Page 7 of Oh, Christmas Con

“I don’t know…” Maye said. “I’m still a little skeptical of it all. I mean, a platform to promote mental health is enticing, but I wouldn’t want to mislead someone unknowingly or make a mockery of therapy.”

“I hear you,” Jayce said. “I’m throwing around a lot of business lingo here. How about this? How about we just plan to have a follow-up call? Scheduling will be tough because Chris has a very busy movie filming schedule coming up, so you’ll have to send me your availability soon.”

“Wait, what?” Maye said. “I didn’t realize that you wanted Chris to do the show, too. What does offering a psychologist’s perspective have to do with an actor who pretends to be in love with people for a living?”

“That’s the special sauce, Maye! You two were so dynamic and entertaining and—”

“No,” Maye interrupted. “No, no, no. That would completely delegitimize the whole show.”

“Maye…” Tracy’s voice got louder as she took control of the phone. “Maye, I think you should stay open to the idea. I mean, how did you feel after that livestream? I saw you on the screen and I could tell you were enjoying yourself. Tell me it wasn’t fun.”

Maye was quiet as she replayed the final moments of the event in her mind. She had felt pretty good afterwards.

“And I do think you could use a distraction right about now,” Tracy added.

“And how about this?” Jayce said, reclaiming the phone. “How about an Associate Producer credit on the project? That way you will have a say in the direction of the show.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Maye said.

“And how about a research team?” Jayce added. “A research team to ensure we can fact-check all the psychology stuff you talk about?”

“Can you really promise that?” Maye asked.

“Well…” Jayce paused. “How about an intern to double-check the statistics? Picture it. You and Chris, going back and forth about relationship dynamics and situations in movies and real life, using experience from his life as an actor and yours as a psychologist. That’s what we want!”

The post-livestream rush was wearing off and Maye’s defensive walls were building back up. “I’m afraid this just isn’t right for me,” she said. “I’m not even sure I understand what this show would be.” But she knew exactly what she was doing. She had done this to herself for as long as she could remember. She needed to isolate and protect herself from a vulnerable situation. Visions of long bus rides and late-night hotel check-ins flooded her memory.

“No, I don’t think it’s for me,” Maye said. Sorry to waste your time, Jayce.”

“Well, I am going to text myself from your cousin’s phone. That way, if you have any more questions or you change your mind, you can get in touch. Thanks for your time, Maye.”

Maye ended the call and placed her phone down on the dining table next to the empty bags from Mangia. There were still clothes all over the hallway, and the dirty dishes were still there. She closed her eyes and ran back through what had happened the night before. A Friday that started out so ordinary but ended so unexpectedly.

- 2 -

In the Grass with Randy

Friday Afternoon

Maye shut her office door after the last appointment of the week and opened the app on her phone for the local Italian restaurant, Mangia. She jumped right to her saved orders, just as she did around this time every Friday afternoon, and tapped the Order Again button. She was so consistent with her order she could probably just show up at Mangia after work and they’d have her food ready for her even if she hadn’t placed the order ahead of time. Chicken parmesan with ziti and extra sauce on the side, and chicken and broccoli Alfredo. “Ooh,” Maye said aloud when she realized she had earned enough points to order a free order of garlic bread. Just after she tapped the Place Order button, her phone dinged with a new text message from her cousin.

TRACY:

Just stopped for dinner. Making really good time. Call you when I get there. Xo

Maye called her back as she packed up her work bag.

“Hey Maye,” Tracy answered. “I wasn’t sure if you were done work yet.”

“Hey!” Maye shouted. “I just got your text! It’s so good to hear from you! How’s it going? Are you having fun? How’s traffic? I just ordered dinner, too! So we’ve both got food on our minds.”

“Yeah? Is it pasta night again already?” Tracy said.

“I can literally hear the smile on your face through the phone, Tracy. Where are you stopping? Burgers? Tacos? Seafood?”

“Um…let’s see…” Maye heard what sounded like a number of plastic packages shuffling in the background. “I got a Honey Bun, Slim Jims, um…Bugles, and oh! A Pickle in a Pouch. Have you tried these? They’re amaz—”

“Tracy Lee McBrandon,” Maye said flatly.