If this were the start of a made-for-TV Christmas movie, I would be running late to catch a train from the city, heading out of town to spend the holidays at an estranged relative’s mountain cabin to finally work on that novel I haven’t been able to finish because of the demands of my vaguely defined newspaper position. After breathlessly arriving at the platform, only to spill my coffee all over an attractive but arrogant stranger — who has his own reasons for being alone over the holidays, we’ll discover — I’d learn that he’s getting off at the same stop as me, and, wait, walking in the same direction to the same so-and-so aunt’s cozy cottage, where a mix-up of dates and destiny will leave us snowed in for a weekend together. But this is not a Christmas love story.