“So who cares about her?”
“Not me,” Darby said. “That’s for sure.”
“You had enough eggnog?” he asked. “Want to get out of here?”
“Sure. Where to?”
“Thought the new you might like to check out the Christmas lights.”
“I would.”
One neighborhood in particular had always been worth a visit when Darby was growing up, having dubbed itself Candy Cane Lane. For many consecutive Christmases, her parents drove her and her siblings to check it out when they were kids. It had been years since she’d gone to look at Christmas lights because, of course, by the age of fourteen she was simply too cool to be bothered. She wasn’t that cool anymore.
Candy Cane Lane had gotten bigger and grander since she visited it years ago. As they approached, she could hear canned Christmas music playing. A giant twinkling Merry Christmas arch had been erected at the entrance to the housing development, held up by lit plastic candy canes.
“Wow, they’ve gotten serious about this,” Darcy said, taking it in.
“Oh, yeah. Everybody who has kids comes here before Christmas,” said Gregory.
Obviously. Several cars were crawling along in front of them.
Up ahead and down the street, every roofline, bush, and tree sparkled. It looked like a carnival. A man dressed as Santa was handing out candy canes, and Darby rolled down her window and accepted two from him.
“Ho, ho, hope you have a wonderful Christmas,” he said after she thanked him.
“Ho, ho, hope you do too,” she replied. Had she just said that?
“What, no smart-mouth answer?” Gregory teased.
“The new-and-improved me.”
“The old you, found again,” he said. “I’m glad.”
“Me too,” she said.
They checked out houses decked in multicolored jewel lights, and houses with reindeer prancing on their lawns alongside snow globes or elves. Every tree on the street was wrapped with lights—blue, gold, red. Nativities abounded, a good reminder of the reason for the season. And every house sported candy canes somewhere.
“You ready to move to Candy Cane Lane?” Gregory asked when they finally drove off to check out some other neighborhoods.
“No, thanks. That neighborhood has turned into Christmas Coney Island.”
“So, no Christmas lights for you?”
“I didn’t say that. I’d love to have those white icicles dangling from my roof. They’re so pretty when it snows. Of course, first I have to have a house.”
“I have a house,” he said.
What was behind that comment? She wanted there to be something. Even though they’d just reconnected after so many years, she found herself envisioning a life in Eagledale, near her parents and living happily ever after with Gregory.
“You can string icicle lights on it anytime you want,” he continued.
Okay, not quite the same vision she’d had. “You string ’em and I’ll watch,” she said, and he chuckled.
Back at her house, he stopped the car and turned to face her. “Okay, I gotta ask. Are you open to coming back to Eagledale, or am I just getting my hopes up for nothing?”
That confirmed it. She wasn’t the only one with hopes. Merry Christmas!
“I mean, I know it’s not New York,” he said.
