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“Oh. Right.” I’d forgotten all about him. “Yeah, I’ll let you know how that goes.”

“We want every detail.” Oscar winks, which would have made me quiver in my Rudolph sweater just days ago but now only makes me cringe.

After a few more quick goodbyes we head out through the doors to the warm July air. It’s just past dinnertime, and still so warm, but a darkened sky above and the faint smell of petrichor warns of rain. Without words, and a fair bit of tension, we climb into Mariah’s car and she begins driving back to our cabin.

I’m not sure why there’s this strange feeling of angst between us when everything was perfect this morning. I’m not one to leave things alone. I’ll pick at a scab until it bleeds rather than sit idle—that’s the only way to see what’s going on under the surface.

“Mariah.” I fiddle with the loose strands of my sweater. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

She continues looking out the windshield, her emotions masked.

I reach over and grip her thigh, trying to get her to look at me. “Hey. It’s me. You can talk to me. Please tell me what’s bothering you.”

Her stoic expression wobbles ever so slightly. “I’m happy for you. But I just... I can’t work on another movie with you. Not like this.”

My throat constricts. “Like, as lovers?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” She takes my hand in hers, giving my fingers a squeeze. “I can’t... I don’t like doing this kind of makeup. I don’t want to work on another Christmas movie.”

“What’s wrong with Christmas movies?” I can’t help the bit of venom that drips into my voice.

“Nothing! Nothing, I—”

“You’re too good for them or something?”

“No.” She furrows her brow.

“I know they’re not that fancy, and they don’t have the best budgets, and I know they’re kind of predictable, but that’s what people love about them. They’re guaranteed something simple and sweet that will warm their heart. Sometimes in life you need predictability, especially when the world is a dumpster fire, or maybe if there’s stuff going on in your life that’s complex. We bring joy to lots of people, and—”

“That’s not what I meant,” she cuts me off.

“Then whatdoyou mean?”

“It’s just not the type of makeup I want to work on. No offence to Christmas movies, or to you or the set we’re working on. Don’t take it like that, please.”

I take a breath to let her words sink in, unclenching my fists and lowering my hackles. “Okay. But it’s a job, isn’t it? I know it’s not what you have planned long-term but until something else comes along, why not? I mean—”

“Something elsehascome along.” Mariah continues staring out the windshield.

I pause. “What? When?”

Finally, she glances at me as she lane checks. “I got a message on TikTok from that video that went viral. A company from LA may want me to come work for them. They specialize in sci-fi and horror films with makeup, costumes, and special effects done the old-fashioned way, with limited CGI. It’s not set in stone yet, but it sounds promising.”

“But you haven’t signed anything?”

“No.”

“So it could not happen?”

“No, but—”

“So you might not go to LA? If you don’t get the offer you could come up to Whistler with me?”

Her jaw clenches. “I’m not going to do that.”

“What? Why not? If they don’t have anything for you then you could at least stay in the industry. I thought—”

“It’s not what I want,” Mariah says, slow and clear. “When they contacted me it made me realize how badly I want to work on those types of films and how little I’ve really chased that dream. I think I have to try and make a go of it down there. LA is where all the work is for movies that I like. I’m too inexperienced for most films to hire me from another country. But if I’m local, they might.”