Then she clicked off her Star-Tac, turned on her kitten-heeled boot and headed up the street. Behind her, traffic started up as the light changed. The carolers struck up “Silver Bells,” and the city sidewalks became busy sidewalks again.

Okay, so it’s Christmas, Elaine told herself, appalled to feel a sudden sting of tears in her eyes. Tears. Not for Byron, she realized. But for yet another dream gone, just like that. It was hard to say goodbye to a dream, hard to close the door on hope.

Elaine squared her shoulders and soldiered on down the avenue. The fact was, she had enormous reserves of self-discipline. She’d been raised to do what was expected of her, and she was extremely good at it. She just had to get through the day. How hard could that be?

She tried to get into the spirit of children laughing, people passing. She saw smile after smile and even made a valiant attempt at smiling herself, but it felt more like gritting her teeth.

Why was Christmas so easy for some people, but so impossible for Elaine? Where had she been when they were passing out Christmas spirit?

She knew where she’d been—in the chill confines of the right boarding school, the right summer camp, the right college. She’d been so busy training herself to do what was expected of her that she’d forgotten to ask herself what the point of all her efforts was.

At the next crosswalk, a woman laden with glossy bags and beribboned parcels shoved herself in Elaine’s way like a barge pushing into port. Elaine bit her lip to keep from making some smart remark, but she couldn’t help scowling. She was later than ever for her lunch, and in no mood. Given her current situation, a slight edge of crankiness was justifiable.

There had been a time, long ago, when the bustle and noise of the season had filled her with a sense of magic. She missed her former self, but had no idea how to revive that breathless, boundless feeling. Clearly Byron was not the answer. Of course, she should have known that from the start, but in spite of all the ways life had disappointed her, deep down, she still had this secret, frisky inner self that wanted to believe in magic.

Someone had a set of real silver bells. She heard them chiming like a windup alarm clock.

A moment later, she found herself confronted by an elf holding out a collection jar with a picture of a grinning orphan. Clenching her teeth, she merely stared straight ahead, pretending she hadn’t seen him. If she didn’t make eye contact, she might be able to shake him off. Elaine was pretty successful at avoiding contact. It had kept her safe for years.