Francesca has returned from the little hotel in Bavaria where Francesca, and before her Francesca’s parents, and before them Francesca’s grandparents, have spent every Christmas since 1963. This year, Francesca’s siblings were all celebrating the Yuletide at the homes of their in-laws, so in the snowy mountains were just Francesca, Francesca’s dear Mama and Papa, and her still-spry Grand-mere and Pepere.
With the neices and nephews elsewhere, Francesca was planning to spend the holidays quietly, attending the Christmas mass, re-reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, sipping rum eggnogg and hot chocolate with teeny tiny marshmallows in it, and pecking at the ever-ubiquitious Spreadsheets of the Office, which is not as bad as it sounds because Francesca has stylish new glasses and knew she would look quite smart in every way, poking studiously at her laptop next to the fireplace and looking superfantastic doing so.
But, just in case, she brought her pair of Flashers by Stuart Weitzman, and her Best boots, and she was very glad because who was at the hotel this year but the very handsome, very single best friend, from the Princeton days, of the owner-manager’s son-in-law?
Though Francesca has much experience with the Italian and French male models, she must admit there is something refreshing and tres charmant about the Princeton boy who grew up in the small town in Nebraska and now works on the Wall Street. Especially when one is in Bavaria for the 35th time, and he is there for the first time, and you are both looking for something to do . . . And he looks simply so adorable in jeans and the turtleneck and the warm, cuddly sweater . . . A Merry Christmas indeed . . .
Francesca will be returning to New York for a little while after the New Year. Will she see the very cute man from Nebraska again? Francesca hopes so. If not, she will find many fish in the sea. The New Year brings so many wonderful possibilities!