Page 102 of Meet Me on Mistletoe Lane

“Why does everyone take shots at me?” Marco asked innocently, but his smirk told a different story.

After Jo revealed the prizes for the teams that finished the hunt first, she handed me and Sam a few small envelopes each to distribute.

Mr. Bailey tucked his phone away as I handed him an envelope. “You know, I used to write riddles on sticky notes and put them in James’s lunch box,” he said, his eyes bright.

“Really?” I asked, glancing from him to James.

Notes in lunch boxes, a bowling league, singing duets—there was way more to Mr. Bailey than suits and Zoom calls.

We just needed him to see that again.

To remember what mattered most.

James smiled. “He had some good ones. Which is why this will be light work, right, Dad?”

Mr. Bailey gave a quick nod. “Right.”

Maybe there was a shred of hope for this guy and our town after all…

Jo hopped up on the bench again just as the clock tower finished its quarter-after chime. She held up the megaphone. “You may open your first riddle in three…two…one! Go!”

The sounds of ripping paper cut through the cold air and were followed by mumbling. Several people immediately ran off in different directions, but James read their riddle aloud a second time. ‘I may fret, but I never worry, because I have a neck and no head’…”

Mr. Bailey gasped and pointed to the paper. “Look! The F in ‘fret’ and the N in ‘neck’ are capitalized. They must be clues! What’s special about a fret and a neck, though?”

James stared off into the night for a moment longer before realization bloomed on his face. “It’s a guitar! Oh! Chordcrafters!”

“Nice job!” Mr. Bailey patted his son’s back before they bolted across the street together.

It was then that I noticed Mr. Bailey was wearing tennis shoes for the first time since he’d arrived here.

Ha! Someone’s not playing around tonight.

Jo, Sam, and I laughed as James teased his dad for running too slow, but then almost took out the decorative snowman in front of Eve’s Drop.

Jo turned to Sam and me, and asked, “Can you two take a couple laps around town while this is going on? I need to hang here in case people come by with questions, but if you see anyone who looks lost or someone trying to cheat, text me, okay?”

“On it,” Sam said.

On it?

How could he be so casual about it all?

Anytime we were left alone or, God forbid, stood too close together, you could literally cut the tension between us with a broken ornament.

Did he not feel that?

Did he not want to pull on his hair and scream into a pillow because he expected falling for his best friend to be easy and not so freakin’ complicated?

Or is it just me?

Sam had always been familiar and predictable.

But lately he had been anything but.

Was it really too much for a little honesty? Put me out of my misery already? At least then, I could have a good cry, eat a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, and move on before literally moving out of Mullings Creek.

And maybe then I could actually hang out with James and not feel so stupidly guilty about it.