Page 63 of The Wedding Forecast

‘I think it’s all in the lighting.’

Mac slides into the booth beside us. He chooses to slide next to Hayley. I try not to notice. But I do.

‘Good morning,’ he says.

‘What is that?’ I say. He is wearing a grey knit jumper with a row of white reindeer embroidered across the front.

‘My Christmas jumper,’ he says. ‘Well, sweater, to be culturally correct.’

‘Wow. You don’t seem like a Christmas-jumper person,’ I say.

‘It’s part of your ultimate New York Christmas experience.’

He should not look so attractive in a reindeer-themed knit. But he does. Or maybe my sad, scrambled, jet-lagged brain just finds him appealing in anything.

‘You two are going to have the best day,’ Hayley says.

‘Now I’ve seen the jumper, I think we are,’ I say.

We give Mac some of our extra bacon, and we chat, and suddenly it feels nice. The pressure is off. I can be a big touristy Australian dork and get excited about snow and department stores and eating pretzels on the street. And if sex is off the table, I can really lean into the food. Bring on the bloat. I am starting off strong with bacon and black coffee. And I am wearing my most comfortable sneakers, my oversized puffer jacket, my ridiculous hat. And he’s in themed knitwear. No one is trying to seduce anyone here.

Hayley heads off to her conference and I turn to Mac.

‘Do you have an itinerary?’

‘I have ideas.’

‘Close enough. Let’s hear them.’

‘Well, it snowed so we should go and see Central Park covered in snow. Or we could look at Christmas windows. Or go to bookstores downtown. Or the Met.’

‘Can we do all of that?’

‘Yes.’

‘Let’s start with the snow.’

I don’t realise how big Central Park is until we get there. We walk and talk, and I keep marvelling at the snow.

‘This is my first white Christmas.’ I don’t ski or snowboard, so I’ve barely ever had the occasion even to see snow at home.

‘Mine too,’ he says.

‘Really?’

‘It didn’t snow here last year, and every year before that I’ve been in LA.’

‘Oh wow. No wonder you brought out the reindeer jumper.’

‘I am doing the hard work of upholding the Christmas spirit today.’

‘Hey! My scarf is green! And you have no idea what I have on under this coat.’ This feels too flirty, and I immediately regret saying it.

‘What do you have on under the coat?’ he asks, straight-faced, but I sense he is leaning into the flirty. No. Not allowed. He can’t reject me last night and then turn around and be cute today.

‘Nothing. I mean, nothing Christmassy. I’m wearing three thermal layers.’

‘Sensible.’