alone. As she hunted in the attic for wrapping paper, or tried, with sorry results, to replicate her mother’s toffee, Alex felt assaulted by the expectations of the season. She didn’t want to do any of it. She wanted to spend Christmas alone in a dark room, with a blanket over her head. But she knew that her aunt and uncle would never allow it. In their good-hearted way they were determined to include her, to remind her that she still had a family, even if she felt as if she didn’t. And she knew what her parents would want her to do. They would want her to try.
She avoided midnight Mass on Christmas Eve, and wore her robe and pajamas until Christmas afternoon. She fielded phone calls and texts and, at around two o’clock, was dismayed to hear a knock at the front door. She opened it a few inches and looked out, frowning. Seth Paige stood on the front step, holding a Christmas cookie tin and a bottle of wine.
He smiled, and then frowned as he realized she was in a robe and pajamas. He looked upset at the sight of her.
‘Merry Christmas,’ said Alex.
‘Are you . . . are you spending Christmas alone?’ he asked.
‘No,’ said Alex, pushing her hair out of her face. ‘I just . . . um . . . I just haven’t gotten dressed yet. What’s up?’
‘I brought you some Christmas cheer,’ he said, hoisting the wine bottle. ‘And some of these cookies. Janet went on a baking binge before she left town.’
Alex opened the door a little wider and accepted the wine and the cookies. ‘Do you want to come in?’ she asked in a discouraging tone.
Seth hesitated. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Just for a minute.’
Alex let him in and tightened the sash on her robe. She led him past the stack of boxes in the hallway into the living room. She sat down on the edge of a sofa cushion, the wine tucked in the crook of her arm, the cookie tin perched on her lap.
Seth sat down in a chair opposite her and rubbed his large hands together. ‘I wanted to come by because I felt bad about the other night. I was afraid that you might have left the party because of some stupid thing I said about your dad.’
Alex shook her head. ‘No, no. I wasn’t in a party mood,’ she said. ‘Actually, it was nice, what you said about Dad.’
‘Are you spending most of your time alone here?’ he asked, unable to keep the reproof out of his voice.
Alex sighed and looked around at the disorder. ‘Well, I’m trying to clean the house out. It’s really kind of solitary work, you might say.’
‘Tough going through everything,’ he said. He pushed his glasses automatically back up on his nose.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what to do with half the stuff. Their clothes . . . I think my mom saved every piece of Tupperware . . . All my dad’s books . . . Would you be interested in any of those? I hate to throw them away.’
‘I’ll come and take a look. Absolutely,’ he said, nodding.
‘Do you want to look now?’ she asked.
‘No, another time. It’s Christmas.’
Alex nodded, slightly embarrassed. ‘Right.’
Seth hesitated. ‘I know how it is,’ he said. ‘I remember the Christmas my mother died. I was only twelve, but I’ll never forget it. I mean, everything about her death sucked, but that Christmas really stands out in my mind.’
Alex smiled and felt herself uncoil slightly. He really did know. She could not even remember Mrs Paige, but women in the neighborhood used to cluck about how tough it must be for Mr Paige to raise his kids alone. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘It’s not good.’
‘I just want to be sure that you’re not going to sit here by yourself for the rest of the day,’ he said. ‘You can always come down and join me and my dad. He’s still pretty much confined to a chair, but there’s food, some decorations and the requisite loop of Christmas songs.’
Alex smiled. ‘Thanks. That’s really nice. But I’m going to my aunt and uncle’s for Christmas dinner.’
‘You’re sure?’ he said.
‘Scout’s honor,’ said Alex, awkwardly raising two fingers. ‘In fact, I should probably get dressed.’ She stood up. ‘But thank you for the cookies and the wine. That was thoughtful.’
‘No problem,’ said Seth. He stood up and headed to the front door. Alex shuffled along in his wake in