And to prove it, I avoid every single piece of mistletoe all during the party that evening. Carwyn keeps trying to lure me under it, but I resist. Instead, I make the rounds and visit with neighbors. It’s amazing how much you can find to talk about when people suddenly want to talk to you.
Speaking of talking, it’s hard to visit with Carwyn’s dad and not tear up. This kind man doesn’t deserve the future that’s waiting for him.
On the surface, everything looks fine. He stands with hishands in his pockets, a happy smile on his face telling me it’s nice to have me back.
Mrs. Davies joins him. “We’re all happy to have you back, Hailey.”
It feels like a parental blessing to me, and I smile at them both and thank them.
The party winds down. Eventually the last guest leaves, and Carwyn suggests a walk in the snow. It’s a perfect night for it. The air is crisp and the night is clear, the sky a jewel box filled with stars. Colored lights line snowy rooftops, and inflatable Santas wave at us as we walk past.
“I bet you don’t see this in New York,” he says.
“No, but we have the holiday displays on Fifth Avenue and the Rockefeller Christmas tree and the skating rink,” I say. “New York at Christmas is amazing.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing it,” he says. He wants to see New York. There’s proof that everything will work out.
“I wouldn’t mind showing it to you,” I say.
“Still, there’s no place like home,” he adds.
I feel a twinge ofuh-oh. “Home is where your heart is,” I counter.
“Yes, it is,” he agrees, and I decide that I imagined thatuh-oh.
“Is it okay if I come over after the Christmas Eve service?” he asks as we finally circle back toward my parents’ house.
“Absolutely,” I say.
“You still owe me a kiss under the mistletoe.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say.
“I do.”
“How about a kiss in the snow instead?” I suggest.
He smiles. “I guess I could settle for that.”
He slips his arms around me. His body is hard, and his armsare strong. He tastes like peppermint pie and smells like the outdoors. Living a happily-ever-after is so much more satisfying than writing one. I’m filled with holiday happiness.
Once inside the house I float up to my room. I text Ramona that I hope she’s doing great. It’s party season, and I know she’s probably still awake.
Sure enough, she texts back minutes later and assures me that she is and asks how things are going.
Hailey:Perfect.
Ramona:Have you kissed under the mistletoe?
Hailey:No way. Don’t want to ruin things.
Ramona:You won’t. True love can’t be ruined.
I smile. I must find a way to use that phrase in my novel.
My novel.
Suddenly, I’m inspired. I text bye to Ramona, pull out my laptop, and start writing. It’s the best love scene I’ve ever written. I might finish this book by January 3 after all.
