Page 11 of Meet Me on Mistletoe Lane

Sam and I sat in front of the living room fireplace, eating our third helping of my Uncle Rick’s famous cannoli. I was just adding a few more to-dos in the notes app on my phone when Jo came in with a plate piled high with meatballs.

“I don’t know how you guys do it,” she said to me as she sat down on the braided rug and crossed her legs.

“Do what?” I asked, mouth full of the whipped ricotta cheese mixture and chocolate chips.

God, these taste like heaven.

“Pay attention to anything when there’s like a million conversations going on at once.” She popped a meatball into her mouth and sighed happily.

Sam stole one off her plate before she could swat his hand away, and then said, “Just think like an oscillating fan, Jo.”

“A what?” she asked.

“An oscillating fan.” He set down his now-empty dessert plate. “You just kinda scan the room like this.” He paused and turned his head slowly to the left. “And then swing it right back. You know, like a fan.”

Jo tried it and stopped midway. “Doesn’t that hurt your neck after a while?”

“Yep,” I chimed in. “Dad used to say it was the reason most Italians, at least in his family, had arthritis in their necks. Too much back-and-forth movement to keep up.”

“That checks out.” Jo rubbed hers and stared at her plate. “Why am I even eating? I’m not hungry.”

Literally, the story of my whole life.

Sam reached for it. “I’ll take it.”

Jo moved the plate away. “I never said I wouldn’t eat it. Just that I forget I should fast before coming here.”

She turned to me and paused mid-bite. “Is it true that your Aunt Sofia had an uncle whose hair turned white overnight?”

“Yep,” I said, picking at one of the stains on the rug. “But it didn’t happen because he ate tainted scallops, like she claims. He probably had an autoimmune disorder. Or at least, that’s what Leo says.” Leo loved going on deep dives with research when the inexplicable happened.

“Interesting.” Jo ate her last two meatballs and then stood. “I’m going to go eavesdrop on Mayor Moore. He’s on his third cup of Eve’s spiked eggnog, so he should start spilling some tea about The Market. Be right back.”

Sam yawned and stretched his legs in front of him. “Mom and Dad were talking today about opening up a farm stand on our property to sell plants and herbs.”

“Instead of The Market?” I set my empty plate down. “Why?”

“Well, if The Market closes or gets turned into something else, they’ll need to sell their stuff somewhere—”

“But you guys live at the edge of town.” I turned to face him. “We wouldn’t see each other—” I stopped and forced a cough at my slipup. “I mean, Nona wouldn’t get to see Gram as much.”

Smooth, G.

The corner of his mouth pulled up ever so slightly. “I said the same thing to them,” he added quickly, rubbing his chin. “But I don’t know what other options we have if it closes.”

“If.” I nudged him. “We can stay positive.” For now.

“I’ll try.” He smiled and then clapped. “You wanna go get a couple bottles of water or something?”

“Sure.”

He stood first and then held out his hand to pull me up, but I must’ve kept my legs crossed for too long because one of my feet had fallen asleep. No sooner had I stood than I stumbled into him.

“Whoa, easy there, Mouse.” His hands quickly found my waist to steady me. “Did you sneak some of Eve’s eggnog, too?” The corner of his mouth inched up in a smirk.

“No. My foot fell asleep.” I tried putting weight on it but only felt thousands of pinpricks. “And ‘Mouse’? Seriously? I have grown since fifth grade, Sam.”

He took a step back, motioning from the top of my head to his chest. “Not much.”