Page 28 of The Mistletoe Mystery

“Yes,” Juan replies. “I saw our Christmas future. And I’m so glad you see it now, too.”

—

When I was a child, my gran loved to entertain me with parables and fairy tales. She always put her own spin on them, embedding a moral or a warning of some kind.

Once, she told me the story of a maid who’d been wrongly accused of stealing a piece of silverware only for it to be discovered too late that a rat was the real culprit. She also told a tale about a poor young couple who were very much in love and wanted to exchange gifts at Christmas. The wife cut her hair to buy her husband a chain for his watch, and he sold his watch to buy her combs for her hair, rendering both gifts useless in the end, but it didn’t matter. As Gran always knew, love is the only gift that lasts.

It is Christmas morning. Juan Manuel is humming carols in the kitchen and preparing a sumptuous brunch with more food than we’ll ever be able to eat in one day. My gran-dad and Charlotte will arrive soon, wearing silly Christmas sweaters, laden with gifts and good cheer. We will eat and laugh and sing—all of us together, our special found family.

But before they arrive, I’ve slipped away for a quiet moment to myself. It’s strange for me to come here twice in one week, to the room that used to be Gran’s. I’m seated on her bed, holding a heart-shaped jewelry box in my hands. I look at the ring onmy finger. It’s a near-perfect match—my hands hold her heart, and her hands hold mine.

I open the box, and I swear on my life, I hear her voice, merry and bright, singing the last line of her favorite carol:

Have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

---