Page 29 of Not Home Alone

“None of your business,” she says, as she holds the book up for me to see.

It’s The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. Which is, I believe, about Vlad the Impaler. “Ohhh. Isn’t that scary?”

“I wish.”

“Should a sixteen-year-old be reading that, though?”

“No. I’ve read it three times.”

“Festive!”

“What was my mom squawking about in there? Were you in a ballet?”

“It wasn’t a ballet. It’s a stage play that’s based on The Nutcracker and the Mouse King. Which is the story that The Nutcracker ballet was based on. But there’s no ballet in this version. And yes, I starred in it ten years ago.”

“Sounds boring.”

“It’s not. It’s really amazing. Do you like Wes Anderson movies?”

Her face lights up for a split second and then she remembers who she is, slouches, and says, “I guess. Why?”

“This play is written like a play that was written and directed by a character in a Wes Anderson movie. Except it was written decades ago, before Wes Anderson movies were a thing.”

“Wow. Still boring.”

I have an idea that’s probably terrible and spiked eggnog-related, but I really want April to like me and it’s not because I’m scared of her. “So anyway, they stage The Notcracker here every Christmas Eve, and I was asked to direct and star in it this year.”

“Amazing,” she says, as she starts reading again and swiveling the chair away from me.

“Yeah, and The Christmas Barn is sponsoring the production. I’m sure you’re way too busy hanging out with your family here for the next couple of weeks, but we could always use an extra hand with community theater productions.”

She slowly swivels the chair back around to face me, frowning at me. “And?”

“And I was thinking, if you’re not too busy, maybe you could help me design and build the set. Nothing complicated—I only have a budget of a hundred dollars for the set and costumes—but it can be really fun to get creative with a micro budget.”

She considers for a moment. “Would I have to talk to anyone?”

“Yes.”

“Would I have to talk to you?”

“Yes.”

“Where is the stage?”

“The high school! They rent out the auditorium.”

“Ew.”

“It’s so fun! Come on! It’s the best Christmas tradition ever, and I bet you’re really good at painting.”

“I mean. Your enthusiasm is cringe and Christmas is gross. Enthusiasm about Christmas is basically the grossest, cringiest thing I can think of. But if it will get me out of the house, then… sure. I’ll do it. But I won’t like it.”

“That’s the spirit!”

As I pull out my phone to get her number, I see that Grant has sent me a text.

GRANT: It’s 6:05. Where are you?