didn’t have time
for all this friggin’ mistletoe crap. This was always a stupid time
of the year, filled with forced gaiety and disappointed
expectations. She hated the whole holiday season.

And now she had to make this rescue mission, spending
ten days she couldn’t spare right now, going to Minnesota for the
Christmas holidays! Her mother had wanted her for two whole weeks,
but Holly just couldn’t spare the time. They’d compromised.

As the line of boarding passengers shuffled a few
steps forward, the guy in front of her looked back over his
shoulder and admonished her. “I think they’re moving as fast as
they can.”

Holly made a face at the back of his dark,
well-shaped head. She wasn’t in the mood for this. This trip—at the
worst travel time of the year—was irritating as hell, and on top of
that, she was worried about her mom.

Did people develop dementia at fifty-two? When they
hadn’t had any previous symptoms?

Her normally level-headed mom needed her immediately.
Even if it was a bad time for Holly to leave LA, her mom needed her
like never before. Her mother had to get out of this impulsive
marriage now and Holly was the one to make her see it. From the
time Holly had gotten her mother’s giddy call—from a cruise ship,
no less—announcing her impending marriage to a guy she’d just
reconnected with after forty years, Holly had known they were
facing an emergency.

Holly had been in Zambia at the time and she hadn’t
been able to fly back to bring her mother to her senses in time to
put the brakes on this mess.

Her mom hadn’t even dated much since her father’s
death twenty years before—and suddenly she gotten married to a man
she hadn’t seen since they were kids! A man she met again on a
singles cruise, for heaven’s sake!

So here Holly was trekking to western Minnesota to
convince her mother get a divorce, if an annulment wouldn’t
fly.

Over the dozen or so years since her dad’s sudden
death, Holly and her mom had been a team. They faced the world
together, taking on everything from annoying landlords to difficult
high school teachers to the IRS, when her mother’s records had
gotten lost. No one listened to her with as much interest as her
mom when Holly vented her frustrations in making her first
documentary and no one cared more about the issues that burned
brightest for her now. Mom had been her only parent and her biggest
supporter.

Holly was determined to do the same for her mother
now.

If only this stupid holiday stream of airline
passengers would find their seats!

“Good grief!” Holly muttered aloud to herself,
hitching up the shoulder bag and her computer again.

The man ahead of her glanced over his shoulder, this
time saying with a charming smile, “I’m sure your family will hold
Christmas dinner.”

“I couldn’t care less about Christmas dinner,” Holly
retorted, spotting her seat row ahead. She was only barely
conscious of the amused glance the man in front of her threw her
way as she shuffled forward to claim her spot.

Popping open the overhead bin, she hauled her
carry-on up to thrust it into the space, keeping the lighter
computer bag to work during the flight. While her arms were still
lifted to shove the recalcitrant luggage into the space, she saw
that the annoying businessman with the well-shaped head slide into
the seat in front of her.

Her seat.

He tucked his slim briefcase under the seat in front
of him, adjusting his expensive suit jacket to make it settle on to
broad shoulders before he took a Blackberry out of one pocket.

Holly glanced quickly at the ticket stub in her hand.
“Ummm. I think you have my seat.”

The man smiled at her, a mixture of amused
condensation and flirtation. “I know this travel experience has
been frustrating for you so far—“

“What!” she exclaimed as several passengers pushed
past her. “You don’t know anything about me, mister.”

“I beg to differ--” He offered what would have been a
charming smile if he was hitting on her in a bar in Los Angeles.
“No one observing your impatience with the boarding process could
remain ignorant of your frustration.”

“What the--!” Holly sputtered, shifting to the side
as a heavy man muttered “Excuse me” as he moved past her.

“Flying at this time of year is frustrating,” her
seat-interloper said with smirky condensation.

She stood in the narrow aisle, registering him more
fully as he continued.

“I try to avoid traveling during the holiday season
at all costs, but when you’re in the middle of the chaos, it’s best
to just go with the flow.” His smile was white against his narrow,
tanned face.

He looked familiar to her, but she worked in the
entertainment world where dark-haired men in really great suits
abounded. The downside of making documentaries was that she dealt
with all kinds of powerful snakes who drove fast, flashy cars. She
just wished she could afford the cars. The snakes she could do
without.

Shifting to one side as another passenger arrived to
sit in the row in front of hers, Holly tried again. “Look, you’re
sitting in my assigned seat and I’d appreciate it—“

A flight attendant appeared next to her. “Is there a
problem? We have a full plane today and we need to clear the
aisle.”

Hoisting her laptop again, Holly responded
pleasantly, sending the woman a quick smile, “I’m trying to clear
the aisle, but this guy is sitting in my seat.”

She held her boarding pass up for the attendant to
read. “See?”

The attendant glanced at her boarding pass and then
said to the dark-haired man, “Excuse me, sir—“

Rolling her eyes upward as she recognized the woman’s
deferential tone, Holly maintained her silence, knowing nothing
good would come of her pointing this out.

“—could we look at your ticket?”

The request was made almost apologetically, which
irritated Holly more. The guy was sitting in what was clearly
her
assigned seat and the flight attendant was acting like
the situation was open to interpretation.

“Of course,” the dark-haired suit-guy stood, the
bulk-head above the seat requiring him to bend his head and
shoulders as he reached into his pocket. “Here we are.”

Handing the boarding pass to the attendant, he met
Holly’s gaze with the same warm, flirty smile that made her want to
hit him.

“I’m sorry, sir.” The flight attendant sounded
genuinely regretful. “Your seat is actually in the row behind
this.”

The guy looked at down at the boarding pass in his
hand. “Well. So it is. My mistake.” He smiled at the woman as if
she were his friend.

“No problem, sir. Can I help you move any carry-on
luggage?” The attendant almost twittered in her eagerness to
respond to his smile.

“No, thank you. This is all I have.” The man got his
briefcase and moved into the aisle before glancing up at Holly in
brief acknowledgement. “My apologies.”

She had to remind herself not to beam at him in
response like the silly flight attendant.

“No problem,” she said, keeping her brief smile
neutral as she stepped into the place he’d just vacated.

As the other passengers settled down around them, the
plane fell quiet, just the hushing sound of the circulated air and
the occasional low-voiced conversation from the people in the other
seats. Unfortunately, Holly found herself more aware of the
dark-haired man behind her than she should have been. She unzipped
her laptop case and tried to focus on her work for the four hour
flight, but to her irritation, she noticed when he cleared his
throat or spoke to his seatmate. Her concentration on the script in
front her was even interrupted by his short conversation when
another attendant pushed the drink cart down the aisle and paused
to get his order.

Ridiculous. She finally managed to get herself under
control and sank into the film treatment with her usual focus.

They were landing in Minneapolis before she knew it
and Holly exited the plane, wondering how long she’d have to walk
before she reached the car rental counter.

On the long-ish trek to the Baggage Claim area, her
mind returned to her mother’s recent marriage. Her mom knew Holly
hated Christmas, but she’d insisted her daughter come home for a
week over the holiday to meet Michael Something-or-other—the man
she’d married without even waiting to introduce him to her only
daughter.

Holly wasn’t loving Michael or the fact that he’d
pulled her normally rational mother into this marital mistake.
Everything had been so rushed, Holly wondered if her solvent mom
had been the target of a loser who didn’t want to make his own
money. The speed of it all left a bad taste in her mouth. She
couldn’t help but suspect the worst. Fifty years ago people might
have rushed into marriage so they could have sex, but those rules
didn’t exist anymore and just the thought of her mother
in
flagrant delecto
with a middle-aged dude made her queasy.

Feeling her mouth pulled into a grim smile, Holly
walked up to the huge baggage carousel.

The carousel lurched forward just as she arrived, a
chute emitting luggage pieces one at a time in spurts.

Passengers from the plane were all lined up around
the baggage area, the air torn by the buzz of voices as people
gathered around like vultures, ready to retrieve their belongings
and rush off to where ever they were headed. Travel always had some
chaos to it, but the sheer number of people bustling through and
the anxiety in the air—mingling with the same old tired Christmas
songs being piped throughout—lent travel at this time a desperation
that Holly tried to avoid. Children’s petulant cries and parents’
irritated responses just put the cherry on top in her mind.

There was nothing happy about the holidays.

Soon the baggage carousel rotated around with a
collection of items that ranged from cross-country skis that were
unmistakable in their long carrier bags and a motley array of
luggage. Here and there, children’s car seats could be seen amidst
the items circling around. From the far chute, Holly saw her black
bag—like so many others—slide down on to the rotisserie. She
traveled often and she’d learned both not to spend a lot of money
on luggage that would invariably get beaten to pieces and that she
needed a way to identify her bag from the others. Fortunately, a
girlfriend’s party a few years back had yielded her a small, red
heart that could be attached to luggage.