When people start filing out of the bar to head to the golf course restaurant, Tee Time, for the white elephant gift exchange and it quiets down a bit, I hear my phone chime with an incoming text, and I grab it out from under the bar where I stowed it next to my purse. I smile when I see the text, and butterflies flap around in my stomach. Then I immediately get annoyed that a stupid text from a stupid boy makes me feel all giddy. I don’t do giddy.
Bodhi: How’s it going, my little firestarter? Have you killed anyone yet?
Me: Fuck off.
Bodhi: That’s the spirit! I miss you too. How are you feeling? Is your fever still gone?
Me: My fever is gone, but I’m still dying from a brain tumor. I’ve named him Tiny Tim. See? I can be festive AF.
Bodhi: You are not dying from a brain tumor. Serious question though. Can we get a pet and name him Tiny Tim the Tumor? Maybe something in the turtle family.
Me: We’re not getting a turtle. There is no other explanation for me crying while watching a Hallmark Christmas movie with you yesterday, aside from the fact that I’m dying from some incurable disease with only months left to live. I haven’t cried since that one time on a Tuesday in 1998 when I stubbed my toe.
Bodhi: You cried because that movie was about a widower who moved to a small town to run the local inn and never thought he’d love again, while also winning the town’s baking competition and fake-dating Santa’s daughter so Santa would stop pressuring her to get married. It was poignant and beautiful and deserved our tears, Tess. You didn’t cry because you’re dying.
Me: Whatever. Something is wrong with me. You’ll see. And I already gave my doctor your cell phone number, and he is under strict instructions to call you and only you. You should probably start practicing how you’re going to tell me I’m dying. You can laugh, but only for three to five seconds, and then you have to get serious.
Bodhi: I know what you need.
Me: If you say your dick, I will shank you with a candy cane.
Bodhi: I wasn’t gonna say my dick.
Bodhi: I was gonna say come sit on my North Pole. Anyhoo, I think you need a few days away to recharge. Get away from the Christmas craziness and the two new shipments of glitter Shepherd just got from Amazon today for those holiday shirts we’re supposed to help make.
Me: I can still taste the glitter from those fucking Thanksgiving shirts we had to help with.
Me: And as lovely as a getaway sounds, I don’t have time to plan a getaway the week before Christmas. Oh, look at that. Birdie just sent me a text with our social calendar for the next week. Looks like I’m going to be busy dying before I ACTUALLY die.
Bodhi: Don’t you worry about a thing. Bodhi’s got it handled and will take care of everything.
Me: Like the time you “handled” making the stuffing for our first Thanksgiving together and forgot the container you labeled parsley wasn’t actually parsley? You’re lucky I refuse to eat soggy bread that’s been cooked in a bird carcass.
Bodhi: Right, so maybe handled a little bit better than that. But everyone was in a GREAT mood for the rest of the day, and they literally ate everything, and we didn’t have a weeks-worth of leftovers. Plus, Murphy giggled! Highlight of my life so far.
Me: Are you forgetting he tried to strangle you after he sobered up?
Bodhi: He wasn’t trying to strangle me. It was just a very firm hug with his hands, while he was straddling me on the ground. And I will handle this like a responsible adult who will make an excellent husband shall you decide to take one in the near future.
Me: Eat. Shit.
Bodhi: Love you too, sweetie. See you when you get home. I’ll be the one naked by the tree, wearing just a pair of pointy elf ears.
Bodhi: FYI, it’s for our Christmas card next year.
CHAPTER 2
“Sleigh my name, sleigh my name.”
(310) 867-5309: Hey, Millie! Sorry it’s been so long, but I need your help with something pretty important.
Millie: OMG, I told you that you are not allowed to text me.
(310) 867-5309: Seriously, Millie? Wait… did you check into rehab again just because you like the coffee? You know they take your phone away every time, and you always get in trouble for sneaking it out of lock-up.
Millie: First of all, I didn’t check into rehab those three times. I was there visiting Ben Affleck, and he was just so sad and lonely that I decided to stay for a few weeks. And they really do have the best coffee. Anyway, why are you texting me? It was one night. You have GOT to get over me already.
(310) 867-5309: Well, this is certainly fun! Who exactly do you think this is?
Millie: The guy I fucked in Mykonos?
(310) 867-5309: Um, definitely not.
Millie: The guy I fucked in Palm Springs?
(310) 867-5309: Negative, Ghost Rider.
Millie: The guy I fucked in the Prada dressing room on Rodeo Drive?
(310) 867-5309: We’re gonna be here a while, aren’t we? Man, you go six months without talking to someone you’ve been friends with FOREVER, and they forget who you are. How about a hint? You were with me the first time I did mushrooms, and I threw up on your Louboutins.
Millie: Frankie Muniz? Michael Bublé? Steve Guttenberg? Either of the Olsen twins? Honestly, that’s the worst hint EVER.
(310) 867-5309: Okay, how about… I just got in some new strains you might enjoy—Rudolph the Red-Eyed Reindeer, Merry Kushmas, It’s a Weederful Life, and Winter Bowlstice.
Millie: BODHI!!! My sweet, wonderful friend! Sorry for all the confusion. I just got a new cell phone due to a tiny stalker sitch and lost all my contacts.
Bodhi: Stalker?! Are you okay?
Millie: It’s totally cool. It’s like, the third one this month. I’m so bored with their lack of imagination and follow-through. I get it. You want me to die. And yet, where are you? Certainly not outside my house where I left you a lovely charcuterie that went to waste. Anyway, where have you been?! You fell off the face of the earth after that football player you worked for threw his soccer ball in the water.
Bodhi: It was a golfer and… never mind. I’m outstanding. Better than outstanding, actually, and that’s why I’m texting you. I’m in love, Millie. I’m in love, and she’s perfect, and my woman needs a break, and I need to get her away from here for a few days so I can try proposing again, and hopefully she won’t tell me to fuck off again.
Millie: OMG I love her already! Bring her to me. Bring her to me right this instant so we can go to lunch, and go shopping, and get facials, and be BFFs forever!
Bodhi: Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. As much as I love you, I haven’t been back to L.A. in twelve years, and I’m definitely not gonna come back now. And also, Tess is a little… high strung lately. She needs quiet and calm and anything flammable kept a good distance away from her unless she’s safely outside. I was wondering if you’re still friends with Allie Parker and if she’s still with that guy whose family owns the bed and breakfast you told me about last Christmas.
Millie: That is exactly what I’m saying! I’m at The Redinger House right now helping out, and you HAVE to come! Jason’s parents went on vacation for the first time ever and left Allie and him in charge. And it’s Allie Redinger now. She got married to Jason over the summer, and OMG I was just stunning in the bridesmaid dress I had Vera Wang whip up for me. I haven’t noticed, but according to Allie, it’s a little busy here right now, but it’s fine. I’ll just cancel someone’s reservation.