From a prompt by little-nicky-miller on Tumblr

It was my 32nd year of being single. The 32nd holiday season I had spent alone: the uncoupled one at the Christmas table - the one with no one to kiss when the clock struck 12 on New Year's Eve. Okay, so maybe that's a slight exaggeration. I'd dated of course. Yes, there had been boyfriends that were around during the holidays (memories of Spencer's macrobiotic Christmas dinner still haunted me). Still, officially, I was a spinster - I'd never had that commitment, that – well, ring.

My mom's turkey curry buffet was not my first choice of venue to spend the 26th – my head was still pounding somewhat from Christmas Day drinks with my only remaining single friend, Cece. But the sad truth was an afternoon surrounded by relatives who constantly asked when I was getting married and called me, 'the poor single one', was actually superior to any other option I realistically had.

So that afternoon I lurked in the corner of my mom's living room, between the thick velvet curtains and the alcohol cabinet, with a cool glass of rose. Here I was able to become quietly tipsy without listening to the usual questions and platitudes given to any single girl in her thirties on these occasions, 'are you dating anyone?', 'they will come along when you least expect it' or 'don't worry, my cousin/neighbor/friend had kids when she was 40'. Not helpful.

Sipping my wine, I watched with amusement as my Uncle Artie tried to drunkenly grope Mrs. Ryerson from across the street (and her shooing him away before finally giving him a swift kick to the balls after he didn't take the hint) when I heard my mom calling my name, "Oh Jess, Jess, come here darling!"

Groaning, I pulled a tight smile on my face and sighed deeply. My mom was great, really – but I knew she was scheming something. Ever since I had gotten ready and she had made me change out of my preferred black flats, pantyhose and sweater combo into a tight, red dress ('It's the holidays,' she'd said, 'You won't have that figure forever') I knew there was an ulterior motive.

Reluctantly I headed towards her, smoothing the thick red material over my hips as I walked. "Jess," my mom said, grabbing my hand, "You remember Mrs. Miller?" She pointed to a greying, middle-aged woman who stood a few feet away.

"Um, well-"

"Jessica," the other woman said warmly, "I've not seen you in years."

I giggled nervously as Mrs. Miller pulled me into a hug.

"Jess, you remember, the Millers were our neighbors when you were in elementary school. Before they moved to Chicago?"

With dawning realization, memories started to seep into my conscious mind.

"Oh," I began, "Umm ... You lived next door?"

"That's right," the other lady smiled softly, "We moved in '86 - I always missed this place."

Memories of cold glasses of lemonade and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches around the only pool in the neighborhood resurfaced.

"Didn't you have a-"

"A son," my mom interrupted, giving me a raised eyebrow look, "Nick – remember? You used to swim naked in his pool as a kid."

"Well I don't remember that part," I blushed furiously, turning the same crimson color as my dress.

"And," my mom said in an excited whisper, "Guess what? He lives in LA."

So that was who she was trying to set me up with. My chest heaved a little. Memories of the last three guys my mother had tried to get me to date resurfaced and I felt a shiver run down my spine. Mike the orthodontist who spat every time he talked; Sam - who worked with my mom and spent the entire date talking about his pet cat; and Jerry, who at 38 still lived in his parents basement. No thanks, Mom.

"Small world," I replied through a tight lipped smile.

"Look," Mrs. Miller said, pointing across the room, "There's my son – by the drinks, as per usual."

I followed her gaze and was met with the sight of a tallish, dark haired man. His back was to me but I could see through his plaid shirt that he had broad shoulders. He wore dark blue jeans that showed off what looked like a pretty cute butt. I smiled a little. Maybe this party won't be so bad after all…

"Nick, Nick," called my mom.

He turned around and I took in a deep breath as I saw his dark eyes and stubbled skin – my stomach hitched a little. He was just my type. Sort of like a dirty sailor, dark and rumpled and a little crinkly around the edges. Definitely a good start. Yes, the front is as good as the back.

"Who's this?" he asked abruptly as he reached our little group, taking a quick swig from a brown beer bottle.

"It's Jess, my daughter - remember?" my mom prodded.

"Hmm," he grunted, pulling down the corners of his mouth into an extreme frown – like a grumpy turtle. He glanced up and down my body slowly. It felt like he was mentally undressing me and I crossed my arms a little as if to protect myself from his gaze. "Jess," he nodded. "From next door? Sorry, don't remember." He cooly took another drink from his beer as I felt a hot flush of embarrassment.

"You both live in LA," continued Mrs. Miller, "Isn't that a coincidence?"

He shrugged his shoulders a little and rolled his lips between his teeth, "It's a big city - right, Jen?"

He looked straight at me with his silky brown eyes and I felt indignant and annoyed. He was proving every that I thought about men to be true - they were either weirdo's, jerks or worse - both.

"Jess," I replied sharply, "And yes, thankfully LA is a very large city." I sank back the rest of my glass of wine and made to leave, "Nice to meet you, Mick."

"Nick," he corrected in a ridiculously low and gravelly voice which did strange things to my stomach.

"Whatever," I smiled.

I was back in my corner a few minutes later, brooding over a fresh glass of wine, when I saw him appear at the table to my left and reach for another beer. I sank further back into the soft folds of the curtain; I couldn't be seen but could still hear.

"Mom, I told you to stop setting me up!"

"What? What do you mean?" I heard the soft voice of Mrs. Miller protesting her innocence.

"You know exactly what I mean. That girl? Jess? Really?"

"Nicky, it's been almost a year since you and Caroline…Jess is pretty and single and lives in the same city as you-"

I heard him sigh heavily, "Yes mom, it has been a while but I don't need setting up with some desperate, ex-neighbor who wears slutty dresses to her mom's holiday party."

At that moment, I felt my glass slip through my hands in shock, bouncing on the carpet and rolling towards him – how dare he? Seconds later, the curtain was pulled back and Nick Miller's face appeared inches from my own.

"Um, oh-" he stuttered for words, his brow creased. "Jessica," he mumbled, his face turning a pinkish red shade.

"Oh, don't mind me - just here minding my own business. So nice to meet you, Nick - but now my slutty dress and I are going to the kitchen to crack open another bottle of wine."

And with that, I picked up my fallen glass, straightened myself up and did my best tall headed walk out of the room.

"Mrs. Miller," I nodded and smiled as I walked away, happily watching her sharply dig her elbow into her son's side.

Men, I thought, why do I bother?