Page 11 of Christmas On Anchor Island

“Of course, I do.” Mia wasn’t a monster. “But she is happy. She has her cottage and her friends and us.”

“And Olaf. I for one hope they make it official.”

Not that Nota was knocking on death’s door, but starting a new marriage now? After more than forty years? Surely not.

But if—and that was a big if—she did, what would that mean for Mia? Would she suddenly be taking care of two people? Or would she not be needed at all? Other than the arthritis that slowed her down, Grandma was generally fit, which meant Mia’s primary job was to be her companion. A woman with a husband didn’t need another companion.

“I just don’t see it happening.”

Lauren tilted her head with a shrug. “You know her better than I do so maybe you’re right, but I’m still pulling for an Olaf proposal.”

Mia held her tongue as the idea rolled through her mind. Last week, Olaf had asked about their plans for Christmas. He’d asked questions like what time were we all going to be there? How did Grandma feel about surprises? Mia had assumed he’d built her a fancy rocking chair or something and would need help getting it into the house.

Maybe the gift wasn’t a rocker but a ring. And what if Grandma said yes? Of course, she’d be happy for them. Beyond happy. But Mia was suddenly thinking about her own future. About a life beyond taking care of Nota. She’d never lived anywhere but back in New Jersey, where she grew up, and here on Anchor Island. Did she want to stay here? Did she want to go someplace new? The possibilities were both daunting and oddly liberating.

“Thanks again for letting me help decorate,” Lauren said as they pulled into Dempsey’s parking lot. “I need to go inside to get my keys. Are you coming in?”

Mia shook her head. “I’m going to head home, but thanks.”

Her future sister-in-law climbed out. “No problem. See you Saturday.”

“See you then.”

Lauren waved before stepping inside, but Mia’s mind was already elsewhere. Part of her said not to get too far ahead. The whole Olaf proposal thing was still only speculation. But another part was picturing a map of the world, imagining all the places she could go. All the art she could explore. Not that she had the budget for the whole world, but there were plenty of places in the US she had yet to see. And even if things stayed the same for now, Mia hadn’t let herself dream about the future nearly enough.

A little dreaming never hurt anything.

* * *

“How much sugarhave these kids had?” Henri whispered to Callie, who bounced Rachel on her hip while Roxanne shoveled cereal oats into her mouth in the high chair between them.

Today was the holiday party at the island daycare center, and Cal had convinced Henri to go with her. Within five minutes of arriving, Henri remembered why she could never work in a daycare center. Bless Helga Stepanovich, who’d provided this service for at least a generation of Anchor Island kids.

“My guess would be twice their weight,” Callie replied.

They stood in the corner of the room watching a dozen three- and four-year-olds run around in a frenzy, playing what was supposed to be a game of pin the tail on the reindeer. A teenager in a makeshift deer costume was doing a terrible job of outrunning her attackers.

“Is that poor girl getting hazard pay?”

Callie laughed. “I doubt it, but I’m going to suggest Helga give her a holiday bonus if she isn’t already.”

Either the kid was no track star or she wanted to let the kids win, because nearly every little one had attached a tail to her backside, each with a painful-looking smack to get their Velcro to stick. As the last little girl added hers to the collection, the game ended and the reindeer was handed a cup of punch and a cookie as her reward. The group was then guided back to the large carpeted area where they each had a mat to sit on. The volume in the room instantly dropped.

“They did that to wear them out, didn’t they?” Henri asked, catching on to Helga’s genius ways.

“Yep.” Callie slid Rachel into the high chair beside Roxanne’s and loaded the tray with dry cereal. “This is not Helga’s first rodeo.”

As the kids worked on their juice boxes, a newcomer arrived with supplies in hand. Henri’s heart skipped a beat when Mia walked in. She was still feeling guilty about how she’d pushed her the other day. What had been the point of apologizing for being a jerk in June if, minutes later, she turned into a jerk all over again?

“Miss Mia is here,” said Helga, causing all the children to spin on their mats. A cacophony of cheers and greetings followed, with one little girl bolting from her mat to charge across the room and wrap herself around Mia’s legs. Mia set her teal-blue toolbox on the floor and hugged the little one back.

“You look positively smitten,” Callie said, startling Henri, who’d forgotten for a second that the rest of the world existed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She cleared her throat and feigned indifference. “I was just surprised to see her here.”

Her cousin wasn’t buying it. “You know that Mia does art with the kids, so don’t pretend you weren’t hoping she’d be here. You wouldn’t have agreed to come otherwise.”

How insulting. “I’m here for Conner, thank you very much.”

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