Page 25 of Mishaps and Mistletoe

“Well, from the looks of the rustic woodwork, the generous number of tables and chairs around us, and the floor-to-ceiling windows giving us a gorgeous view of the lake, I’m gonna say we’re at the lodge at Oglebay about to enjoy the ‘meal’ portion of the Merry Mistletoe and a Meal package.”

“Jo,” he whispered, his rounded eyes begging her to shelve the sarcasm for a minute. She wasn’t wrong—this venue was something out of a movie. From the miniature trees sprinkled with tiny white lights to the garland sweeping across the wall of windows, every inch of this place captured the spirit of the holidays. “You don’t have to confide in me anything you don’t want to, but you can. We’re friends, right?” Heaven knew he’d dumped enough about his childhood woes on her when they were teens. But she was so easy to talk to back then. Still was. He only wished he could return the favor, hoped whatever he’d say in response would be the right thing.

“This was our drink—mine and Courtney’s. We had an Old-Fashioned every year when we decorated the tree.” She lifted the glass off the table an inch, swirling it as she watched the ice cubes catch in the tiny whirlpool she’d created. “We’ll never do that again—drink cocktails and trim the tree. I mean, of course, we won’t. We haven’t for a few years now.” She paused only briefly enough to take a small sip of the beverage, wincing slightly as she swallowed. “I’ve made zero progress on this pitch to keep my job, and I just—I just…”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Why what is?”

“You said you haven’t made any progress—why do you think that is?”

She set the glass on the table and used both arms to wrap around her middle. “I don’t know.” Her gaze trailed off to the right, out the vast windows that gave way to the expansive illuminated displays that adorned the massive hillside. He paused, sensing she had more to say. And even if she didn’t, the glow of the Christmas lights in the distance that reflected in her deep green eyes hypnotized him enough to keep his brain from forming a coherent thought. “I just wish I could spend one more Christmas with my sister.”

“What if you could? What would you do with Courtney?” He was grasping at straws here, his fear of saying the wrong thing nearly paralyzing him.

“Gosh, we’d get a tree, bake cookies, ride the trolley here, and see all the light displays.” Her dull eyes twinkled, and it warmed something in his chest. Maybe he actually was good at this, getting people to confide in him. “We’d get these ridiculous, totally outlandish holiday socks to wear on Christmas morning—like ugly Christmas sweaters, but for your feet. We could never get my dad on board with the family pajama idea, so this was a fair compromise.”

“Ah. The Colonel drew the line at matching PJs?”

Josie laughed, and it was a song merrier than the music sounding from the restaurant’s speakers. “Yep. But we still love him.”

“That was apparent from the forward you wrote for his book.”

Her head drew back. “You read my father’s book?”

“Uh, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I saw it in a bookstore's window, so I picked up the audiobook to listen to during my workouts.” He’d known of the book when it hit the NYT Bestsellers list for its first week. While everyone else clamored to bookstores to read the story of a great American war hero, he’d picked it up to see if it showed what his daughters were up to these days. Well, one in particular.

“It was such a rollercoaster. One week, he was on top of the world with nationally syndicated talk shows inviting him to New York and LA, and the next week, Courtney was gone.” Josie pressed both palms on the table and raised her chin, making visible her long, delicate neck. But she was anything but delicate in this moment, and Kevin knew better than to gawk at a woman he couldn’t have. “I want to do this for her. For me. For both of us,” she added, punctuating the statement with a firm nod.

“Okay. Any other Ward Christmas traditions we need to add to the mix?”

“Well, there’s one thing. Ever since we were little girls, we’d wanted to ice skate at Rockefeller Center. We’d sidle up to the TV and watch them light the tree each year, dreaming we could be there in person. We even took a trip to New York City one December to do it.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but.’”

She nodded. “Yeah. It was one of those 24-hour bus tours, so time was limited. My ex-fiancé really wanted to go to this fancy restaurant. We just sort of ran out of time, is all. Court and I always said we’d go back and visit again, but—” She shrugged. Her shoulders said it didn’t matter, but her eyes told a different story.

“Then do it,” Kevin said with determination laced in his words.

Josie rubbed her chin. “Do what? Go back to New York?”

“Yeah. No. Maybe?” He was scrambling a tad, his imagination racing with ideas his mouth couldn’t keep up with. “What I’m saying is, have one more Christmas with your sister. Bake the cookies. See the lights. Drink the cocktail,” he said, pointing to the drink she’d only sipped once. “Do all the holiday things because that’s what she’d want you to do. All those old-fashioned traditions of yours?That’syour presentation. They’re what people coming here are craving. The chance to experience the holidays just like you did. The chance to feel like a kid again. Or maybe to feel like a kid at Christmas for the first time.” He cleared his throat, that last part hitting a little close to home. He shouldn’t have mentioned it. This was about Josie.

“I feel like such a grinch. I’ve spent years running from the Christmas you never got to have.”

“Then let’s do it, together. Notit. I mean—” His face burned hotter than the fireplace at the far corner of the restaurant.

“Kev,” she interrupted, a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “I knew what you meant.” She picked up her glass, tilting her head as she peered through the amber liquid. “An old-fashioned Christmas,” she whispered. “I’ve got these vouchers.” She laid them out across the table and started moving them around into groups. He watched the wheels turning in her head, a spark of creativity igniting a firestorm of ideas. “One of them is good for that trolley ride through the light displays and a hot chocolate bar at the lodge. We can skip a couple of these other things in favor of some classic holiday traditions for the sake of saving time.”

“No more quarter-naked holiday shenanigans?”

Laughter burst from both their mouths, catching the attention of more than a couple of patrons. “No more nudity. But if I’m involved, I can pretty much guarantee some shenanigans.”

* * *

Josie satat her favorite window seat at Mountain Brew, sipping a festive peppermint mocha while she listened to music that just a couple weeks ago, she wanted to unplug. Today, the tunes were a balm to her battered soul, a soft touch to an injured part that seemed like maybe it was healing. Slowly.

“Did I see Jojo kissing Santa Claus?” And just like that, Johnny ruined the moment with an off-key, modified version of a song that, even when Josie was Christmas’s biggest fan, always disgusted her.How horrifying for a child to think his mother was cheating on his father with Santa.But she needed to back up a second.

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