Elaine was wracked by guilt, as well as fear. In the frigid night, she was forced to truly see her relationship with Bobbi. They’d made friends for all the wrong reasons—Elaine had “created” a media figure, nothing more. Their friendship had never had any depth or genuine intimacy. It had been, like all of Elaine’s other relationships, a business arrangement.

“I was wrong,” said Elaine. “I was awful to you. Bobbi, please. Think what you will of me, but don’t hurt yourself. For heaven’s sake, it’s Christmas.”

“Another work day, as far as you’re concerned. What’s suddenly so special about Christmas?”

“Well, there’s...” Elaine’s voice trailed off. Suddenly, at the very worst possible moment, she had absolutely no idea what to say.

“There’s what?”

“The Christmas tree,” Elaine said. “What other time of year can you put such a large home fashion accessory in your living room and actually feel good about it?”

“That’s only because you know you’re going to take it down. And if that’s supposed to give me a reason for living, you’ll have to do better. You wouldn’t know the true meaning of Christmas if it slapped you upside the head.”

“Then maybe I’m the one who should be out there on the bridge,” Elaine snapped. She was still terrified, but keeping Bobbi engaged in conversation was at least stopping her from doing a swan dive into the East River. “And I do, too, know the meaning of Christmas. It’s to celebrate the birth of Christ. Everybody knows that.”

“Actually, Christmas is not the birthday of Christ,” Bobbi contradicted her. “He wasn’t born in the middle of winter.”

“How do you know that?”

“Well, for one thing, the sheep were out in the fields. It would have been very cold at night in the hills of Judea, and shepherds in that area never keep sheep in the fields after the end of October.”

“What’s that got to do with—” Elaine shut her mouth.

“Besides,” Bobbi went on, “Herod never would have ordered people to travel to their hometowns for tax registration in the middle of winter.”

“I can believe that,” Elaine said. “Everyone knows you pay taxes in the spring.” This was nuts. She was supposed to be convincing Bobbi of the true meaning of Christmas so she wouldn’t take a flying leap off the bridge. Keep her talking, Elaine told herself. That was the key. “But listen,” she said, “December twenty-fifth is as good a time as any to honor Christmas.”

Bobbi hugged herself against the cold. “Jesus wouldn’t have celebrated his own birthday because it wasn’t a Jewish custom to do so.”