Page 8 of Oh, Christmas Con

“What?” Tracy sounded preemptively defensive. “These are literally all in the top ten gas station snack foods list as defined by Justin Kirkland on one of my favorite list podcasts.”

Maye contemplated for a moment. “I don’t understand the majority of the words you just said. Like, I know them. Just not in the way you used them.”

“I can literally feel your disappointment through the phone,” Tracy said.

“Have you listened to Chris Hill’s podcast that I sent you—wait a second…” Maye registered what she had just heard. “You listen to more than one list podcast? Nevermind. Where are you anyway?”

“I am about two hours away from Titusville right now,” Tracy said. “I’ll go to the hotel, check in, and then meet up with some people in the hotel bar.”

“People you know, right?” Maye said, barely trying to hide her skepticism.

“Well, yaaa…” Tracy trailed off. “I mean, we haven’t met in person yet, but we all know each other from online. Like, really well.”

“Tracy!” Maye scolded.

“Maye!” Tracy shouted back. “You don’t get it and I can’t explain it to you. I know these people. We’re all here for the same reason, and it’s something that is fun for us. Let me have this!”

“How is a Christmas convention in the middle of July in Florida fun for anyone?” Maye sighed. “You’re right. I just don’t get it.”

“Maye, trust me when I say this, but you need some fun in your life. You need a hobby, or a pet, or a hobby and a pet.”

“I have hobbies!” Maye contested. “What you consider a hobby just might be different from what I consider a hobby. Hobbies can be a very individual thing.”

“Um, I just checked my top ten hobbies list, and it turns out that brushing your hair and washing your face are not hobbies,” Tracy said.

“But I do those things every day and I enjoy them. What else could you want in a hobby?” Maye said.

“You’re like a grumpy, first-year student who tattles to the RA when someone has too many friends in their dorm room. You’re a frosty first-year. We gotta fix that,” Tracy said as she chomped on something crunchy.

“That doesn’t offend me nearly as much as you’d hope. You know that reiterating rules is one of my love languages, Tracy. And you know what? I could pull on this thread and identify some subconscious factors that might be influencing your choice in hobbies or even explain these summertime Christmas meetups as the avoidance technique that they clearly are, but I am off the clock right now. Actually, speaking of pets, Randall and I were just looking at the animal shelter website to see the dogs they had up for adoption.”

“Wow, things are really heating up between you two,” Tracy said.

“Well, we’ve lived together for almost a year now.” Maye flicked off her office lights and locked her office door on her way out.

“Right, right,” Tracy said. “The natural order of things. Date for a long time, move in together, look at dogs online, engaged by Christmas, married by summer—”

“Well, I don’t have things mapped out seasonally, per-se…”

“My mistake. You probably have it planned down to the month,” Tracy said.

“Hey, if it happens it happens. I love the idea of settling down and spending my life with someone in one place. Randall will be running his dad’s store soon, so I won’t have to worry about getting uprooted and living a nomadic life again.”

“Don’t most marriages end in divorce? That’s why I am married to the game,” Tracy said.

“What game is that, exactly?” Maye asked.

“The game of life, Maye.”

Maye placed her work bag in her trunk and slammed it shut. “Statistically, about one-third of first marriages end in divorce, but there are a lot of factors and the numbers can vary…” Maye heard Tracy fake snoring through the phone so she sped up to finish her point. “Also, couples that have been in a relationship for a few years before getting married have lower divorce rates so we have that going for us.”

“Haven’t you been together, like, a year?” Tracy said.

“We’ve been dating almost three years, Tracy! And with his predictable and consistent lifestyle and my relationship and communication expertise, we should be in a good place to stay strong. Okay, I need to pick up my dinner, so, lucky for you, I have to go.”

“You know that it’s possible to drive and talk on the phone at the same time, right?” Tracy said.

Maye scoffed. “Even talking on the phone hands-free is a form of unnecessary distracted driving. The increased cognitive load. You’re not fully attentive—”