Meant To Be by Karen Stivali Page A

get all this over to the theater.”
    Marienne tingled from the contact. “Let me help you.” She went to pick up a box, but Daniel took it from her hands.
    “I’ve got it,” he said. “You have plenty to do putting away your wall of men.”
    He grinned, his hair falling across one eye, looking twice as charming in person as in any of the photos.

Chapter Thirteen

    It was an exceptionally cold morning for early December. Even inside the train Daniel was freezing.
    “You coming over tomorrow night?” Frank asked as he shoved his briefcase under the seat.
    “I think so,” Daniel said. “Justine mentioned it last night, so I assume we’ll be there.”
    “Good. Marienne’s on one of her baking sprees, and someone’s got to eat all that crap. Freaking Christmas.”
    “What about it?” Daniel asked, confused. “It’s not for three weeks.”
    “For Marienne Christmas starts as soon as Thanksgiving is over, even the twelve days of Christmas aren’t enough for her. She needs the whole fucking month of December.”
    Daniel stared at him.
    Frank rubbed his hands together, puffing his breath into them. “She’s over the top. She bakes a million different things and insists on giving cookie platters to everyone—old lady Hanson down the street, the people at the design firm, the fucking police station for God’s sake. I come home, and there are cookies everywhere. Shit, I don’t even like cookies.”
    “I’m sure she doesn’t make you eat them.” Daniel looked out the window. The train raced past the frozen trees.
    “No, but I do have to live there. Don’t even get me started. I thought it was bad in our apartment. This is the first Christmas she’s got a whole house to go nuts on. There’s Christmas shit everywhere.”
    “Sounds kinda nice.” Daniel felt melancholy.
    “Don’t get me wrong. She does a really good job. And I’m sure when we have kids they’ll get a real kick out of it. But she overdoes it.” Frank shook his head. “I don’t get it. I don’t see what the big deal is.” He shrugged and closed his eyes.
    Daniel thought about his own house. No visible signs of an impending holiday whatsoever. Justine’s feeling was why go through the work of decorating only to have to take it down in a month. Illogical. He knew she’d eventually hang a wreath on the front door, more for the neighbors than anyone else, and that would be the extent of it. They’d go to her parents’ house, as usual, and come home when it was over and life would be exactly the same.
    Justine had already told Daniel what she wanted for Christmas—a necklace she had not so subtly pointed out in a catalog.
    “And could I please have it before we go to my parents’ house, so I can wear it there and show it off?” she’d asked him.
    “Sure,” he’d answered. Justine was getting him new bookcases for his office as his gift. She’d made him pick them out himself because she had ‘no idea’ what he would want. There was no mystery to it whatsoever.
    Daniel looked over and noticed that Frank was fast asleep. He closed his own eyes, thoughts of Christmas still on his mind.
    As a child Christmas had always been Daniel’s favorite holiday. Coming home from school each day to the glorious smells of cookies and cakes baking, the way the house would transform from ordinary house to winter wonderland of candles and decorations. He’d delighted in the entire experience.
    He’d loved to lie in bed awake in the weeks before Christmas, up close to the window, so he could stare down the street, watching the lights twinkle on the neighbors’ lawns and houses as far as he could see. He’d dream about what Santa might bring him. It was all so magical back then.
    One year, though, he’d quested a little too diligently for his gifts and he’d found them, hidden at the top of his mother’s bedroom closet. He was initially excited, then ashamed and disappointed. He’d ruined his own surprise. His mother never mentioned it,