“I – and more importantly – the internet, disagrees with you, cara. Die Hard is absolutely a Christmas movie. Arguably the most famous.”
Isabella pursed her lips. “I think you’re missing the point of a Christmas movie marathon.”
“Am I?”
“Well, yeah. It’s meant to be movies about Santa and the North Pole and Presents and elves and…I don’t know, uplifting things.”
“Well, John McClane saving the world from terrorists is unpo uplifting, no?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, but in an ordinary action movie kind of way, not a Christmas movie way.”
“I think we will have to agree to disagree.”
“I think you’re right,” she nodded, spooning some ice cream into her mouth straight from the tub.
Isabella got to select the next movie. She chose Home Alone. “It’s a mix of action and Christmas, so there’s something for both of us.”
They laughed at the humorous scenes, and at the end, when Kevin was reunited with his family, Isabella’s eyes misted over. She dashed the tears away, shaking her head. “The first time I saw this movie was when I was about eleven, I think. I loved it so much. His family –,” she shook her head, pausing to gather her thoughts. “They’re exactly what I wanted. I never had an idealised version of family in mind, you know, everyone happy all the time. I imagined families were just like this – busy and loud, chaotic, full of little conflicts and dramas, but ultimately, everything underpinned by love.” She sighed. “Did you love it?”
His eyes were heavy on her face, scanning her tear-moist eyes, and then he nodded. “Isn’t there a sequel?”
Her heart lifted.
“You’re not bored of this yet?”
“Bored?” He frowned. “Why would I be?”
At the end of Home Alone 2, something jagged in her mind. “Turtle Doves!” She jumped up from the sofa and strode into the kitchen. The tree was still twinkling, the lights a soft gold. “Look.” She reached a delicate ceramic bird from the middle of the tree, taking a few steps until she reached its matching pair. “You have a set of Turtle Doves.”
“Si.”
“I’ve never seen them in real life.”
His features were rigid, his eyes unconsciously betraying sympathy. “They are widely available.”
“I guess so. It never occurred to me. Strange, because I love the idea.” She smiled, then lifted the ornament onto the tree, placing it just a few branches below its pair. “You know, they’re not meant to be kept together, though.”
“Like in the movie?” He teased.
“It’s true. The whole thing with turtle dove ornaments is that they’re about friendship. You’re meant to give one away, as a form of connection even when you’re not near one another.”
“I never thought about it,” he said with a casual lift of his shoulders. “Yaya bought a set for each of us, I believe. There’s a village not far from here she used to travel to every October. The Christmas shop did the most delicate ornaments, each of them handmade, glass decorations hand-blown then etched with nativity scenes. She ordered these as we were born, meaning each of our sets is slightly different.”
“Wow.” Not for the first time that day, Isabella felt tears dance on her eyelids. “That’s really beautiful. Your Yaya sounds like someone I’d love to meet.”
“So why don’t you?”
Gabe couldn’t have said who was more surprised by his suggestion: him or Isabella. It was a spontaneous invitation, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. He’d seen what Christmas meant to Isabella, and heard her talk about how much she wanted a family. Well, he couldn’t give her his, but he could at least give her the perfect Christmas with a family just like she’d described – loud, imperfect, and full of love. It had driven him crazy for years. He’d resented them and their intrusiveness, even when he’d known it had come from a place of love, but until he’d met Isabella, he’d never realised how lucky he was to be a thread in such a complex tapestry. It was right that he share that with her, just this one Christmas.
“If the weather holds, we can go to Villa Fortune in the morning.”
Her eyes were impossible to read. He hated not knowing what she thought of the idea.
“It’s stopped snowing,” she agreed after a moment, her voice a little higher in pitch than usual.
“Yesterday.”
She bit down on her lower lip. “I know.”
“I checked the helicopter this morning. It’s sound to fly, so long as the weather holds.”
She looked towards a window. It was dark outside, and for the first time in nights, the sky showed a blanket of stars twinkling overhead, pinpricks of light against a black velvet backdrop.
“But it’s your family Christmas.” She bit down on her lip – a habit she had when she was nervous or searching for words.
“What else are you going to do, Isabella? You have no accommodation booked, and being Christmas, you’d struggle to find anywhere with availability. Come stay with me, and I’ll take you to the airport after Christmas.”
“The airport?”
“So you can go to America as planned,” he reminded her with a quizzical lift of his brow.
“Right, of course, America.” She was parroting him in yet another sign of uncertainty. He expelled a slow breath, trying not to show frustration. Just because he was firmly of the opinion that this was the right course of action didn’t mean she would necessarily agree. He busied himself in the kitchen, collecting coffee cups and dinner plates, carrying them to the sink.
“You could just drop me in Florence,” she said quietly, and every cell in his body rejected that idea. He didn’t want to leave her in some enormous city to spend Christmas alone. Knowing what the holiday meant to her, how could he do that?
“It doesn’t mean anything,” he said, cutting to what he instinctively felt to be at the root of her hesitation. “You don’t need to worry that I’m offering
