Holiday Movie

Christmas movie


Max picked up one of his two Christmas cards and shook his head. One was from his dentist, and the other from his tax guy. The mantel used to be covered with these things. Why had everybody stopped sending them?

It wasn’t just the cards. It seemed like all that was left of Christmas was a conspiracy—people with families trying to make everyone else wish they had one. It hadn’t always been that way. People used to throw Christmas parties. He’d enjoyed them, both noisy and subdued. But nobody had parties anymore. He’d passed out invitations for one at his place two years ago, and his next door neighbor and one guy from work had showed. They’d stayed maybe an hour.

He’d never been one for church, but a movie might be an idea. Something, anything other than spending Christmas alone at home.

He thought about checking movie times but decided to simply go and watch the best thing playing. Anything to get out of his apartment. His little Christmas tree suddenly seemed pathetic, a meaningless gesture in an uncaring world.

Max shrugged on his leather jacket and unlocked his Honda. He stopped at a burger joint on the way to the theater and took his cheeseburger and fries to the communal dining room. He smiled at the man sitting at the next table as he sat down.

“Merry Christmas.” It was an easy enough conversation starter.

The grizzled man raised his head and regarded him blearily. “What’s merry about it?” he slurred before returning his attention to his fries. With exaggerated care, he dipped one in ketchup.

Max cast his gaze around the room, but everyone’s eyes slid away. Only one older lady smiled at him before she pushed open the door to leave. Max gave the Pakistani gal behind the counter a cheery “Happy Holidays” as he left, but as an exercise in spreading Christmas cheer, it was hardly a resounding success. That place was enough to make him consider swearing off Christmas altogether.

At the theater he bought a ticket to the latest sci-fi flick since the Christmas movie looked irredeemably lame. Then he bought a coffee and a box of M&Ms for the lady in line behind him and received a “Merry Christmas” in return, which was encouraging as far as it went. He scanned the theater carefully before he sat down, but everyone seemed to be chatting with someone else.

The movie was okay. Predictable, but the effects were good. Max dropped his popcorn tub in the trash, visited the men’s room, and then hesitated in the lobby. He had no place to go but back home.

“Would you like some Christmas candy, mister?”

Startled, he turned to see the gal he’d bought the candy for behind him. Maybe a couple of years younger than him, with short brunette hair and a holly-printed scarf tied around her neck. She held out the box of M&Ms and smiled. “They’re really too much for me by myself. Would you like some?”

“Sure.” Max put out his hand, and she filled his palm with brightly colored chocolate. “Do you know why the quality control guy at the factory kept failing the M&Ms?” Ugh. Was that all he could think of? The lamest joke in the world?

But she smiled and said, “Yes, they kept sending him all the W’s. Maybe he just needed a different perspective.”

“Sounds good,” Max admitted. “The quest for Christmas cheer hasn’t been going too well.”

“It’s ironic, isn’t it?” she said. “Social interaction requires a dedicated skill set these days. It used to just happen before. I wanted to thank you for the candy again, though. For the unexpected gift.”

She turned to leave, and Max blurted out, “Would you like to go get some coffee? Uh, that is, if there’s no place else you need to be?”

She smiled. “My name’s Liz, and I’d love a cup of coffee.” They made plans to meet at the diner up the road.

Max chose a table close to the door, which also had an unfortunate view of the clock. He fiddled with his spoon as he waited, stirring the coffee long after the single packet of sugar had dissolved. Did the gal get some strange kick out of leaving people hanging? Max drained his cup and stood with a surge of anger. At least the down-and-out guy at the burger place had been honest.

But just then Liz breezed in, a brightly decorated bag in her hand. “I’m sorry I took so long,” she said. “But I nipped into the drugstore to pick up something for you. Then I realized I had no idea what to buy, and the lady in front of me had to have the entire store dancing attendance while she used a coupon to get her quarter off. I offered to pay the quarter, but that wasn’t the point, apparently.”

Max broke into a grin. “You bought me a Christmas present.”

Liz shrugged. “It’s not much.”

They sat down, and Max laughed when he looked inside his snowflake-covered bag. A prepaid gift card to the theater, a box of microwave popcorn, and Christmas M&Ms. Then he opened a real Christmas card from a real person and smiled as he read the silly reindeer joke. It wasn’t much better than his M&M riddle, but it was just what his mantel needed.

“It’s perfect,” he said, and then he raised his gaze to meet hers. “Maybe we could do it again sometime.”

Liz’s brown eyes sparkled. “What are you doing for New Year’s?”


If you enjoyed “Holiday Movie,” my book Twelve Tales of Christmas contains eleven more. All the links are available here:

Happy reading! 🙂

Avid writer and reader of Faerie tales and noblebright fantasy.

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Posted in My Stories
34 comments on “Holiday Movie
  1. it’s sad but true, social interaction is something that needs skills. i also have three kids, and although i’m not divorced, we’re separated, but the kids stay with me. merry christmas to you.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. babbitman says:

    Love the story – and the fact that it was inspired by a real life lonely Christmas. Glad you’ve got someone to share the snuggly Christmas moments again. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Lovely. Thanks for sharing.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Create Space says:

    What a lovely read Cathleen! Thank you and best wishes.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Loved this story, Cathleen! I really loved your backstory and understand the loneliness you went through after your divorce. It’s amazing how new holiday traditions are born out of adversity. My Christmas to you, my friend!

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Ann Coleman says:

    What a wonderful Christmas story! And you’re so right, it takes so little to reach out and connect with others who may be alone during the holidays. That human connection makes all the difference, and it is more than worth the effort. Merry Christmas!

    Liked by 2 people

  7. Merry Christmas to you as well, Ann. Thanks for the attagirl. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  8. Tina Frisco says:

    Thank you so much for sharing this lovely story, Cathleen. Loneliness can strike the heart and immobilize us. Just meeting someone’s eyes when passing them on the street can be a great gift. Your story brought joy to my heart ♥

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Jennie says:

    Terrific post and story

    Liked by 1 person

  10. That’s a great story, Cathleen, and I liked reading it again, as well as learning the history behind it. I had similar experiences of loneliness/aloneness after a divorce. It makes me appreciate family and friends all the more. Merry Christmas.

    Liked by 3 people

  11. cav12 says:

    Have a lovely Christmas, Cathleen. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Such a beautiful story, Cathleen! Thanks so much for sharing some backstory too… Christmas love and blessings to you every day, dear friend. ❤ xo

    Liked by 2 people

  13. Cathleen: I love this story, and I’m so glad you provided a little background on its genesis. I so appreciate when authors do that!


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