Every year, we hold a school wide competition around the holidays:

Who doesn’t love a good Hallmark holiday movie?  You are a screenwriter for the Hallmark Network.  The holiday season is just around the corner.  The company executives want you to pitch them your best Hallmark Holiday Movie idea.

In keeping with tradition, I am sharing my submission from this year.

Holiday Road Trip

It was Christmas Eve, and Meredith had a long night of driving ahead of her. She loved her architect job in the city, but hated that it was nine hours from her small hometown. Every major holiday or family event meant the same thing: a long trek home, followed by an equally long drive back a couple of days later.

She knew she shouldn’t complain—she was blessed with two healthy parents, plus an older sister and younger brother who made it home when they could. Her sister’s trips were becoming rarer, though; juggling a husband, two kids, another on the way, two dogs, a cat, a hamster… and, honestly, probably a partridge in a pear tree.

But this year, the drive felt heavier. Meredith had recently broken up with her longtime boyfriend, Scott. Her family adored him, and she knew the moment she stepped through her parents’ front door, she’d be met with either a flurry of questions about the breakup or not-so-subtle reminders of how much they missed him. Probably both.

To buy herself some breathing room, Meredith chose the scenic country roads over the highways. It would add an hour to her trip, but she welcomed the extra time to rehearse answers to the inevitable Scott questions—or at least enjoy sixty guaranteed minutes of silence about him.

As she turned onto the first winding backroad, the radio flickered off, then crackled back on. To her dismay, Michael Bublé’s “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” began to play—her and Scott’s favorite holiday song. She leaned down to fiddle with the tuning knob, her eyes leaving the road for just a moment. When she looked up, her stomach dropped: her car was drifting toward the shoulder, where a young man was walking his dog.

Adrenaline surged. She jerked the wheel just in time, her heart pounding as she pulled over to the side of the road, hands shaking.

Before she could even step out, the man was jogging toward her, his dog—a cheerful lab mix—trotting beside him. The dog jumped up at her window, startling a small yelp out of her. The man gently pulled the dog back and tapped on the glass.

“Are you okay?” he asked as she lowered the window.

She blinked, stunned. After nearly hitting him, she had expected anger—shouting, at the very least. But his voice held nothing but concern.

He seemed to mistake her speechlessness for difficulty hearing him; with gloved hands, he tugged off his wool hat, scarf, and gaiter. And that’s when she saw them—bright, sparkling green eyes that seemed to cut straight through the winter dusk.

And, just like that, Meredith’s Christmas Eve took a very unexpected turn.