Just Add Mistletoe: Christmas in Gingerbread, Colorado Read online

  Nick sags as if he were defeated, and I wish he wouldn’t see it that way. “Okay.”

  A flare of hope goes off in me, but I’m slow to get happy. “Okay? As in you’re okay with this?”

  “Yes.” He slaps the back of his neck. “I’m going to live.” His frown slowly morphs into the idea of a smile. “So if she says yes, you’re legally going to be family.” He comes over and slaps me on the back. “You’ve always felt like family to me, man.”

  “Same here.” I give him a light sock to the arm. “Thanks for not giving me a black eye.”

  “I’m saving that for Christmas morning, sweetheart.”

  I belt out a laugh. “If you tell me where your sister is, I might just let you.”

  “She’s at Holly’s.” He shakes his head. “I’ll save the black eye for some other time. So, how’s this supposed to work? You think Missy will close up shop and move to New York with you? On second thought, don’t tell me. I don’t want to spoil my Christmas. I’ll take the news when it comes.”

  I slap him five and pull him in. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Good luck, man. You’re going to need it.”

  I jump into my truck and head toward the orchard to pick up Noel. Christmas is in less than a few hours. My flight for New York leaves first thing the next morning. My stomach grinds for a moment. How exactly is this going to work? And then, it hits me.

  New York feels like a lifetime away. I don’t know that I’m ever going back.

  I know I’m not.

  A thought comes to me. I think there’s one more stop I need to make before I pick up Noel. And I’m going to need my checkbook for this one.

  A Holly Jolly Christmas

  Missy

  Christmas morning never seems to lose its magic. Despite the heartache, the heartbreak I’ve endured, not to mention the tears I’ve shed—enough to soak a pillow. I still woke up with a sense of Christmas wonder.

  Last night after I left the community center, I came straight to Holly’s. Sure, there were other options, but staying with my brother might put me in a prime position for enduring a lengthy lecture about dating any of his friends. Nick has warned me on the topic for years and, ironically, I always assured him that his bevy of buddies were all safe from my hit list. And for the most part, they were because I knew that the only one of his friends that ever caught my eye was Graham Holiday. And as fate and geography would have it—he was in New York City, a safe distance from me and my dating net. Not to mention the fact he was beyond egotistical, and completely obnoxious to be around. We had fun bantering with one another, but as the years went by, I found him equally annoying as I did attractive. Case in point, my strong desire to pair him with an equally annoying person whom I was forced to grow up with, Sabrina. But I digress. Of course, I could have gone to my mother’s last night, but she would have run me out of the house with her incessant sobbing. She loves Graham almost as much as I do. Any tears I might have shed last night I know that my mother shed at least a dozen more if not a hundred. Nope, my mother was not an option. And to be perfectly honest, I would do my best to avoid seeing her altogether today if it wasn’t Christmas. So it had to be Holly’s. I used my spare key and sent her a text once I arrived so that Tom wouldn’t be moved to chase me around the Christmas tree with a wiffle ball bat in the event they thought I was a burglar. It would be just my luck to end up on the losing end of a plastic bat and have my head split open like a piñata.

  Holly and I managed to wake up before the crack of dawn, and before we can hit the bottom of the stairs, Savanah’s door creaks open.

  “Tom?” Holly belts, no bothering to savor the virginal quiet still thick in the air. “She’s up!”

  And just like that, her door yawns open, the sound of an eager child’s feet pattering along the hardwood floors head in this direction, and both Holly and I wisely get out of the way.

  “Merry Christmas!” Holly and I sing in unison as an exuberant Savy and a zombie like Tom burst into the living room.

  “Mommy!” Savanah screams at the top of her lungs once she sees the oversized gingerbread dollhouse with a big red bow on it. Holly and Tom hauled it in from the garage after Savanah went to bed. I told them it was a good thing it was only in there for a few hours or they would have played host to every mouse on this mountaintop. I know this for a fact because our gingerbread happens to be that good.

  “It’s all yours, honey.” Holly scoops Savanah into a deep embrace before Savy makes the rounds to Tom and me as well.

  “I love you.” I dot her nose with a kiss. “Merry Christmas, baby girl. Now, get in there and open those presents!” An entire tower of shiny red and green boxes all wait for her to tackle them. Holly has made it a tradition to take the tiny gifts and wrap them in giant boxes in order to give the gift of volume as well. Each one of those boxes is lighter than air. I told her she’d have to start weighing them down with bricks if she really wants to throw her off. And Savy never seems to mind when she opens a box large enough to house a refrigerator, only to find a shiny new hairbrush inside because she’s that easygoing. Mom says that a first child is always easygoing, and that’s how nature tricks you into having another one. I say well-played, nature, well-played.

  Tom and Holly settle on the sofa while I make a quick cup of coffee for the three of us. Savanah takes her time opening her gifts, one by one, playing with each toy for at least twenty minutes before moving on to the next.

  “I’ve never seen a child with more patience in all my life,” I whisper, and Tom belts out a laugh.

  “She sure didn’t get it from either of you. I’m pretty sure she got that from my side of the family.”

  Holly gifts him an elbow in the gut. “You wish. I was born patient. I had to grow up with this one, remember?”

  “Hey!” I give Holly’s foot a quick kick. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m the one that waited three years for—”

  Holly holds up a hand, cutting me off. “The Tooth Fairy to bring you money for your front tooth. I know. We’ve all heard that story a million times. And it’s not true, by the way.”

  “It is, too!” I kick her foot again, this time with a little Christmas spirit behind it. Each time this story surfaces to light, Holly insists on trying to debunk my version of it. I’d swear on a stack of Bibles that every word was true, and I might just do that to prove a point—on Christmas no less.

  “It’s not true because the Tooth Fairy happened to show up on the right night.” She says Tooth Fairy in air quotes. “I just happened to wake up before you that morning.”

  I suck in a sharp breath at the implication.

  “Holly!” I shout so loud Savy glances over for less than a microsecond, the longest she’s paid attention to any of us since she began her unwrapping quest. “That’s terrible! You had me thinking I was being jilted by the most coveted fairy of them all for the better part of half a decade.”

  “I couldn’t help it. I was eight. Besides, I copped to Mom. I tried to convince her to give you another quarter, but she wouldn’t budge. She said it would be a good lesson for me to learn by doing it myself.”

  “Hold the phone.” I try to digest those words she slid by in the middle of her confessional. “You mean, I only got one lousy quarter for an eye tooth? I’ve always suspected the Tooth Fairy was cheap. So, what made you give it back, years later?”

  “I didn’t. A quarter must have rolled out of your jeans while you were sitting in bed and miraculously landed under your pillow. And the next morning when you woke up, I knew I was officially off the hook.”

  “You little stinker.” I sniff into my coffee before taking a nice long swig. Tom laughs up a storm as if it were the funniest thing ever, and boy, is Holly ever lucky she found someone who finds her entertaining. “I wouldn’t laugh if I were you,” I’m quick to tell him. “I had to live with her for eighteen years, but you’re stuck with her for life.”

  And just like that, the laughter ceases.

&nb
sp; My phone bleats from deep within my purse, and I eye it as it sits on the coffee table. I purposefully didn’t bother taking my phone up to the guest room with me last night. Once I let Nick and my mother know where I was headed, I figured all the really important people were taken care of. Noel comes to mind, and my heart hurts. How I wanted to spend our first Christmas together. Graham comes to mind, and my heart hurts ten times harder. How I really wanted to spend our first Christmas together, too. Technically, Graham and I have spent many Christmases together, but never as a couple. And that’s honestly what I thought we were. Instead, we were a couple of morons. How could I have believed that Graham Holiday and I could have ever worked out?

  I try my hardest to sniff back tears, but they just keep on coming.

  “Oh, honey!” Holly wraps her arms around me tight. Savy turns around, and her joy melts into confusion. My heart sinks at the thought of dragging all of my shattered-heart drama into their living room, on this day of all days.

  “Why is Auntie sad?” She scoots toward us on her knees midway through unwrapping a gift from my mother. All of the gifts from my mother are wrapped in a bright magenta foil this year. At first, I thought it was an obnoxious color that would cause bouts of blindness and delirium on Christmas morning, but with the lights from the Christmas tree softening it, the packages look almost magical. My mother always seems to know best. Just like she knew best when she spurred me to the idea to incorporate designer ingredients into those otherwise boring pies. A part of me wishes my mother were here to hold me just the way Holly is holding me now.

  “Auntie’s not sad!” Holly infuses her statement with as much enthusiasm as possible. Holly really would have made a great actress. She took every drama class Gingerbread High had to offer, all four years in a row. And a good thing, too, because with me as a sister, those are practically life skills for her. “She’s just so happy to see you opening up your presents. Go on, open—open!” As soon as Savy turns away, Holly leans in and whispers, “See what you made me do? You made me lie to my only child on Christmas!”

  I can’t help but sputter a tiny laugh. “It’s not a lie. I am more than happy to see her open her gifts.” But Savanah is right. I’m beyond sad at the moment. Everything seemed to be going so great, and now everything is going so wrong—and on Christmas of all days! Oh, why couldn’t it have been some silly holiday that I don’t care about like Arbor Day? Leave it to Sabrina to rain down her wrath on the holiest day of the year.

  My phone bleats again, then again, and before long the pinging sound is coming from another location. My sister reaches behind her and plucks her phone from the sofa table. “It’s Mom.” Her lids lower as if she were afraid to say what comes next. “She says we’re all invited to the Holidays’ for dinner.”

  “No way, no how.” I shake my head emphatically. “The three of you go right ahead. I’ll stay here and guard the loot in the event any Christmas thieves try to make the rounds.”

  Holly bucks with a laugh. “You know we have never had a single theft on Christmas night in Gingerbread.”

  Tom lifts a finger. “Try ever.”

  “See?” She chortles at the idea once again. “I assure you that the toy store Santa dropped off for Savanah is safe and sound. You’re coming with us.”

  “Give me one good reason why.” I stare hard at my sister with that joyous look on her face. Sure, it’s Christmas, but couldn’t she show a little anger-fueled solidarity with me? Generally, when I’m in the dumps, Holly is kind enough to join me. The least she could do is hone in on those acting skills once again.

  She leans in, her warm hand finding a home on my arm. “Remember last night when I came home I knocked on your door and said there was something important I had to tell you?”

  “Yes.” I tilt my head to the side, examining that mischievous look on her face. It’s never a good thing when my sister starts to get impish.

  “And you said leave me alone?”

  I give a quick nod. Something tells me I should have gone home and holed up under my own covers. I’m not sure I like where that triumphant look is leading us.

  “Well, I did.” Her shoulders bounce with a shrug. Holly has always been one to take things far too literally.

  “And what does that have to do with anything?”

  Tom leans in, his glasses slipping down his nose. He might be a wonderful optometrist, but he insists he’ll be the last to get laser surgery to correct his vision. He says he loves the look and feel that his wire-rimmed glasses afford. Holly says she doesn’t recognize him half the time when he takes them off.

  “Come on, Holly”—he tips his head my way—“let her off the hook already.”

  “What hook?” A rise of panic fills me. “Am I on a hook?” I scoot away from my sister to get a better look at her.

  Holly giggles into her hands a moment before coming up for air. “You should never have taken off like that last night. You missed the real fireworks.”

  “What happened?” I deadpan so cold and fast Holly’s eyes bug out because I think she realizes I’m going to kill her if she doesn’t spill it quickly. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want Savy witness to a homicide, especially not hers.

  “Okay, okay!” Her fingers flick through the air. “Graham went crazy trying to figure things out, and once he did, he took the stage. He knows that Sabrina was blackmailing you.” Her eyes cut to the floor a moment. “And I know that you refused to admit you loved him because of me.” Her cheeks pinch with color, a sure sign she’s about to cry. She sniffs the air before continuing. “Anyway—he hopped on stage and wrestled the microphone from the lead singer of the band and whistled until he got everyone’s attention.”

  My mouth falls open as I look to Tom. “Did it really happen like that?”

  He pinches his thumb and forefinger together, letting me know indeed she’s embellishing a bit. We both know Holly is famous for her propensity to exaggerate. But right about now, I like the exaggerated direction she’s heading in.

  “And then what happened?” I want to shake the details out of her like a piñata. Now I really wish I did stay so I could have seen it firsthand.

  My sister’s eyes mist up, and her lips pull into a sullen smile. “He said he loved you, Missy. He told the whole town he was in love with Mistletoe Winters.”

  My mouth falls open as I look to Tom, and he nods his head yes.

  “Oh my goodness!” My hands cover my mouth to stifle the scream that’s begging to erupt. “I can’t believe this. Was Sabrina there by chance?”

  They both offer up enthusiastic nods.

  “Oh.” It stings like a slap. I’ve lost the bakery. I blink back tears. I don’t know why this comes as a surprise. We were barreling in this direction for quite some time. “Well, that’s just great.” My voice makes it clear my enthusiasm is sorely lacking.

  I fall back to the sofa as we watch as Savy opens the last of her presents. As soon as Tom and Holly get to exchanging one another’s gifts, I opt to give them some privacy. I kiss Savy over the top of the head and wave as I duck out into the frozen morning air.

  I don’t know where I’m going, but I do know that I’m nowhere near ready to go home yet.

  * * *

  It’s a funny thing, being alone on Christmas. Even with the radio bleating out its cheery Christmas music, the drive around Gingerbread feels more than lonely. Nature decided to bless us with a fresh snowfall overnight, leaving the trees thickly coated and the rooftops with a high loft of batting, sparkling like glitter over every last inch. I drive out to the lake and pause on the side of the road as I marvel at the brilliant blue hue of the water even with the sun doing its best to hide behind the clouds. I don’t think I could ever get tired of seeing the contrast between the snow and the lake. Winter and summer all rolled into one visual for me. It’s a beautiful sight, and I wish I had someone to share it with.

  Memories of the day Graham and I spent here with Noel, building our very first snowman, taking pictures o
f ourselves as a family as if we were actually going to send it out as a Christmas card to friends, surge to the surface. It’s hard to believe it took place just a little over a week ago, and here I am at the lake with nothing but a few pictures on my phone to remind me of how perfect life could be. It was perfect. Even if all Graham and I ever had was that microcosm, it was more love than most people will know in a lifetime.

  I wipe the tears from my eyes as I continue down the road and take a turn onto Bloomwood Road, only to stop the car cold in the exact location where we declared our love to one another. Over the years, Graham and I have shared a lot of sentiment with one another, some of them downright colorful, but never had we even uttered the L word. It all felt so very special. The moonlight washing us with its magic, the twinkle lights on the enormous sleigh we were seated in, the sound of the carolers floating up from a distance. It felt as if we left reality and fell into a Christmas greeting card. It was all so perfect, so magical—deep down, I wondered if it was too good to be true.

  I force myself to drive on and head straight to the end of Main Street with its giant decorated tree, the lights still on and the star on top as bright as ever. This right here is where Graham and I shared a delicious, steamy kiss. I knew when it happened that it was a moment I would remember for the rest of my life. I thought for sure he would, too. Kissing Graham in the middle of town, in front of the tree we grew up venerating year after year felt like a milestone—a blessing.

  My lungs fill with an extra-large breath as I sit mesmerized by the overgrown evergreen. I wonder how it will feel to be here next year looking at this beautiful tree knowing the secrets that it’s harboring? Graham was my first kiss in what feels like forever, but he also delivered the best kiss that I’ve ever had. My body aches as I think of the memory. Holly said he declared his love for me in front of everyone at the community center. Graham loves me, and he made sure to tell every last person in that room, including one too many Jarretts. A fire of both dread and elation rips through me at the thought as I head toward the bakery.