Holiday Romance

The novel traces Molly’s emotional journey from rigidity to openness. At the beginning of the story, she is defined by precision and self-discipline. Her career as a lawyer depends on her ability to plan, anticipate problems, and maintain order. Even in her personal life, she tries to manage every variable, keeping her relationships shallow and predictable to avoid disappointment. Molly says, “I’m so used to being alone now I don’t know if I’ll even like it when I find someone I do want to be with. I’m not sure I know how to bend like that anymore” (36). Molly’s confession reveals how her need to manage every aspect of her life has left her isolated and confused. Her fear that she no longer knows how to “bend” reflects how rigid she’s become in her effort to stay safe from disappointment or loss.

Even her friendship with Andrew, though meaningful, is pushed into the safe, contained, and unthreatening zone. Their annual Christmas flights together are part of a tidy pattern that lets her feel connected without ever risking too much. The snowstorm that derails their plans is not just an external disruption but an emotional intervention—forcing Molly to improvise, rely on instinct, and ultimately depend on someone else. Throughout the novel, Walsh asserts that real fulfillment requires the willingness to let go of control and allow others in. When Molly eventually acts on her feelings for Andrew and begins to rethink her career, she starts practicing this surrender, learning that intimacy and happiness come not from control, but from trust and emotional openness.

Andrew is a gentle yet consistent force, encouraging Molly to loosen her grip on life. He offers her a glimpse of what life could feel like if she stopped striving to manage every outcome. When he says, “it’s easy to take the leap. To quit your job, to fall in love. Wanting is the easy part. It’s the hard stuff that comes after” (312-13), his words challenge Molly’s tendency to pigeonhole change as a single, decisive act such as finding instant happiness by simply quitting her job. Andrew’s statement reframes love and fulfillment as choices that must be sustained through effort and uncertainty. His steady presence—guarding the bathroom door at his family’s house, teasing her about his childhood photos, or sitting quietly with her in the hospital waiting room—shows how small acts of care become lessons in surrender. The unexpected travel chaos and extra time with Andrew force her to rely on instinct rather than plan. She begins to see how much of her life has been about holding back, protecting herself from messiness.

This loss of control, though uncomfortable, becomes freeing. It allows Molly to act from feeling rather than obligation, to trust rather than predict. Molly learns that control can’t keep her safe; it only keeps her stuck. When she finally lets go, she experiences relief rather than fear. Relinquishing control doesn’t lead to collapse but creates space for something real to grow. The things she once tried to control begin to thrive once she allows them to unfold naturally. Her journey shows that holding on too tightly can stifle the very joy and connection she craves, while trust, openness, and acceptance breathe life back into everything she loves. By the Epilogue, Molly’s decision to host both families in Chicago—chaotic, unpredictable, and joyous—symbolizes her full transformation from self-protective rigidity to grounded openness.