The Christmas Swap

“Also true. Anyway, I’ll concede that sometimes ‘Carl’ is the hot guy.”

“So, do you think he was acting weird?” asked Ash.

“I really don’t know … maybe?” Ash looked crestfallen. “Look, I promise to pay more attention to the ‘Carl’ situation and, if needed, I’ll be your wingman.”

“Wingwoman.”

“Yes, that,” she said, succumbing to another yawn. “Sorry, Ash, I’ve got to go to bed.” Chloe stood and stretched her hands above her head. A full day of work, then an evening event—even though Ash had been on point and she’d only played a supporting role—had left her exhausted. Ash must have been shattered too, only she had picked up the remote and was scrolling through Netflix, so maybe not.

“Night, Ash.”

“Night. And thanks again for all your help tonight.”

“For sure. It was a great event.”

Just as Chloe loaded up her toothbrush with toothpaste, she heard her phone ring from her room. Toothbrush in hand, she raced in, grabbed the phone and tapped the green button just before it went to voicemail. “Hello?” she said.

“Chloe, it’s Mum and Dad.”

“Oh, hi, what’s up?” It was a little unusual for her to get a call from her parents at 10:30pm on a weeknight.

“We have some news, love,” said her dad. Well, that sounds ominous, she thought as she plonked down on the end of her bed.

“O-kay,” she said, her stomach tightening.

“It’s about Christmas …”

Chapter 4

The May Ladies

“Chloe, your camera is turned off.” Lucy frowned at the screen.

“It isn’t. It’s just the middle of the night.”

“It’s 6:00am there. It’s hardly the middle of the night,” said Jules.

“Is it too early? Should we call back in an hour?” asked Lucy.

“She called us, Lucy. Chloe, turn on a light.”

Chloe was abruptly illuminated and blinked into the camera. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic. So, bad morning?” Jules knew her tone was borderline snippy, but she’d had a particularly shitty day.

“Yes. It’s a sucky morning, actually,” Chloe whined.

“What’s wrong?” Lucy’s confused frown morphed into her concerned one.

Chloe sighed dramatically for effect. “It’s my parents …” She wiped sleep from her eyes, oblivious to the horror on her friends’ faces.

“What’s happened?” whispered Jules, suddenly brimming with sympathy. She would get on a plane that day if she needed to.

Chloe looked at the screen. “Oh, no, sorry, they’re fine. I, just—”

Two sighs expelled simultaneously, one from Colorado, the other from London, and Lucy’s hand patted her chest to self-soothe.

“You scared the crap out of us, Chloe.” Jules was going to get on a plane, if only to smack her friend in the head.

“Sorry.”

Lucy blew out another long breath. “It’s all right, but what is going on?”

“They’re going on a cruise.”

Jules was starting to get really pissed off. “There’s more to it, though, right?”

“They’re going on a cruise for Christmas.”

A pair of simultaneous “Ohhhs” echoed about Chloe’s lounge room. She took it as solidarity and an open invitation to rant. “I know! Christmas! And they didn’t even invite me and my brother, so he’s going off skiing in Canada and I’m going to be all alone. On Christmas.”

A muffled voice said something to Chloe and another light turned on, illuminating the kitchen behind her.

“Hi, Ash!” called Lucy through the screen.

Ash walked up behind Chloe and leant over the back of the couch. “Hi, girls. How’s life in the northern hemisphere?”

“Quite lovely, actually,” said Lucy. “It’s that time of year when you forget how cold and grey London can get—you know, daylight ’til ten-ish and warm weather. It was twenty-two today!”

Ash grinned into the screen. “Yeah, that sounds way better than Melbs at the moment. I frigging hate winter. How ’bout you Jules?”

“Yeah, pretty good,” she said, glossing over the reality. “I really need to get out to the coast soon, though. I’m thinking I’ll go see my girlfriend in San Diego—just for a weekend. She’s into sailing, so that would be cool.”

“Uh, hello! We were talking about Christmas. About how I’m going to be alone on Christmas.”

“Are you two sick of Chloe’s whining yet, because I am?” teased Ash.

Ash was one of the three people on the planet who could get away with saying something like that to Chloe’s face. The other two people were on the screen, both stifling laughs.

“Very funny, all of you, but you know what Christmas means to me.”

“Yes!” This time it was three voices in sync.

“Look, I told you last night, you won’t be alone”—Ash gave Chloe a pointed look—“if you just stay here.” Ash looked back at the screen. “Orphans’ Christmas is at our place this year.”

“And what’s that?” asked Lucy.

“I’m going to let Chloe explain. Gotta jump in the shower. See ya, girls.”

“So, an orphans’ Christmas is with your friends, right, the ones whose families aren’t around?” asked Jules.

“Yes.”

“That sounds fun!” Jules replied. If it was possible, Chloe moped even harder.

“So, you won’t be alone then? You’ll be with the other Christmas orphans?” asked Lucy, helpfully.

“It’s not the same. I don’t want to be a Christmas orphan. I just want a normal, traditional Christmas. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

“What do you mean by ‘normal’?” Jules knew what a normal Christmas was to her, but the three of them had never shared the holiday before.

“Well, you know?” From the blank looks on their faces, they did not. “Well, family. Family is a big part of Christmas. And presents. And a tree. And Christmas lunch and wine—you know, a normal Christmas.”

“But won’t you have all that with Ash and your friends?” Jules asked.

“Not the family part.” Chloe seemed to have an answer for everything.

“But they’re your close friends, right? Like us. Aren’t we like family?” Surely Jules could make her see reason.

Chloe shrugged. “I suppose.”

Jules blew out a frustrated laugh. “Way to make us feel special, Chlo.”

Great, now she’d insulted her best friends. “Sorry, you’re right. You girls are like family. And Ash.”

“I know!” Jules could almost see the little lightbulb illuminate above Lucy’s head. “Why don’t you come here for Christmas?” Lucy’s russet brown eyes peered up at Chloe from the screen.

“To London?”

“Yes! Why not? Oh, actually, it wouldn’t be London, because I go home at Christmas, to Oxfordshire, but you’d be most welcome. You could share my old room; we could get a cot for you.” Chloe blinked at the word “cot” but Lucy didn’t notice and kept prattling. “And there’s the village Christmas Fair, and carol singing at the church, and Mum makes the best Christmas cake, absolutely drowning in sherry. All very traditional. Not your kind of traditional, of course, but still, just lovely.

“And I suppose I should say it probably won’t be a white Christmas or anything. In fact, I can’t remember the last time we had one of those. It’s usually more of a slushy, wet, grey day. It can get a little depressing sometimes, if I’m completely honest, because you just end up longing for snow, especially because there’s always snow in the Christmas films, isn’t there?” Lucy was whipping herself into quite the festive season frenzy.

“I mean, Bridget Jones’s Diary—snow. While You Were Sleeping—snow. The Holiday—snow. God, I love that film. Jude Law—mmm. But anyway, it so rarely happens at home. I’d love a white Christmas, now that I think of it.” Her frown returned.

“Well, you should come here, then Luce,” joked Jules. We’ve got snow, that’s for sure. So. Much. Damned. Snow.”

Lucy’s eyes brightened, completely missing Jules’s tone. “Do you mean it? Could I really come?”

Jules barked a wry laugh. “I don’t see why not—if you want a big, loud, crazy Christmas. It’ll be up at our cabin in Breckenridge—and my aunt and her whole family come, so we’d have to share a room. I mean, Christmas with my family can get a little intense, Luce …” She saw Lucy’s face fall just a fraction; she’d have to dial it down. “But I can one hundred percent guarantee you a snowy one.”

A grin split Lucy’s face. “But wait, Chloe, what should we do about you?”

“Sorry?” Chloe, only half-listening to the chat about Christmas in Colorado, was pulled from her thoughts. She’d been imagining herself in a tiny English village having a proper traditional Christmas. Plum pudding, Christmas carols, sitting by the fire drinking mulled wine—even the Christmas Fair sounded fun. And with Lucy off in America, she wouldn’t have to sleep on a cot.

“Actually, even if you do go to America, I think I would like an old-fashioned English Christmas. Do you think your parents would let me come?”

Lucy answered immediately. “Oh, they absolutely would. You’re my best friend!”

“Ahem!” Jules teased.

“Well, you both are. And I’ll miss you, of course, Chloe, but you’ll get the Christmas you want, and I’ll get my snowy one.” She grinned into the screen.

Chloe scrutinised her American friend’s face. “Wait, Jules, what’s going on with you?”

Jules tilted her head to the side and sighed. “I think it’s just … you know, it’s the middle of summer and all this talk about Christmas and winter … to be honest, it exhausts me.”

For Lucy, the penny finally dropped, and she uttered a guilty, “Oh.” She’d been so wrapped up in what she wanted.

“I mean, I love the holiday itself—well, no, that’s not even true anymore. And that time of year … it’s … well, I hate it! I hate being cold, I hate being snowed in, which seems to happen more and more. And yes, I love my family, but sometimes”—she threw up her hands—“they’re too much. I leave Christmas feeling like I need a vacation.”

Lucy couldn’t stand it any longer. “Jules, I’m so sorry. Here I am just going on and on about it.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay. I love that you love Christmas so much—both of you. It’s just not like that for me, not anymore. Honestly, Chlo, your orphans’ Christmas sounds amazing, especially the summer part. I’m actually jealous.”

Chloe’s large green eyes got even larger. “Oh, my god. That’s it. We should do like they did The Holiday and swap Christmases!” She let the thought hang in the air, watching her friends’ faces closely.

Jules’s sigh turned into a contemplative smile and Lucy’s mouth formed an O, then settled into a pout. “But wait, that means I’d be in America by myself.”

“But you’d get your white Christmas, Lucy,” prompted Chloe gently. “Just imagine …”

Jules, completely on board, picked up where Chloe left off. “And my mom would love it, Lucy. So would my dad. They’ll spoil you rotten, I promise.”

Lucy chewed her bottom lip and twisted a long red curl between her fingers. “Be brave, Lucy,” Chloe whispered. If Chloe had a soft spot, it was for Lucy.

Jules imagined herself on a beach in Australia at Christmas and willed Lucy to agree to their plan.

“You know what?” Lucy lifted her head and declared, “I want a white Christmas! Let’s do it. Let’s swap.” She grinned at her best friends.

“Yes!” Jules gave the air a little victory punch.

Chloe did a chair dance. “Ash!” she called over her shoulder, “we’re swapping Christmases—you get Jules.” She looked back at the screen. “Guys, this is going to be amazing!”

Chapter 5

Lucy

Lucy unfurled from the back seat of the Uber awkwardly, still seemingly unused to her long limbs, even though she’d stretched to five-foot-eleven at the precocious age of thirteen. Her eyes fixed on her handbag until she reminded herself that she didn’t need to pay for the ride.

The driver got out to retrieve her case from the boot. It was exactly twenty-three kilos—she’d weighed it on her digital scales in her bathroom—so he struggled with it a bit as he set it on the pavement.

A harried man brushed past her as she extended the handle and she offered an unnecessary apology, then turned to thank the driver, who waved a hand over his shoulder and grunted in reply.

All of a sudden, Lucy was rooted to the spot, a slow terror creeping up from her toes and burrowing in her stomach. What the sodding bollocks, Lucy? she asked herself. It was just a holiday to America. She’d been there several times on their ML holidays.

A family of four, each of them at least thrice her girth, bundled past. The girl, about eleven, rolled her eyes self-consciously at Lucy, a small act of solidarity as the girl silently apologised for her utterly embarrassing family.

Lucy found herself smiling. She was once that awkward tubby girl, horridly embarrassed by her parents, and mortified just to be seen in public. Eleven was such a terrible age.

To her delight, the girl grinned back. And it was just the fuel Lucy needed to quell her unfounded fears, grab the handle of her case and stride into the terminal to catch her plane.

*

Lucy emerged from the double glass doors and scanned the crowd. She’d never seen so many people waiting for passengers before, and she’d just left Heathrow.

The sharp twang of American accents permeated the air and the final scene from Love, Actually played out around her. Hugs, tears, grins, slaps on the back. It was impossible not to feel moved by it all—and just a touch of melancholy.

Her first Christmas abroad and being an only child, it was easy to feel the sting of remorse for leaving her parents at this time of year. It had always been just the three of them, with their own family rituals and traditional ways of doing things. As she scanned hundreds of faces searching for Will, Jules’s baby brother, she wondered if she’d done the right thing.

There.

He stood a head above the people around him with a shock of dark blond hair, exactly the same shade as Jules’s until she’d started highlighting it.

And he was unbelievably handsome.

Lucy wasn’t friends with Will on Facebook, but she’d had a quick look at his profile before getting on the plane so she’d recognise him. In his photo, he was cute, boyish, a male version of Jules, but this Will! This Will was a man. A very hot, very tall man.

Lucy gulped, then raised her hand above her head to catch his eye. When she eventually did, after some rigorous waving and yoo-hooing, her knees nearly buckled. His eyes locked on hers and a grin spread across his face. He raised one hand in a greeting, then started making his way through the crowd to her. Lucy remained where she was and in moments, he was there looking down at her, the grin still intact. “Lucy?” he asked.

She nodded, gulped again, then finally found the ability to say, “Uh, yes. Hello,” which she followed up with, “Very nice to see you again.” Even when dumbstruck, which was more often than she liked, she tended to use her manners. Still, she wished she had something more eloquent to say.

“Yeah. For sure. So, you want me to take that?” he pointed to her case.

“Oh, yes please. Sorry, just a little discombobulated.” He seemed to like her choice of word and a smile danced in his eyes—his gorgeous, cobalt blue eyes.

“Oh, no problem. I’m always a little out of it when I fly too. Come on, let’s get outta here. This place is insane.” Lucy followed the blond hair and the man attached to it out of the terminal.

There was nothing that could have prepared her for the blast of cold that hit as soon as they walked through the automatic doors—not the boots or woollen coat or leather gloves she was wearing—not even a lifetime of living in the UK.

“Oh, my god,” she gasped.

Will looked over his shoulder and stopped. “You okay?” She stood, stock still, her hands flying to her face as the pain in her lungs intensified. “It’s the cold,” he stated, matter-of-factly. She nodded vaguely. “Let’s get you to the car. Come on.” He took her hand and stepped up the pace to the car park. She didn’t even have the presence of mind to notice the handholding.

A few minutes later, they were ensconced in a four-wheel-drive and Will was blasting the heater. “There are seat warmers too,” he said, flipping a switch on the dash.

As the warm air spewed from the vents in front of her, she started feeling her muscles uncoiling. Her cheeks stopped stinging and she could breathe without it hurting. “It’s really cold here,” she said eventually, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m guessing London doesn’t get like this, huh?” She shot a look across the car. He was watching her, one hand resting on the steering wheel and one on his thigh. His hands were large, strong-looking, and unblemished. Her mind flew to all the things he could do with those hands. Stop it, Lucy, she admonished. He’d asked her a question; manners dictated that she should answer it.

“I suppose. Maybe it does, but just a different kind of cold.”

“It’s fifteen below, right now.” She didn’t even bother doing the conversion from Fahrenheit to Celsius; it was ridiculously cold on either scale.

“Well, bollocks,” she replied, her manners eclipsed by the frigid weather.

Will bellowed out a laugh and started the car. “So, hey,” he said, as he pulled out of the parking space, “I know Jules told you we were going to my mom’s place overnight, but if it’s okay with you, I think we should head up the mountain today. There’s a blizzard coming and it could close the pass.”

“Oh.” A blizzard that closed mountain passes sounded worrying, but for all Lucy knew they were a common occurrence in this part of the world. “So, we’re going straight to your family’s cabin?”

“If that’s okay with you.”

“Of course. How far is it?”

“It’s about a hundred miles from here. It usually only takes a couple of hours, but it might take a bit longer today.”

“Oh, right.”

“My mom, my stepdad, and my dad are already up there. My aunt and her family aren’t flying in from Seattle ’til tomorrow, so hopefully they’ll be able to make the drive in the morning. Depends on the pass.”

“Sorry, did you say your mum and your stepdad and your dad are all there together?” For some reason, Lucy thought Jules’s dad wouldn’t be there at Christmas. Had Jules mentioned it and she’d forgotten?

“Yeah, it’s a little unconventional, but they’re all good friends.”

“Huh.” Her parents, Max and Susan, popped into her head and she struggled to imagine a third person with them, a stranger who was married to one of them, and all three of them being the best of friends.

It was going to be an interesting Christmas, that was for sure.

*

“Hey, I’m sorry about this.” It was the third time Will had apologised in less than an hour.

“Honestly, it’s not your fault. It’s the weather.”

They were stopped on the mountain pass, surrounded on both sides by snowdrifts, which were growing incrementally with the light snowfall. They’d been creeping along for the past two hours, often stopping for five, ten, or even fifteen minutes at a time. With the blizzard imminent, it seemed the entire population of Denver was trying to get up the mountain before the pass closed.

Lucy hadn’t minded the delay. She and Will had been talking nonstop since they’d left the airport. She’d learnt all about the tech company he’d built from practically nothing. He had started it only a year ago, working from home at night and on weekends. In six months, he’d been able to quit his job as a software consultant, and he now had an office and four employees.

It was a vastly different career path than her own, having worked in the same department at the same law firm since leaving university. Sure, she’d been promoted several times and now managed a team of three, but it was the certainty of the work that she enjoyed most. The laws and regulations she had to adhere to provided her with a sense of stability and she loved knowing that if she did everything exactly right, the numbers would always add up.

And even though Will’s company supported micro-breweries and boutique distilleries, something she knew precisely nothing about other than her love of a good G&T, there were quite a few similarities between their jobs—namely, finances and laws. It was all very impressive what he’d accomplished, especially for someone who was only just coming up on thirty.

“I really didn’t think traffic would be this awful.” Will’s words permeated her thoughts. “It’s just bad timing, I guess. I mean, we could have waited out the storm in Boulder, but then we were risking missing Christmas.”

Lucy indulged the fantasy of being snowed in with Will—just the two of them. There was a roaring fire in the fantasy and those big strong hands. Her cheeks flushed and she chided herself again. She chanced a glance across the car; he was looking at her and scratching his chin.

“Uh, Lucy, this is sort of awkward, but … oh hell, look, I really have to pee.” He punctuated his admission with a frustrated sigh.

“Oh.” Her eyes widened and she felt the flush in her cheeks spread to the rest of her face. She was, at once, both embarrassed and relieved. She’d needed a wee since just after they’d left the airport. Only, how was this going to work?

“Yeah. So, look, we haven’t moved in a while. I’m thinking I’ll head over that way.” He pointed to a stand of trees about thirty feet away. Well, that sorted Will, but what about her? Realisation seemed to dawn across his face. “Oh, you need to go too, right?”

“Yes.” She pressed her palm to her chest, like she always did when she was nervous or embarrassed.

“Okay, how about this? I’ll go over there, and you open your door and the back door, and you go, uh, there—in between. That will give you some privacy.” He looked out of the windscreen and laughed. “Or you could just do what she’s doing.”

Lucy followed his gaze and saw a woman, trousers and pants down, squatting in the snow on the side of the road. A bark of a laugh escaped her, breaking the nervous tension in the car.

She glanced at Will. “Your plan seems better.”

*

Ensconced back in the warmth of the car, rubbing her chilled hands together and blowing on them, Lucy waited for Will. She didn’t want to look towards the trees in case she saw a flash of his bum, or worse yet, a yellow stream arcing into the snow. She needn’t have worried, though, because moments later the driver’s door opened, and Will climbed back into the car.

He fiddled with a dial on the dash and the air from the vents got warmer. “Well, I have to say,” he said, “that was a first for me.”

“What, weeing outside?” Lucy teased.

Will laughed and Lucy was delighted that she’d elicited such a wonderful sound. “Uh, no. Definitely not. I meant peeing outside in daylight in view of dozens of strangers and my sister’s hot friend.”

Lucy felt the sting of another flush. Hot friend. She ignored the scoffing inner voice, the one that still thought of her as an awkward, podgy eleven-year-old, and instead picked up her end of the banter.

“Oh, I didn’t peek.” He flashed her a grin, one eyebrow raised; she’d always wished she could do that. She was fairly certain it was a flirtatious move and emboldened by her own adventure in outdoor weeing, she continued.

“I’ve always thought it was better to wait until Christmas morning to unwrap presents, rather than to peek beforehand.”

Oh, Lucy, that was utterly cringeworthy.