I couldn’t find a vase (other than the ones in my front room), so I filled a pitcher with water and arranged the flowers in it. When I came back out Nicholas was examining a picture on my wall of me with my sister.

“Is this your sister?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“What’s her name?”

“Cosette.”

“As in Les Misérables?”

“Yes. My father liked the book. Shall we go?”

“Sure,” he said. Then added, “You look nice.”

“Thank you. So do you.” He was dressed casually in a dark green knit sweater that was a little wet on the shoulders from falling snow. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of a suit.”

“It’s rare, but I do dress down on occasion.”

I took his hand as we walked down the stairs. His car was parked out front, a white BMW sedan. He held the door open for me as I got in. The interior was immaculate and smelled like cinnamon. The seats and doors were two-toned leather, embossed like a football. He shut the door, then went around and climbed in.

“You have a nice car.”

“Thank you. I just got it a few months ago. The dealer said it’s good in snow. I hope he’s right. I turned your seat warmer on. If it’s too hot you can adjust it.”

“Thanks.”

He started the car. The heater and the windshield wipers came on simultaneously, along with a Michael Bublé Christmas album. “Is this music okay?”

“I love Bublé,” I said.

“Then Bublé you will have.”

“It smells good in here,” I said.

“You smell good. What is it? Lovely?”

“How in the world did you know that?”

“My paralegal wears it.” He pulled a U-turn, then drove out of my complex. “Thanks again for going to this with me. I’ve wanted to do this for a while.”

“It’s my pleasure,” I said. “I told Cathy where we were going, and she said she loves it. Her family goes every year.”

“Who’s Cathy?”

“Sorry, she’s our bookkeeper.”

“Are all of your friends from work?”

I frowned, embarrassed by the question. “Yes.”

He glanced over. “It happens. All my friends are lawyers. Except you.”

Something about how he had said that made me glad. “Tell me about this play,” I said.

“Hale Centre Theatre. They’ve been doing this for a long time. I’m kind of a sap when it comes to Christmas. I watch A Christmas Carol on TV at least twice every holiday season. My favorite television version is the one with George C. Scott.”

“Me too,” I said. “I mean, that’s my favorite version too.”

The Hale Centre Theatre was located on the west side of the valley, about fifteen minutes from my apartment. The place was crowded. We picked up our tickets at Will Call, then Nicholas asked, “Would you like a drink or a snack?”