Page 107 of Mistletoe All the Way

Am I? The right guy for her? A part of me desperately wants to be. A big part of me. But the realist in me—the one who has seen people disappoint each other over and over again—doesn’t want to be someone who might let her down.

“How can I possibly answer that question? I met her the day before Thanksgiving. Barely a month ago.”

He’s undeterred. “When you know, you know.”

I let out a mirthless laugh. “When did you become a romance oracle?”

“Like I said, I’m good at everything.”

“Including singing your own praises,” I say, then check my watch and nod to the dogs. “All right. We’ve got twenty minutes or so. Pretty sure they’re all due for Bordetella shots.”

Doing my job is much easier than thinking about asking Eloise to take a chance on all those miles between us.

35 MANIFEST THIS

Eloise

As I’m maneuvering my bright red truck into a parking spot near city hall, just a few buildings down from the pet shop, my grandma calls. “Darling, did you make it to Whiskers and Kisses yet?”

“As a matter of fact, I just pulled up.”

“Oh thank god. I need a pair of reindeer antlers for Henry’s costume for the awkward family photos. I know they have them there for big dogs. By my estimate he’d need an extra-large. Like for a mastiff. Do you mind terribly?”

“There’s enough pie for everyone.” I repeat what Henry said to us earlier.

She laughs, and it sounds like a sophisticated chime. “So true. Kind of funny how we’re both rooting for our beaus.”

My heart squeezes at that old-fashioned word. I wish Noah were my beau.

“We are,” I say, and in my head I add for now.

Since that’s all this fling with Noah can be. I say goodbye, then dart into the shop for the second time today.

“You can’t resist my store,” the owner, Iman, teases.

“I believe my track record buying cat toys proves that,” I say, then swap the sweater, and grab the extra-large headband. Once outside again, I bundle my coat and scarf tighter, briefly wishing I had Noah’s sweatshirt to keep me warm. Not now, just… in general. It was nice and cozy. Maybe I can borrow it these last few nights.

As I walk to my truck, a storm cloud descends with the reminder that time is running out. He’s leaving soon, but when? Will he even stay for Christmas Day?

My shoulders tighten. I should ask him. Truly, I should. I’ll do it tonight. For now, I try to refocus my thoughts to bright and cheery ones. Like the fact that I reached out to Coretta at the Christmas tree farm earlier today with a pitch to host bonfire nights in the winter. But because I can’t stop devising ideas, I also suggested that she do a last-minute trees-for-the-town offering and donate some fresh-cut ones to the fire station, the hospital, and the senior center.

She said she’d get back to me soon and my fingers are crossed.

Even if I don’t win the Evergreen Falls tourism contract, at least I’ve snagged the attention of other popular local businesses. There will be more, I tell myself. City hall’s just ahead of me, and I picture popping in there in the new year, showing the mayor what I’m working on for the town’s tourism publicity. Manifesting, and all.

But wait.

I definitely didn’t manifest that. I stop dead in my tracks.

Are my eyes playing tricks on me or is that Stephen in there? There’s the dark hair, his familiar lope, but no Santa hat. He usually wears it when he’s around town. I peer through the glass doors, and that’s definitely him striding down the corridor of the old building.

Where’s he going? I squint at the directory right inside the doorway. The courthouse? Parks and rec? Public services? Hmm. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

I look behind me. The block’s mostly empty. I look inside again. He’s nearly down the hall. He might see me, but I’ll improvise if he does—

I’m picking up a copy of my birth certificate. I don’t think Stephen knows I moved here when I was seven.

I’m reserving a park for an event.